Till Death Do Us Part...

Last night I went to the annual Larkspur Mother's Group Christmas party. While the party was a huge success and a TON of fun, I found myself in an awkward situation.

We are at that age among our friends where divorce happens. I'm pretty sure the national average is still somewhere over 50%, so it's unavoidable that some of your friends are going to go through it. I have a couple of friends who have been recently divorced and some who are on the verge.

At the party last night, one of the gals who is on the verge began questioning me about my marriage. I found myself, oddly, defending my relationship. I have been trying to understand where she is coming from, where she is at in her life and what she feels is necessary for her to be a happy, whole person.

I honestly don't feel like I judge my friends when they decide to get divorced. No one can really know another person's situation. I feel very strongly, in all areas of life, that it's one's own business how you handle the tough choices. I have enough to worry about with the things that will actually affect my own life. No time to concern myself with other peoples situations. Not that I don't care! I want my friends to be happy, I just don't feel just in having an opinion when it comes to other peoples relationships.

Anyway, when I found myself in the hot seat, I don't think I was very good at conveying my viewpoint. I was caught off guard, and if for no other reason, I'd like to try again for my husband who deserves to know how I feel.

I by NO means have the perfect relationship. I have shed my share of tears over my husband. He has hurt my feelings, he is sometimes callous, and I definitely wish he were more outgoing. But...

I value my marriage and family. I say things sometimes like, "I think it's important to be married to someone who will take care of you when you're sick." Another friend last night said she could just hire a nurse. That's true but I didn't mean that's the ONLY reason!

I value the fact that I have someone who takes care of me because he loves me and wants the best for me. I know without a doubt, he would take a bullet for me, or beat down a nurse in a hospital to get me the best care. He would sacrifice our house and all of our possessions to make sure the kids or I are always taken care of.

I value the fact that he keeps a job he doesn't really love, traveling away from us and his home, to make sure I can stay home and take care of our kids. I can volunteer in their classes and pick them up from the bus, and be there for EVERY single thing they need because he makes this sacrifice.

I value the fact that I don't have to know ANYTHING about the bills. I don't enjoy that part of reality and even though he really wishes I would be more involved, he understands and takes care of all of it.

I value Wade's friendship. He is the closest person to me and in any situation I know if I need him, he has my back. I can tell him ANYTHING and even when he thinks I'm wrong he still at least tries to see my side of it.

I know what it's like to have a day so bad, you're not sure you will survive it. I value the fact that I have Wade to hold my hand and stand by my side and to lift me up off the kitchen floor when I don't think I can get up by myself.

I love, adore and am SERIOUSLY attracted to my husband! I value that!!! He thinks I am beautiful even when I've gained a few pounds. He's never said anything to me about how he wished I looked differently. He has never noticed my scars, paid any attention to my stretch marks, or remarked about my gray hair or wrinkles. If he has noticed ANY of those things, I surely don't know it.

I think marriage is hard. I think some days it's really REALLY hard, but more often than not I am truly happy. I know we are giving our kids stability and love. They see us fight sometimes, but they also see us make up. They see us kiss and love each other, and they see us laugh together. I value that because I don't come from that kind of a childhood.

I know how short life can be - sometimes shockingly short. I don't want to spend it with ANYONE other than Wade. He is my rock and the right person to balance out my weaknesses. I love you Wade. Thank you for everything.

Break a Leg

I haven't been writing much, we've been busy. First it was the Swine Flu, then they had fall break and then last week they were off for three days because of snow. I've played a TON of board games, made homemade play dough, painted fingernails, did arts and crafts, watched movies I've already seen a dozen times, went sledding and to the arcade, and baked everything I know how to bake. This week they finally went back to school, but they have tomorrow off for a teacher day. BLAGHHH!!

In between my job as child entertainer and short order cook, I've had a few other things going on. On July 4th I ran the Four on the Fourth in Palmer Lake, with some friends of mine. (I realize that was four months ago but there is a reason I'm starting that far back, hang in there...)

There was one guy with us who was a complete bully! He teased me and taunted me and bet me he would beat me. We'll call this man Joe...

I am sort of competitive, so when I lost sight of Joe within the first ten minutes of the run, I knew it would take all of my strength and determination to catch up to him. At some point in the race I hurt my leg. I felt it... it hurt bad... I kept running. I am blaming the fact that I kept running on Joe. My DH is thrilled with this because it means I'm not blaming it on him.

Anyway, four months later and my leg still hurts. I went out for a run with my kids during our three week hiatus from school. It was a VERY slow run, but my leg still hurt afterward. I am fed up with this. My darling friend and doctor told me it was basically a bruised bone and could take up to nine months to heal. I DON'T LIKE THIS ANSWER. I made an appointment with an Orthopedic Surgeon.

Smarty Pants asked what I expected out of this appointment. I told her I wanted the NFL option. If I were in the NFL what would you tell me. She answered, "They'd tell you it's time to retire."

We had to bench her for that comment. She could have at least said I needed a Medical Marijuana card.

The doctors appointment was today. I feel sort of silly going. I can walk just fine. It doesn't hurt at all unless I am running or jumping on it. The obvious answer is to stop running and jumping, but I've done that for the past four months. Now, I am depressed and gaining weight. THