It really sucks that after a 13.2 year battle with Dagny's fur, I chose a week and a half ago to take her to the doggie wash and give her the total spa treatment. It was so great - a long bath in a comfortable tub, tons of rubbing and brushing and cooing by me, and she looked so fancy and the old fur was gone - gone from the floor, from the bed, from all over my clothes. I've had her fur floating around me for all these years and it's driven me crazy, and now, just when I need it, I can barely find one single strand of her fur in this house.
I hate this.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
A love letter to The Truest Love of All
Dear Dagny,
I'm not sure what good it does to write a letter to a dog, and to a dead dog at that, but here we are. Honestly, though, to me you were not just a dog, and you changed my life to such an extent that you can never be really dead to me, either.
You were my baby. You were my "truest love of all." You were the dog my boyfriend and I sang endless singsongs about, we changed the lyric to every song to include your name in it, and we changed our life around to fit you in it in every way possible, too.
When I brought my firstborn child home (and every child after that), I made absolutely positive to come into the house and find you first, to shower you with love and affection, and to insist that you would never ever lose your spot in my heart. You were utterly convinced - I know that! You protected those babies - during walks, on the stairs, you stared down any other dog, cat or human who dared come in the room and too near to "your" baby. The first time the doorbell rang when I was a sleepy new mother at home without her husband, I heard you bark in a way that I would never have imagined you could bark. I know you would have protected us with your life if given the chance.
You lived in a big family - a messy big family! - with three children, 2 cats, 2 rabbits, 2 guinea pigs, eventually 8 chickens, Bill, and me. Pets came and went - first a rabbit (replaced by a new rabbit), then the replacement rabbit, then the guinea pig, then our dear first rabbit, then our darling best cat (replaced by New Cat), and then a few chickens - and each time as the tears rolled down my face YOU were the only one standing or lying by me as I dug those graves, or cleaned up after them for the last time. With that solemn look you had, you too said goodbye to the cat that rubbed on you and that bunny that moved with us through each house we ever owned (5)! With that solemn look you greeted me when I found out I had breast cancer, when I lost my dad and our dear Sybil. When it was too much for your sensitive owner you laid with me as I sobbed and you rubbed your face against me.
I knew losing you would destroy me, and so I tried to plan ahead, and I made either the biggest mistake of my life or the best decision ever (for two years now I haven't been able to decide which it was). That is how we came to bring home Hope. At the time we thought "Hope" would stand for our decision to keep moving forward in the face of the loss in our family that cancer was promising...and now I know that "Hope" really stands for the hope that I will survive the loss of you. She absolutely adored you - you were her every-single-thing, her reason for getting up in the morning, the creature she loved more than anything in the world. And though she was totally annoying, I know that you loved her too, and that you loved having two years of being a dog when you felt like being a dog, and not just being another mother of the Luckens! I was a little bit right - to see your Luckens playing with her when they are miserable that their good dog is gone is nice. I was also so very wrong, though - because I can see in her that she, too, has lost her very very best companion, just as I have. She is my constant reminder that we can never be the same without you.
Thank you, my beautiful dog, for 13 years and 2 months of love and companionship. I have never ever known a creature to be more faithful to me in the face of all my weaknesses. Well, ok, your other owner is pretty good at that too - but he has a job and a life that takes him away from me and your job and your life was taking care of me. What a good job you did! When I wanted to die, the scruff of your neck and the velvety tips of your ears and your sweet nose brought me back countless times. It rips my actual heart out of my chest to think that I cannot feel that scruff and those soft ears ever again, that when I have tears they will not be wetting your coat.
Thank you for helping me to become a mother! Thank you for the dance parties - even when you had arthritis and were getting hard of hearing you would still dance with me every time. Thank you for all of our long, long, long walks...and thank you for the short, short walks when I was on chemo and could barely get around the corner. You ran with me, you walked with me, you waited for me, I waited for you, we slept together (for the last few years even in our own bed because you became such a bed hog and I could not kick you out or away from me!), we loved our family.
You gave me so much, sweet pup, but of all your gifts, the biggest one to me was your goodbye. Thank you so much for fighting so hard to come our of your last surgery, for greeting your whole family one last time with happiness, and for that last and very long rubbing of your face against my hands as I sat with you. I think we both knew our time together was coming to an end, but only now do I know how short that was and how hard you must have fought to get there to give me that goodbye. I hope I never forget our last night with me sleeping at your feet instead of you sleeping at mine - as horrible and hard as it was, I am so glad I had it.
It was an honor to be your family, Dagny (D, Dags Dogs, Dogger C, Doggercina, Especiale, DD, precious angel, truest love of all, best girl)...it was an honor to give my heart to you. Wait for me at our favorite path and someday I will be with you again and we'll walk endlessly through the beautiful woods of heaven.
I'm not sure what good it does to write a letter to a dog, and to a dead dog at that, but here we are. Honestly, though, to me you were not just a dog, and you changed my life to such an extent that you can never be really dead to me, either.
You were my baby. You were my "truest love of all." You were the dog my boyfriend and I sang endless singsongs about, we changed the lyric to every song to include your name in it, and we changed our life around to fit you in it in every way possible, too.
When I brought my firstborn child home (and every child after that), I made absolutely positive to come into the house and find you first, to shower you with love and affection, and to insist that you would never ever lose your spot in my heart. You were utterly convinced - I know that! You protected those babies - during walks, on the stairs, you stared down any other dog, cat or human who dared come in the room and too near to "your" baby. The first time the doorbell rang when I was a sleepy new mother at home without her husband, I heard you bark in a way that I would never have imagined you could bark. I know you would have protected us with your life if given the chance.
You lived in a big family - a messy big family! - with three children, 2 cats, 2 rabbits, 2 guinea pigs, eventually 8 chickens, Bill, and me. Pets came and went - first a rabbit (replaced by a new rabbit), then the replacement rabbit, then the guinea pig, then our dear first rabbit, then our darling best cat (replaced by New Cat), and then a few chickens - and each time as the tears rolled down my face YOU were the only one standing or lying by me as I dug those graves, or cleaned up after them for the last time. With that solemn look you had, you too said goodbye to the cat that rubbed on you and that bunny that moved with us through each house we ever owned (5)! With that solemn look you greeted me when I found out I had breast cancer, when I lost my dad and our dear Sybil. When it was too much for your sensitive owner you laid with me as I sobbed and you rubbed your face against me.
I knew losing you would destroy me, and so I tried to plan ahead, and I made either the biggest mistake of my life or the best decision ever (for two years now I haven't been able to decide which it was). That is how we came to bring home Hope. At the time we thought "Hope" would stand for our decision to keep moving forward in the face of the loss in our family that cancer was promising...and now I know that "Hope" really stands for the hope that I will survive the loss of you. She absolutely adored you - you were her every-single-thing, her reason for getting up in the morning, the creature she loved more than anything in the world. And though she was totally annoying, I know that you loved her too, and that you loved having two years of being a dog when you felt like being a dog, and not just being another mother of the Luckens! I was a little bit right - to see your Luckens playing with her when they are miserable that their good dog is gone is nice. I was also so very wrong, though - because I can see in her that she, too, has lost her very very best companion, just as I have. She is my constant reminder that we can never be the same without you.
Thank you, my beautiful dog, for 13 years and 2 months of love and companionship. I have never ever known a creature to be more faithful to me in the face of all my weaknesses. Well, ok, your other owner is pretty good at that too - but he has a job and a life that takes him away from me and your job and your life was taking care of me. What a good job you did! When I wanted to die, the scruff of your neck and the velvety tips of your ears and your sweet nose brought me back countless times. It rips my actual heart out of my chest to think that I cannot feel that scruff and those soft ears ever again, that when I have tears they will not be wetting your coat.
Thank you for helping me to become a mother! Thank you for the dance parties - even when you had arthritis and were getting hard of hearing you would still dance with me every time. Thank you for all of our long, long, long walks...and thank you for the short, short walks when I was on chemo and could barely get around the corner. You ran with me, you walked with me, you waited for me, I waited for you, we slept together (for the last few years even in our own bed because you became such a bed hog and I could not kick you out or away from me!), we loved our family.
You gave me so much, sweet pup, but of all your gifts, the biggest one to me was your goodbye. Thank you so much for fighting so hard to come our of your last surgery, for greeting your whole family one last time with happiness, and for that last and very long rubbing of your face against my hands as I sat with you. I think we both knew our time together was coming to an end, but only now do I know how short that was and how hard you must have fought to get there to give me that goodbye. I hope I never forget our last night with me sleeping at your feet instead of you sleeping at mine - as horrible and hard as it was, I am so glad I had it.
It was an honor to be your family, Dagny (D, Dags Dogs, Dogger C, Doggercina, Especiale, DD, precious angel, truest love of all, best girl)...it was an honor to give my heart to you. Wait for me at our favorite path and someday I will be with you again and we'll walk endlessly through the beautiful woods of heaven.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Apparently we need to make monkey bread. It looks yucky to this mom, but according to my expert, "We made it in my school and I tried it and it tastes DEElicious! It's gooder than fruit punch!"
Whoa, there, boy. Do you remember how much you love fruit punch? Many a shopping trip has ended up with a bribe/lunchtime stop at "Canera", only because you love the fruit punch.
Whoa, there, boy. Do you remember how much you love fruit punch? Many a shopping trip has ended up with a bribe/lunchtime stop at "Canera", only because you love the fruit punch.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
My thanksgiving list
I'm so thankful for my sisters, and sisters-in-law, and brothers-in-law, and their strong presence in my lives. I'm thankful for so many years with a good and supportive man that I am losing count of how many years we've actually been together (18 Thanksgivings). I'm thankful for my 3 little peanuts, who are growing into such wonderful people of their own. I love to be with them, they are teaching me so much, and they are huge sunshine-spreaders, both in our family and outside of it. I'm thankful for my extended family, which is a bunch of fun and loving people who bring many blessings to my life and to the lives of my husband and children. I'm thankful for my nieces and nephews, who are so adorable and a constant reminder of what life is all about - learning, growing, and sharing with the next generation!
I'm thankful for my home, for my pets, for my hobbies and the ability to pursue them. I'm thankful for friends - especially for those who have had the tenacity to keep up their friendships with me when I've not always been good at that! I'm thankful that I live in the United States, I'm thankful for my education...and I'm thankful for all of the possibilities that still lie ahead!
I'm thankful for my home, for my pets, for my hobbies and the ability to pursue them. I'm thankful for friends - especially for those who have had the tenacity to keep up their friendships with me when I've not always been good at that! I'm thankful that I live in the United States, I'm thankful for my education...and I'm thankful for all of the possibilities that still lie ahead!
Grief and the holidays
The loss of a loved one is generally a big, huge disaster, but never so much as during the holidays (and by that I mean any holiday - a birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the 1st Friday of the month, the 1st Wednesday of the month...). Having spent roughly 15 years working my tail off to try to pull some meaning out of the holidays when faced with the huge gaping hole left by my Mom's passing, you'd think I'd be patient with the misery that is so apparent in my family this year with my Mother-in-law's passing (and last year, with my Dad's passing). Sadly, patience is a virtue I'm still working to acquire...and also, it seems that my response to grief is to just work harder (hoping I'll work it all away). I'd do anything to spare my family (and myself) the feeling of that gaping hole. I can't bear the fact that my husband is losing himself in that hole this year.
SO. Thanksgiving. What a giant pain in the ass to overhear these conversations: "Do you have to cook this year? No, I don't, my mom always cooks" when there is not a bit of gratefulness in the tone of the asker OR the answerer, just the sense that they only want to get done with their obligation and move on. Worse is when I'm not just feeling the tone of the conversation, but when I'm actually overhearing people complaining about their family obligations. I wish I could record these people complaining about their parents and then I could magically appear at their homes in the weeks and months after their parents have passed away to replay these recordings. So MEAN OF ME, but it's painful to listen to such a huge lack of gratitude and to watch people sharing their negativity, like it's acceptable to share those bad feelings.
Why is it that people feel it is better to share their complaints than their joys? Could it be that our society is such a jealous and bitter one - that regular life is so fraught with misery that people feel it is more important to share their own misery than their own happiness? NO! It's NOT! But I'm caught in that same trap. I'm writing about my own jealousy and bitterness! I'm jealous and bitter that these people have families to treasure and they aren't treasuring them...but I know I was guilty of being the same way.
I think Thanksgiving is a holiday that we must celebrate. For at least one day a year, we should be thankful...and also happy to hear of the joys in other people's lives. What a great idea to share our happinesses and joys rather than our banal and rather ridiculous complaints!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING to all. I hope that you are enjoying the gift of your life, your family, the things that make you happy, the things you have learned and been given.
SO. Thanksgiving. What a giant pain in the ass to overhear these conversations: "Do you have to cook this year? No, I don't, my mom always cooks" when there is not a bit of gratefulness in the tone of the asker OR the answerer, just the sense that they only want to get done with their obligation and move on. Worse is when I'm not just feeling the tone of the conversation, but when I'm actually overhearing people complaining about their family obligations. I wish I could record these people complaining about their parents and then I could magically appear at their homes in the weeks and months after their parents have passed away to replay these recordings. So MEAN OF ME, but it's painful to listen to such a huge lack of gratitude and to watch people sharing their negativity, like it's acceptable to share those bad feelings.
Why is it that people feel it is better to share their complaints than their joys? Could it be that our society is such a jealous and bitter one - that regular life is so fraught with misery that people feel it is more important to share their own misery than their own happiness? NO! It's NOT! But I'm caught in that same trap. I'm writing about my own jealousy and bitterness! I'm jealous and bitter that these people have families to treasure and they aren't treasuring them...but I know I was guilty of being the same way.
I think Thanksgiving is a holiday that we must celebrate. For at least one day a year, we should be thankful...and also happy to hear of the joys in other people's lives. What a great idea to share our happinesses and joys rather than our banal and rather ridiculous complaints!
HAPPY THANKSGIVING to all. I hope that you are enjoying the gift of your life, your family, the things that make you happy, the things you have learned and been given.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Oh the holiday season!
I really should have thought about having a baby right smack in the middle of the holiday season when I got unexpectedly pregnant 11 years ago! I feel like I am thinking about/preparing for a very special girl's birthday and then WHOA! I forgot Christmas is only 20 days away! (And I do this every year...)
I'm hoping to turn over a new leaf this holiday season, and, as such, I have put in my calendar 2 recurring events: Holiday Hour and Crafting time! How I am going to be able to fit in that time when I have failed for about 20 years straight is beyond me...but maybe in planning for it I'll get more done than if I hadn't.
With Holiday Hour, I'm hoping to accomplish some things which I either never accomplish, or basically throw together willy-nilly at the last minute (thinking about good gifts for people, putting together Bill's annual photo calendar and photo book, etc.) The best part about that hour, in my opinion, is that it can take place anywhere - if I can't sit down with the photos and the computer, then I can plan and think while I'm sitting and waiting at a soccer practice, or even while walking on the treadmill. We'll see how it goes - I'm trying it out tonight at Emma's practice.
I'm hoping to make room for crafting with Crafting Time...scheduled from 9-10pm. That will mean I have to put down my paintbrush (I'm painting - or hoping to paint - the main level of my house and that can mean some late hours). I'll have to not wait until 9pm to exercise, which is a good idea anyway as I can't fall asleep if I exercise late. Mostly, I'll have to organize the kids for the next morning and get them to bed - a huge feat for the holiday week coming up but perhaps I can enlist my husband's help.
OOH...I can just picture it...my first holiday season ever when I am not constantly rushing, and then wishing I had done so much more when I'm left to clean up the detritus in early January!
I'm hoping to turn over a new leaf this holiday season, and, as such, I have put in my calendar 2 recurring events: Holiday Hour and Crafting time! How I am going to be able to fit in that time when I have failed for about 20 years straight is beyond me...but maybe in planning for it I'll get more done than if I hadn't.
With Holiday Hour, I'm hoping to accomplish some things which I either never accomplish, or basically throw together willy-nilly at the last minute (thinking about good gifts for people, putting together Bill's annual photo calendar and photo book, etc.) The best part about that hour, in my opinion, is that it can take place anywhere - if I can't sit down with the photos and the computer, then I can plan and think while I'm sitting and waiting at a soccer practice, or even while walking on the treadmill. We'll see how it goes - I'm trying it out tonight at Emma's practice.
I'm hoping to make room for crafting with Crafting Time...scheduled from 9-10pm. That will mean I have to put down my paintbrush (I'm painting - or hoping to paint - the main level of my house and that can mean some late hours). I'll have to not wait until 9pm to exercise, which is a good idea anyway as I can't fall asleep if I exercise late. Mostly, I'll have to organize the kids for the next morning and get them to bed - a huge feat for the holiday week coming up but perhaps I can enlist my husband's help.
OOH...I can just picture it...my first holiday season ever when I am not constantly rushing, and then wishing I had done so much more when I'm left to clean up the detritus in early January!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Worst soccer mom ever
I was never a soccer player. My soccer career ended practically right when it began, in 2nd grade when I cowered in fear while all the aggressive boys from good Italian families (we lived surrounded by Italians in Macomb County in those days) jockeyed for the ball and kicked at my skinny long shins.
I'm also the worst sports fan in the world. I have no attention span for sports and absolutely cannot handle the emotional tumult involved. They are winning! They are losing! What the hell is going on? I have enough emotional tumult going on in my head everyday...I can't possibly make room for the emotional tumult of a game played by people I don't know. As such, I have not developed a sports-watcher's eye or memory - how could I when I am blocking out all of the emotion? I NEVER see any of the smaller things that happen within a game, I can't recall what happened a minute ago, a season ago, 3 years ago, etc. I don't even WANT to.
Lastly, I am a spoiled rotten brat who craves her own exercise and her own life. I wish this wasn't true - but I still have a hard time shelling out all of this money and spending all of this time watching my kids do cool things while I sit around and get fatter and more out of shape! (Isn't that an almost unspeakably horrible thing for me to admit?) However, I do my very best to put my love for my children and my desire for them to lead wonderfully fulfilling lives first. I suck it up, and I drive and drive and drive and watch and watch and watch soccer, and swimming, and soon, basketball. And when it becomes too much for me to bear I chastise myself for not being one of those wonderful people who manage to fit in their dreams and their lives and their fitness in with those/that of their children...and I try a little bit better to manage my time and fit my dreams and life and fitness in.
And so tonight, I am finally adding my daughters' soccer games to my calendar, 2 weeks after their indoor seasons started...and I'm looking at who they will be playing, and checking out the records, etc....which wouldn't be a big horrible deal except that I am supposed to be the MANAGER of the team!!!!!! (Worst soccer mom ever.)
P.S. - Good thing I am married to the best soccer dad ever. But I feel so guilty. How can he be so good at all of these mom things, AND have to be the breadwinner of the family, too? The poor guy did NOT luck out when he got stuck with me.
I'm also the worst sports fan in the world. I have no attention span for sports and absolutely cannot handle the emotional tumult involved. They are winning! They are losing! What the hell is going on? I have enough emotional tumult going on in my head everyday...I can't possibly make room for the emotional tumult of a game played by people I don't know. As such, I have not developed a sports-watcher's eye or memory - how could I when I am blocking out all of the emotion? I NEVER see any of the smaller things that happen within a game, I can't recall what happened a minute ago, a season ago, 3 years ago, etc. I don't even WANT to.
Lastly, I am a spoiled rotten brat who craves her own exercise and her own life. I wish this wasn't true - but I still have a hard time shelling out all of this money and spending all of this time watching my kids do cool things while I sit around and get fatter and more out of shape! (Isn't that an almost unspeakably horrible thing for me to admit?) However, I do my very best to put my love for my children and my desire for them to lead wonderfully fulfilling lives first. I suck it up, and I drive and drive and drive and watch and watch and watch soccer, and swimming, and soon, basketball. And when it becomes too much for me to bear I chastise myself for not being one of those wonderful people who manage to fit in their dreams and their lives and their fitness in with those/that of their children...and I try a little bit better to manage my time and fit my dreams and life and fitness in.
And so tonight, I am finally adding my daughters' soccer games to my calendar, 2 weeks after their indoor seasons started...and I'm looking at who they will be playing, and checking out the records, etc....which wouldn't be a big horrible deal except that I am supposed to be the MANAGER of the team!!!!!! (Worst soccer mom ever.)
P.S. - Good thing I am married to the best soccer dad ever. But I feel so guilty. How can he be so good at all of these mom things, AND have to be the breadwinner of the family, too? The poor guy did NOT luck out when he got stuck with me.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Real Simple?
I'm a magazine deconstructionist. I probably have no right to say that, as Literary Theory was my absolute least-favorite class in my entire college career. I barely know what deconstructionism is to this day, despite getting an A- or so in that class. (I could teach a college course on how to write great papers with little time and without having read the book.) It seems like this is magazine deconstructionism though - I flip through magazines, ripping out all of the advertisements and the content that is either not pretty enough, not interesting enough, not well-written, or just plain distasteful to me on some level. I'm left with a magazine that I WOULD read, if I ever had (or made) enough time to actually sit down and enjoy it.
I do occasionally get back to those improved magazines - and I enjoy them - but I also do have a stack that I am waiting to read. I spend far more time deconstructing magazines than I actually do reading them.
Which brings me to the December 2010 issue of Real Simple. The thing is in absolute tatters. It was a HUGE issue - loaded with content initially...and now when I look at my copy, there is almost nothing left. I think the premise of the magazine is something that would normally really, really appeal to me - simplification of our lives, reviewing loads of new products and styles and foods and bringing us down to a basic few that are destined to be perennial favorites - things we will use and not need to purge from our lives in a few days, weeks or months. But WHOA was December's issue not like that.
100 Magical gifts under $50? What a load of absolute crap! I ran those pages out to the recycling almost as fast as I turned the page to them, they were so insulting to my minimalist tastes. Even the profiles were obnoxious - "the Man about Town"? Who has time for one of those? That is so not living a real simple lifestyle - to have one of those in your house! My Man about Town is lovingly watching my daughter negotiate her way around a rollerskating rink at a birthday party right now, and otherwise on the weekends, rushing off to our kids' sports games all weekend. He barely makes enough time to get dressed in the morning, much less to collect useless and pretentious knickknacks. I glanced at "Stocking Stuffers"...soap on a string for $40? Are you kidding me? Recycle this whole page. "Splurges" - a bedazzled bowl? About a thousand teeny crevices for food or dust to crawl into for the fantastic price of $150? Recycle this whole section. "Life Lessons" - entitled "Good Read" - a few pages wasted/written by a woman who loved her parents for allowing her to bring books to dinner so they could all ignore her disordered relationship with food. I'm sure they were fine parents, but if she is a gifted writer, do you think she could find a way to praise them without portraying them as people who were all too willing to ignore her (and her eating disorder) at meal time? And what is that essay doing in this magazine? Is it Real Simple to become accepting of our eating disorders?
But the worst, worst, WORST was the etiquette expert. First she "weighs in" about holiday photo cards being obsolete - isn't everything already posted on social media? I will be the first to admit that in my lonely moments (or bored moments - like all afternoon while I am waiting for people to get out of school and get to the car, or get out of practice, or waiting for a game to start) I like to read about my acquaintances' lives...and when I'm feeling lonely or proud I do like to post and hear from friends on facebook. Hey, with many things on the schedule it is hard to find a good sized-block of time which corresponds with my friends' open good-sized blocks of time, and status updates let me keep up with their lives and allow them to keep up with mine. However, I do not feel like living one's life on facebook is either appropriate or healthy...I'm hoping to reduce my bored and lonely time...not spend more time being that way! Further more, just because social media is easy doesn't mean it is an appropriate way to send a good amount of holiday cheer. I appreciate the time and effort it takes to include our family on the Christmas card lists...and I love receiving a little bit of that effort. This "etiquette expert" may be so very pretentiously busy that she can't get her cards out until late January...but when I receive a card I am always appreciative of the effort that was put forth to send it (and to send it on time)!
That's not the part that made me want to toss the whole magazine, though. Further on in this "etiquette expert's" column she chooses to answer a whiny question from someone who wants to try to find a way to make her mother stop filling her Christmas stocking with useless junk that the stocking recipient then summarily gives to goodwill or throws in the trash (sounds like this issue of Real Simple made that stocking...). Out of all of the questions sent in, this unappreciative daughter's was the best? If a woman can't figure out that 1) She is lucky to have a mother at all and 2) She is lucky to have a mother who loves her enough to put forth effort for her Christmas stocking then she is a lower creature than the chickens that live in my coop.
Real Simple? Life made easier? Here's my advice to both the writers and the readers of that magazine: recycle. All of it. Not just in general, but specifically. Recycle this magazine, both in small ways (this issue) and larger. Go back to what the magazine is supposed to be about, to the people you were originally trying to reach. Life is not complicated. People only complicate it when they aren't dealing with something more life-and-death. I know I don't equate a " real simple" lifestyle as being one that involves glittery, fake trends, and shallow, self-involved individuals.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Young boy's favorite things...or, I think the home renovation was a success
I'm downloading pictures from my camera, including some pictures I forgot I had - a veritable load of pictures I let the Bear take of his favorite things. Here is what I found:
If our home renovation was included in a gallery of shots with his birthday celebration and dogs...I think I'm not the only one liking it. (Oh, but he doesn't like the new wood floor...it makes mom very happy even if it isn't cozy enough for him. I can't understand how 30 year old rancid carpet is cozier, but oh well. I can't win everything.)
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| I'm guessing he loves the new stove |
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| As well as the new dishwasher |
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| And the new faucet, which he can pull down |
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| The new cabinets and countertop are a big hit |
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| Half of a dog face |
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| close up of some adorable old eyes |
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| He appreciated his birthday cake |
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| And the fact that his artwork was displayed on our mudroom refrigerator |
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| Loves a castle handed down to us from my aunt/cousin |
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| And a birthday present he was going to open later that evening. |
Have you been wondering about my chickens?
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| Chicken run...ready for the fall (chickens featured: Princess Snow White and Annabelle) |
I still adore my birds. I'm crossing my fingers as I type this, but I've had some nice, relaxing months with my 5 remaining chickens...and though we had thought 6 birds would be the perfect number (and so started with 8 chicks, for any possible attrition)...5 is also wonderful. It's a more manageable number, certainly.
Nice husband built a great outdoor pen for the chickens in later September, which we all really love. It's great to have an outdoor spot for them to roam when I don't feel like watching them carefully and guarding against any marauding predators (though Hope takes care of that quite handily). Alan Trammell is a huge wanderer, too...so even if I'm around the back yard I often lock them up just so that I don't have to go tromping through the woods to see where she has gone.
The pen is is situated on the west side of their coop, enclosed in chicken wire (top too), and it gives them space to walk under their coop as well. Their coop is on the south wall of our garage, under some pine trees, so it is pretty protected from the elements. You can see from the picture that needles from the pine tree have fallen on top of the chicken wire covering the top of the pen - so great as it's becoming like a little natural roof. Between the location next to the garage, the pine trees overhead, and the natural roof, they can be in their outdoor pen even when it is raining and they don't get wet!
This fall I loaded a whole bunch of fallen chopped leaves into their pen and under their coop, in hopes of insulating it for the cold days of winter. They ADORE the giant leaf pile and love scratching around and fluffing it up. Occasionally if they have been out for awhile I might find a chicken all cozied up in a little nest she's tossed up for herself. It's totally cute how curious the chickens are...and how just a little something new in their pen, or in their coop, has them cocking their heads and pushing each other out of the way to explore.
We're getting nearly an egg per chicken per day...possibly 5 eggs a day (sometimes they bury them and I don't always find them until a day or two later so it's hard to keep perfect track). They generally have their own location for laying their eggs...and I even saw Princess Snow White lay an egg once (she lays them out in the open...the others like to go in the laying boxes Bill made for them). I love having fresh eggs from my happy, happy, healthy chickens...it feels good to know the animals that are producing some part of my diet are so well cared for.
Even more than that, though...I just love the chickens. LONG after their laying days are over, I'm sure I'll still love them, thank them for their compost-making abilities (chicken poop makes compost so much quicker than any other ingredient I've ever tried), and enjoy watching them be their cute little selves.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Quote of the day!
Some people follow their dreams...Others hunt them down and beat them mercilessly into submission.
-Neil Kendall
-Neil Kendall
I signed up to receive daily inspirational quotes from Runner's World, even though I am by no means a runner yet (or again). They must occasionally hit the mark as I have so little patience for daily subscription (or even weekly, or monthly) emails that I usually delete them after about 3 days.
I love this one because it reminds me of my family - my Dad and especially his brother, my Uncle Bob (and the language sounds like my cousin). I am by no means a merciless hunter of my dreams - yet - but I would like to be. I love the imagery - the patience, the persistence, the strength of the hunter. I could use a little of all three!
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Who's recovering here?
My little bear had a successful adenoidectomy and myringotomy with insertion of ventilation tubes in the ears yesterday - I just love all those medical terms! Anyway, after a very sore throat from the intubation tube yesterday/last night, the bear is recovering quite nicely. He already can smell and hear better than he has in a long time - the adenoids were enlarged and blocking about 80% of his nasal passageways, and he had thick fluid in both ears which could not drain because of the blockage. It seems to me like he is practically recovered today...but wait! I planned for these two quiet and cozy days and I'm not ready for them to be done yet!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Loving the time change!
How awesome is "falling back"? I've loved it for years, as it inevitably means either an extra hour of sleep OR the chance to stay up late and get more done (this year it meant both). This year has been the best "falling back" ever, though!
We've had a pretty crazy few weeks - busier than I can remember ever being, probably. First, we replaced our 30 year-old carpet on our entire upper level. Trying to move out of 3 kids' bedrooms was a disaster! I also took time that week to repaint those hastily-painted rooms. Note to self: painting after dark, when you are afraid you will never be the same again after a breast cancer diagnosis, does not lead to a really great paint job!
Next, Halloween put me through the ringer! Family visits (love the Kays!), family fun (Crossroads Village and Huckleberry Railroad was so great, as was Halloween in GP Park and the Halloween Hoot), and three class parties on the same day (not just showing up for those, either- lots and lots of activities to bring to each) made that week fly by.
Last, 5th grade camp! - 3 days of fun with 200 5th and 6tth graders and their chaperones (though I was only responsible for about 20-40 really pretty well-behaved children)...3 days away makes a week fly by. On top of all of this, we've had 3 sports converging over these past few weeks - outdoor soccer ended in a flurry while indoor soccer was beginning for both girls, and E began basketball as well. So we've had three busy weeks plus at least one and as many as 3 sport-activities in a day during those weeks!
Needless to say, I've been flying. It's fall cleanup time! The temps have been dipping...the chickens' coop needed to be made ready for winter! Last, I can't handle a giant mess, or no exercise, so to fit everything in I've had to sprout wings. I'm used to moving pretty quickly these days.
Imagine how awesome it is for someone who has become used to squeezing things in with minutes to spare, to look at the clock, figure out how to fit everything in, and THEN realize that clock hasn't been changed and I HAVE AN EXTRA HOUR!!!!!!!!!!! Or, and this has probably been happening more - I'm looking at the light outside and realizing I have to do something (the sun is almost up! Emma should be on the bus! It's been dark for awhile, time to get in bed!), and then looking at a properly-set clock and realizing I have more time. It's been happening for 2 days straight now! (SIGH of contentment to have that extra time...SIGH of realization that I'm going to have to change all those clocks soon AND I'm going to get used to the new light outside so these little time-mind-games are almost over.)
We've had a pretty crazy few weeks - busier than I can remember ever being, probably. First, we replaced our 30 year-old carpet on our entire upper level. Trying to move out of 3 kids' bedrooms was a disaster! I also took time that week to repaint those hastily-painted rooms. Note to self: painting after dark, when you are afraid you will never be the same again after a breast cancer diagnosis, does not lead to a really great paint job!
Next, Halloween put me through the ringer! Family visits (love the Kays!), family fun (Crossroads Village and Huckleberry Railroad was so great, as was Halloween in GP Park and the Halloween Hoot), and three class parties on the same day (not just showing up for those, either- lots and lots of activities to bring to each) made that week fly by.
Last, 5th grade camp! - 3 days of fun with 200 5th and 6tth graders and their chaperones (though I was only responsible for about 20-40 really pretty well-behaved children)...3 days away makes a week fly by. On top of all of this, we've had 3 sports converging over these past few weeks - outdoor soccer ended in a flurry while indoor soccer was beginning for both girls, and E began basketball as well. So we've had three busy weeks plus at least one and as many as 3 sport-activities in a day during those weeks!
Needless to say, I've been flying. It's fall cleanup time! The temps have been dipping...the chickens' coop needed to be made ready for winter! Last, I can't handle a giant mess, or no exercise, so to fit everything in I've had to sprout wings. I'm used to moving pretty quickly these days.
Imagine how awesome it is for someone who has become used to squeezing things in with minutes to spare, to look at the clock, figure out how to fit everything in, and THEN realize that clock hasn't been changed and I HAVE AN EXTRA HOUR!!!!!!!!!!! Or, and this has probably been happening more - I'm looking at the light outside and realizing I have to do something (the sun is almost up! Emma should be on the bus! It's been dark for awhile, time to get in bed!), and then looking at a properly-set clock and realizing I have more time. It's been happening for 2 days straight now! (SIGH of contentment to have that extra time...SIGH of realization that I'm going to have to change all those clocks soon AND I'm going to get used to the new light outside so these little time-mind-games are almost over.)
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
My latest dream...
I want to be a part of creating a community garden...I'm reading more about them here, and starting small with garden clubs at both E's school (starts Thursday!) and K's school (plans in the works). Who knows what I can grow these projects into? :)
It has become apparent that I am not always the parent in this relationship...
Me, yesterday in the yard, muttering and complaining: "I am so sick of having dogs! They bark all the time, they poop all the time....Do you hear me, you stupid dog? I am sick of you! Stop barking! I don't know why I ever got these dogs in the first place. I should get rid of them. These dogs are such a PAIN IN MY REAR!!!!!!
Nathan, my old-soul-5-year old, sighs and says in a kind, patient, and soothing voice, like he's the parent and I am the whining child: "I know...."
Nathan, my old-soul-5-year old, sighs and says in a kind, patient, and soothing voice, like he's the parent and I am the whining child: "I know...."
Sunday, October 24, 2010
The joys and pains of social networking
I have REALLY REALLY enjoyed facebook. It couldn't have come into my life at a better time. It was 2008 - cancer year - and what a great way to spend some nauseous moments! Cozied up in bed in my quiet room, I passed at least a few really yucky Saturdays reading about old friends and learning more about new friends - a pleasant pastime in rather unpleasant circumstances. I have loved connecting and reconnecting with people on facebook, loved sharing moments back and forth.
Beyond socially networking on facebook, I have also loved the games! I'm embarrassed to think of the hours of free time I have logged playing these mindless games...but honestly, I needed them. For A LOT of the past 3 years, I've needed to turn off my mind - to not think of my own cancer returning, to not think about the major catastrophic losses that were about to happen to me, or that now have happened to me. Never underestimate the power of these games in grief recovery! I can log on, play some games, turn my mind off...and when I return to my thoughts (months later!), they aren't nearly as painful as they once were. Oh the power of time.
However, time has another power - the power of slipping away! I think I'm starting to be able to use my time constructively again - I'm fitting in exercise, I'm fitting in all of these crazy home renovation projects, I'm able to plan for the future and ENGAGE more in my own life - but now I'm starting to need that time back that I spend on fb! I kind of miss watching movies and reading books...and blessedly, I (mostly) feel like a normal person again (what a blessing) and thus, watching movies or reading books doesn't just make me feel like an outcast more. (It was not easy for me to watch the beautiful people or to read about exciting things when I was young, bald, deformed, and staring into the face of my BRCA status, and the fact that both of my parents were either dead or going to be dead before they reached significant old age.)
So I'm coming to a breakup I fear is not going to be easy for me...I'm going to have to significantly curtail my facebook usage, and soon. No mom of 3 active children, who wants to be seriously involved in their lives, who also has 5 chickens and 5 other pets to care for, and a house to finish remodeling, and a career to consider beginning, who has an active passion for lots and lots of lots of gardening, who is also trying to get back into shape, and who also wants to follow a few other hobbies HAS ANY TIME TO BE FRITTERING AWAY ON FACEBOOK!
So, thank you, silly little social networking site, for being such a great "time suck" when I really really needed it, and when other "time sucks" were too painful for me. I think it is time to start living my life a little more (and possibly, reading about other people's lives a little bit less...and sadly, playing games a little less, too!)
Beyond socially networking on facebook, I have also loved the games! I'm embarrassed to think of the hours of free time I have logged playing these mindless games...but honestly, I needed them. For A LOT of the past 3 years, I've needed to turn off my mind - to not think of my own cancer returning, to not think about the major catastrophic losses that were about to happen to me, or that now have happened to me. Never underestimate the power of these games in grief recovery! I can log on, play some games, turn my mind off...and when I return to my thoughts (months later!), they aren't nearly as painful as they once were. Oh the power of time.
However, time has another power - the power of slipping away! I think I'm starting to be able to use my time constructively again - I'm fitting in exercise, I'm fitting in all of these crazy home renovation projects, I'm able to plan for the future and ENGAGE more in my own life - but now I'm starting to need that time back that I spend on fb! I kind of miss watching movies and reading books...and blessedly, I (mostly) feel like a normal person again (what a blessing) and thus, watching movies or reading books doesn't just make me feel like an outcast more. (It was not easy for me to watch the beautiful people or to read about exciting things when I was young, bald, deformed, and staring into the face of my BRCA status, and the fact that both of my parents were either dead or going to be dead before they reached significant old age.)
So I'm coming to a breakup I fear is not going to be easy for me...I'm going to have to significantly curtail my facebook usage, and soon. No mom of 3 active children, who wants to be seriously involved in their lives, who also has 5 chickens and 5 other pets to care for, and a house to finish remodeling, and a career to consider beginning, who has an active passion for lots and lots of lots of gardening, who is also trying to get back into shape, and who also wants to follow a few other hobbies HAS ANY TIME TO BE FRITTERING AWAY ON FACEBOOK!
So, thank you, silly little social networking site, for being such a great "time suck" when I really really needed it, and when other "time sucks" were too painful for me. I think it is time to start living my life a little more (and possibly, reading about other people's lives a little bit less...and sadly, playing games a little less, too!)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
And she failed again!
- Didn't exercise during my free time yesterday! I took care of my chickens, and just as I was about to hop on the treadmill Grandpa Bill came over. WELL...although I have been known to hide when people come to the door at bad times (!!!!!!!!!!!!), I don't hide from Grandpa Bill (he's really Bill's dad, but it feels weird to call him Bill, or Dad, and luckily I have 3 reasons why I can call him Grandpa Bill so that has solved my problem.). He's always thought my kids were amazing-smart-wonderful-beyond-all-belief, so it makes it very easy to love him! I'm not good at stopping to visit or doing much with him except being as thoughful as I can possibly be when he stops over, so alas...no exercise.
- Lost Rosie after all. I have been spending all this time watching over the chickens because I was sure she was the next to go...and I was right. I think I could be the worst excuse for a chicken hobbyist ever...who loses 3 out of 8 birds?
>>>>>>>>>>>>Rambling about Chickens>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
- When Superman seemed ill - cold feet, seemed like she lost tons of weight in a weekend, was uninterested in things, listless - I spent hours looking on the internet, reading, trying things to help her (if she was eggbound, to warm her up, etc)...and then hours on the phone with the farm trying to figure out what might have happened. Didn't help - could be genetics, could have been eggbound, who knows. I felt guilty and wondered if I should have taken her to the farm sooner, given he, left her alone...
- When PuffPuff was ill - diarrhea, seemed like she lost weight too, not laying, was out of it and miserable - I called the farm and took her right there, got her antibiotics, got her electrolytes, helped her drink it all, put her in the coop with her sisters (but separated because I didn't know if they would attack her because she was failing). She died anyway.
- Rosie has always looked little, skinny, and runt-like since the girls got their big girl feathers. I've been worried about her from the start...but for the past couple of days she has looked unhappy and less interested in being a chicken (only stopped laying maybe 2 days before death though). Yesterday she was cold and had a droopy sad look (no diarrhea though). I decided to try tactic number 3 - be nice but don't try anything extraneous. So we had a good day (except that I didn't exercise and so was a maniac this morning) - I took her around with me as I did garden work, spent time petting her, talked to her (and she clucked gently back - so cute). This morning - dead chicken #3.
Better luck next time? Or should I just let all these birds die and then get out of the chicken business? (It's still a better business to be in than the rabbit business, though. First, they obviously don't all live as long. Second, they give us eggs. Third, they are always so spunky and happy - until they are dying... wahhh)
Saturday, September 18, 2010
My sordid relationship with exercise
I have such a dirty, sordid relationship with exercise. I need it, I want it, I can't have it, it's keeping me from developing other relationships, I hate it, I'm afraid to come crawling back again. It's such an old relationship, too - it remembers me from when I was first trying to become an exerciser long, long ago, to when I was actually pretty good at it, through all the ups and downs of pregnancies, childbirths, raising small children, developing and treating breast cancer, losing one parent, then the 2nd, and then the 3rd (m-i-l). Admittedly, it's been mostly remembering me, and I've been remembering it, lately!
Well, finally, my last child has started school in the mornings on Monday-Friday. Even if he misses for an occasional cold, I should be able to still be mostly on a schedule and stick to it. I need to not sign up for anything except for exercise during that time period (M-F from 9:20am - 11:20am when I have to get in the shower to be clean for pick-up), and then I actually have to DO IT. That's the trick - this week my boy went M-Th (cold he can't shake so kept him home yesterday) and I was only a successful exerciser on Monday. I spent the other days cleaning up after chickens/pets/gardening, cleaning up from the renovation, blogging or doing email or organizing the schedule (and one awesome and really-worth-it day with a dear friend who gave me a million ideas and inspiration for the house and for life). They were all great things to do - things that needed to be done - but the thing is, there is ALWAYS something that needs to be done. If I want to turn my dirty sordid relationship with exercise into an actual relationship that is working for me, I need to make the time, and now I have the time to make, M-F.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>All of my whining to myself>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
If I had any willpower or devotion to this dirty sordid relationship it would not have taken me 11 YEARS to give myself that 2 hours/day regularly! I would have gotten up early without fail (instead of about 7 times in 11 years), I would have stayed up late regularly, I would have forced any one of my 3 children to go to the gym when they were having a fit about not going. I wouldn't have let myself fall off these schedules and plans so easily. I do have an obvious guilt problem, though - and it's hard for me to not get stressed when something unusual comes up (all the time with kids, illnesses, deaths, moves, renovations, etc) and then I get worked up, and the depression comes in, and that whole cycle begins and I begin reacting instead of acting.
>>>>>>>>>>>>All of my niceness to myself>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I've done a pretty good job, considering all of these other things. Yes, a better person could have done better...but I have three healthy children who are confident, and smart, and HAPPY, and doing very well despite all of our difficulties and more than any of that, DESPITE having a mom who suffers from depression. That I have (mostly) spared them from my crazy is by far my biggest accomplishment! and if I had to get fat to do it, or be scatterbrained to do it, or be spontaneous in my cure-the-depression tricks to do it, it was all worth it when I get reports that my children are doing well, are coping well, are being good role models, are spreading their sunshine to others.
And now I have Monday - Friday, 9:20 - 11:20am, to get myself back on track with exercise and quiet time, to do some good things to actively treat the depression instead of reacting to it. My dirty, sordid relationship will have a little regular time and attention and should be able to become a tool I can use to build a more complete (more neurologically-sound!) me.
Well, finally, my last child has started school in the mornings on Monday-Friday. Even if he misses for an occasional cold, I should be able to still be mostly on a schedule and stick to it. I need to not sign up for anything except for exercise during that time period (M-F from 9:20am - 11:20am when I have to get in the shower to be clean for pick-up), and then I actually have to DO IT. That's the trick - this week my boy went M-Th (cold he can't shake so kept him home yesterday) and I was only a successful exerciser on Monday. I spent the other days cleaning up after chickens/pets/gardening, cleaning up from the renovation, blogging or doing email or organizing the schedule (and one awesome and really-worth-it day with a dear friend who gave me a million ideas and inspiration for the house and for life). They were all great things to do - things that needed to be done - but the thing is, there is ALWAYS something that needs to be done. If I want to turn my dirty sordid relationship with exercise into an actual relationship that is working for me, I need to make the time, and now I have the time to make, M-F.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>All of my whining to myself>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
If I had any willpower or devotion to this dirty sordid relationship it would not have taken me 11 YEARS to give myself that 2 hours/day regularly! I would have gotten up early without fail (instead of about 7 times in 11 years), I would have stayed up late regularly, I would have forced any one of my 3 children to go to the gym when they were having a fit about not going. I wouldn't have let myself fall off these schedules and plans so easily. I do have an obvious guilt problem, though - and it's hard for me to not get stressed when something unusual comes up (all the time with kids, illnesses, deaths, moves, renovations, etc) and then I get worked up, and the depression comes in, and that whole cycle begins and I begin reacting instead of acting.
>>>>>>>>>>>>All of my niceness to myself>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I've done a pretty good job, considering all of these other things. Yes, a better person could have done better...but I have three healthy children who are confident, and smart, and HAPPY, and doing very well despite all of our difficulties and more than any of that, DESPITE having a mom who suffers from depression. That I have (mostly) spared them from my crazy is by far my biggest accomplishment! and if I had to get fat to do it, or be scatterbrained to do it, or be spontaneous in my cure-the-depression tricks to do it, it was all worth it when I get reports that my children are doing well, are coping well, are being good role models, are spreading their sunshine to others.
And now I have Monday - Friday, 9:20 - 11:20am, to get myself back on track with exercise and quiet time, to do some good things to actively treat the depression instead of reacting to it. My dirty, sordid relationship will have a little regular time and attention and should be able to become a tool I can use to build a more complete (more neurologically-sound!) me.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Moving houses for the 6th time...
At the end of June, we hurriedly started a renovation of the whole first floor of our home. My mother-in-law was the brains behind this operation, and when it became clear to me that 1) she really meant it, she really wanted to see this happen and 2) she didn't think she had much time left, I begged the contractor she found to come and start this crazy project early. He is a most wonderful man, and so he did...but unfortunately, my dear mother-in-law passed away as the walls were being torn down and built up again in my house. Our last picture of her shows her smiling as she watches Bill hang our kitchen's late 70's oak cabinets in our garage....but she never got to see any of the finished product (makes me miserable to think about).
So...we've had a summer of a mess. New hardwood floors, new stairs and railings, new cabinets, appliances, etc. Although we aren't blessed in all ways (who is), we have been blessed to have friends who have given us good advice, to have had my mother-in-law's guidance throughout the entire planning process, and to have found good, honest workers and so the disastrous remodeling process has not been magnificently easy but it's not been horribly hard, either.
Finally our appliances are in, our granite fiasco is cleared up, we have a sink in our kitchen, and I can move us back in. It feels like I am moving into an entirely new house (though the footprint of the kitchen is the same, the cabinets are taller and there are fewer of them, the arrangement of the whole main level is different, etc.)...and I'm feeling the disadvantages of all the moves we've made in the 11 years of our marriage (5 houses, and now this is the 6th/sort of). I'm going through piles from this move, but also piles from other renovations/moves, finally (because we are really moving in this time...this stuff is here for keeps)...and it's kind of sad to see all of the little items that got lost along the way popping back up. The kids have grown up so much! We've been so busy and it's all flying by...and from what I hear, it's going to get even faster.
It feels really really sad to be settling into this house, physically and emotionally, with all of the things we've picked out, etc. without my mother-in-law. How many phone calls would I have made to her, how many impromptu visits would she have made (or photos would I have sent to her if she wasn't able to travel over) to see the improvements, would she be proud and happy and comfortable here? But tonight, at the same time, when I pick through our misplaced piles of paper and find Emma's 1st grade dictionary and Katie's scrolling papers, and way back to before breast cancer, before we even had Nathan, and mostly, to way back when I felt my luck was going to change soon, before I had so much experience with the fragility of life and the pain of loss, I realize how fast it is all going. It is really really time to settle in, to make this house cozy and organized and home-like, before my kids are all grown up and gone (even if I don't feel like it, even if it hurts to be doing it without the mastermind).
So...we've had a summer of a mess. New hardwood floors, new stairs and railings, new cabinets, appliances, etc. Although we aren't blessed in all ways (who is), we have been blessed to have friends who have given us good advice, to have had my mother-in-law's guidance throughout the entire planning process, and to have found good, honest workers and so the disastrous remodeling process has not been magnificently easy but it's not been horribly hard, either.
Finally our appliances are in, our granite fiasco is cleared up, we have a sink in our kitchen, and I can move us back in. It feels like I am moving into an entirely new house (though the footprint of the kitchen is the same, the cabinets are taller and there are fewer of them, the arrangement of the whole main level is different, etc.)...and I'm feeling the disadvantages of all the moves we've made in the 11 years of our marriage (5 houses, and now this is the 6th/sort of). I'm going through piles from this move, but also piles from other renovations/moves, finally (because we are really moving in this time...this stuff is here for keeps)...and it's kind of sad to see all of the little items that got lost along the way popping back up. The kids have grown up so much! We've been so busy and it's all flying by...and from what I hear, it's going to get even faster.
It feels really really sad to be settling into this house, physically and emotionally, with all of the things we've picked out, etc. without my mother-in-law. How many phone calls would I have made to her, how many impromptu visits would she have made (or photos would I have sent to her if she wasn't able to travel over) to see the improvements, would she be proud and happy and comfortable here? But tonight, at the same time, when I pick through our misplaced piles of paper and find Emma's 1st grade dictionary and Katie's scrolling papers, and way back to before breast cancer, before we even had Nathan, and mostly, to way back when I felt my luck was going to change soon, before I had so much experience with the fragility of life and the pain of loss, I realize how fast it is all going. It is really really time to settle in, to make this house cozy and organized and home-like, before my kids are all grown up and gone (even if I don't feel like it, even if it hurts to be doing it without the mastermind).
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
And just a note about my blog's picture
It is awesome. I just love those chickens, all eager and bursting around the yard.
I wish I could tell who they are...I think it is Margaret to the left, but I'd expect her to be the bursting one to the right. Leads me to believe that it is Annie Lennox to the right, who is spunky as well...though it could be Alan Trammell, who is dark in color (like this chicken) and also a bit determined. I do think the chicken in the middle is our dear, departed Puff Puff (named by Katie), who I feel is looking into the camera knowingly..."my time to leave you is nearing, and thus I have this wise look in my eyes."
I wish I could tell who they are...I think it is Margaret to the left, but I'd expect her to be the bursting one to the right. Leads me to believe that it is Annie Lennox to the right, who is spunky as well...though it could be Alan Trammell, who is dark in color (like this chicken) and also a bit determined. I do think the chicken in the middle is our dear, departed Puff Puff (named by Katie), who I feel is looking into the camera knowingly..."my time to leave you is nearing, and thus I have this wise look in my eyes."
Curriculum night...or, what my child's teacher is teaching me
Admittedly, I'm not all so thrilled about loads and loads and loads of technology in the classroom. Birmingham Public Schools IS, though, so I am constantly being barraged by educators telling me that "We are not from the digital age, we can only hope to learn this [digital] language which our children already speak" blah blah blah blah blah.
What a load of rubbish. I firmly believe that we can all learn whatever we set our minds to learn, make time to learn, and are eager to learn. Yes, it is always easier to have a routine, to use the routine, and to work with what is comfortable and fast (that is why I balk every time my husband buys some new sort of equipment...I'm used to moving at a certain speed and doing things a certain way and it annoys me to have to slow down and learn something new, even if it is better)...but the old way never sticks around for very long so yes, we have to take time to learn new things.
(And so - Yes, it's a pain to set up a new blog...to get used to all of the new capabilities that blogger has now that it didn't have a few years ago...when I just feel like writing...but that is all part of the learning process too. )
Anyway, back to curriculum night. After being bullied for about 1/2 hour about how we were so far behind our children and we have to get with the program (by a woman who has only been teaching for 8 years...8 years that I have spent on the computer fooling around and learning whatever I felt like while my young children were growing up - learning html, learning how to blog, to use whatever I felt like using, learning how to figure out whatever I want to know, etc), I did catch on to a few bits that struck me, turned me around, and made me realize I'm going to like this teacher, after all.
Here they are...I think they are worth sharing!
What a load of rubbish. I firmly believe that we can all learn whatever we set our minds to learn, make time to learn, and are eager to learn. Yes, it is always easier to have a routine, to use the routine, and to work with what is comfortable and fast (that is why I balk every time my husband buys some new sort of equipment...I'm used to moving at a certain speed and doing things a certain way and it annoys me to have to slow down and learn something new, even if it is better)...but the old way never sticks around for very long so yes, we have to take time to learn new things.
(And so - Yes, it's a pain to set up a new blog...to get used to all of the new capabilities that blogger has now that it didn't have a few years ago...when I just feel like writing...but that is all part of the learning process too. )
Anyway, back to curriculum night. After being bullied for about 1/2 hour about how we were so far behind our children and we have to get with the program (by a woman who has only been teaching for 8 years...8 years that I have spent on the computer fooling around and learning whatever I felt like while my young children were growing up - learning html, learning how to blog, to use whatever I felt like using, learning how to figure out whatever I want to know, etc), I did catch on to a few bits that struck me, turned me around, and made me realize I'm going to like this teacher, after all.
Here they are...I think they are worth sharing!
- The WHY for all this moodle, wikis, etc. - all technologies which I think are cool and fun but do not blow me away and make my knees quiver with excitement, "oh they are so cool and the wave of the future", (because they're going to be totally old-school by the time Emma is done with high school, I'm sure...things just move that fast): it's all about learning, sharing, and creating information. Everyone has something to share, from the youngest on up...and some things the youngest can teach us (ways of thinking, etc.) are totally great and awesome. ***I love this because it makes me realize that everyone has something totally different to share - from my kids (which I knew), to their teachers (which I also knew), to me (which I didn't know...so weird, yes).
- My child's teacher is adamant that my daughter needs to learn how to fail, needs to cry (not a problem), needs to be disappointed (not a problem, either...our whole family is pretty used to disappointment and such lately), needs to do it all herself and fall on her face, etc. I'm not excited about this idea... but I can kind of see her point. I was pretty darned perfect in school and a few rejections I did had came so late that I could barely handle them at all. However, this idea is going to take some marinating. I came from the land of "do it all yourself, be responsible for your own self" and it's kind of a lonely place...PLUS if you are supremely responsible, then you still never get those failures that are supposed to shape you and make you so resilient and awesome and ready to take on the world. So we'll see.
- A quote that I hope to always remember..."I've got my cape, I'm wearing my Superwoman outfit. I can handle it." How awesome to feel like you really DO want to get to work and handle every single weird thing that is thrown your way by the 3rd graders entrusted in your care....that phrase basically put me squarely in her fan club, despite the 1/2 hour browbeating I took earlier (with all of the other parents...but hey, I bounced back from it AND joined the fan club! I guess I picked up some resilience after all, somewhere along the way after my academic career. It's never too late to stop learning!)
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Takes my breath away...and not in a happy way
Sometimes the grief of having lost a loved one blankets everything in grey - takes the colors out of everything, takes the importance away from everything, sets it all past an arm's reach. You just don't see anymore, and if you did see things, you don't really give a crap about it.
If the blanket lifts - and it does, inexplicably - it feels good to see those colors, to run around like all the regular people in the world who aren't suffering or certainly aren't showing it if they are. "Wow! Can't believe I can actually be happy or care about that!" You'd think one would welcome the lifting of the blanket.
Nope. Not really...and not just because you feel your responsibilities and those aren't always fun picnics with free cotton candy and lots of pretty gardens to skip through every day.
No, I hate the lifting of the blanket because of the sucker punch that comes when I'm least expecting it. WHAM! Remember that? Remember how much it sucks that you loved that person and THEY ARE NEVER COMING BACK? Or worse, Remember how much your children loved that person and THEY ARE NEVER COMING BACK. Or possibly even worse, Remember how much your husband loved that person and SHE IS NEVER COMING BACK AND YOUR HUSBAND MIGHT NOT COME BACK FOR A LONG TIME, EITHER.
Tonight I was cleaning up yet another mess my darling, dearest, beloved and special eldest daughter had created recently (she's a mess maker, that one), and I stumbled upon a whole entire cache of Get Well! cards, I LOVE YOU! cards, and Happy Mother's Day cards my children made for my beloved departed mother-in-law. They provided a very strong sucker punch. Remember how much time I would spend asking and overseeing the production of handmade cards, both for expected (Mother's Day) and for the many, many unexpected (emergency room visits, hospital admissions, and way back to the diagnosis(es - because not even that long ago we were doing this for my Dad, too)? Well, guess what - there's no need for these cards. The beautiful emotion in these cards? Lost, or mingled with tears and fears that everyone else is going to leave too.
I wouldn't wish for my beloved mother-in-law to be suffering anymore - emotionally as well as physically, because as much as all of the uncertainty of not being able to ever really know where I was going to be, what I could do, where I could go, what I could commit to (because someone could get sick, or get admitted to the hospital, or this might be the last holiday, the last family dinner, the last shopping trip, the last time I even get to visit her in the hospital, and then someone might be dying) BOTHERED me, it was probably worse for my mother-in-law, because she was the one watching her own life contract and fly away.
Now I can make plans again (if I care too, mostly I don't still). Now we could plan a vacation and actually use those plans. And I have a lot of free time that has been carved out until fairly recently with either watching kids (while my husband rushes to the hospital, or attends doctor appointments, or researches treatments), picking up pieces, worrying, discussing treatments and prognoses, trying to think of thoughtful things to do, ways to spend those special moments and ways to fit it all in along with all of those many normal things that make up childhood.
But honestly? Regular life isn't all I was wishing it could be and I would give most things up to just be back to about 4 months ago when I had no regular life but I did have my mother-in-law.
If the blanket lifts - and it does, inexplicably - it feels good to see those colors, to run around like all the regular people in the world who aren't suffering or certainly aren't showing it if they are. "Wow! Can't believe I can actually be happy or care about that!" You'd think one would welcome the lifting of the blanket.
Nope. Not really...and not just because you feel your responsibilities and those aren't always fun picnics with free cotton candy and lots of pretty gardens to skip through every day.
No, I hate the lifting of the blanket because of the sucker punch that comes when I'm least expecting it. WHAM! Remember that? Remember how much it sucks that you loved that person and THEY ARE NEVER COMING BACK? Or worse, Remember how much your children loved that person and THEY ARE NEVER COMING BACK. Or possibly even worse, Remember how much your husband loved that person and SHE IS NEVER COMING BACK AND YOUR HUSBAND MIGHT NOT COME BACK FOR A LONG TIME, EITHER.
Tonight I was cleaning up yet another mess my darling, dearest, beloved and special eldest daughter had created recently (she's a mess maker, that one), and I stumbled upon a whole entire cache of Get Well! cards, I LOVE YOU! cards, and Happy Mother's Day cards my children made for my beloved departed mother-in-law. They provided a very strong sucker punch. Remember how much time I would spend asking and overseeing the production of handmade cards, both for expected (Mother's Day) and for the many, many unexpected (emergency room visits, hospital admissions, and way back to the diagnosis(es - because not even that long ago we were doing this for my Dad, too)? Well, guess what - there's no need for these cards. The beautiful emotion in these cards? Lost, or mingled with tears and fears that everyone else is going to leave too.
I wouldn't wish for my beloved mother-in-law to be suffering anymore - emotionally as well as physically, because as much as all of the uncertainty of not being able to ever really know where I was going to be, what I could do, where I could go, what I could commit to (because someone could get sick, or get admitted to the hospital, or this might be the last holiday, the last family dinner, the last shopping trip, the last time I even get to visit her in the hospital, and then someone might be dying) BOTHERED me, it was probably worse for my mother-in-law, because she was the one watching her own life contract and fly away.
Now I can make plans again (if I care too, mostly I don't still). Now we could plan a vacation and actually use those plans. And I have a lot of free time that has been carved out until fairly recently with either watching kids (while my husband rushes to the hospital, or attends doctor appointments, or researches treatments), picking up pieces, worrying, discussing treatments and prognoses, trying to think of thoughtful things to do, ways to spend those special moments and ways to fit it all in along with all of those many normal things that make up childhood.
But honestly? Regular life isn't all I was wishing it could be and I would give most things up to just be back to about 4 months ago when I had no regular life but I did have my mother-in-law.
The contender for the background picture
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| I just love how Margaret is running so fast her wattles are flying! (wattle=fleshy thing under the chin) |
WHOA it takes a long time to set up a blog...
I spent about an hour making the picture of my beloved chickens close to a good size for this page...and thinking of things to say (don't have anything to say yet)...and thinking of things I want to put on this blog (you'd never know I have ever blogged before, would you)...
And wasting some precious time! After all, it IS a gorgeous fall day. But it is good to get started.
And wasting some precious time! After all, it IS a gorgeous fall day. But it is good to get started.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
An incomplete list of things I do not love.
losing loved ones. regrets. stepping in dog vomit, which is actually also dog poo, as the dog who vomited also ate the other dog's poo. burying pets in August. hard-packed clay soil (which makes burying pets in August a hellish task, but causes me pain in many other ways too). cancer of all sorts but most especially: lung cancer, leukemia, pancreatic cancer, and my brca1 mutation.
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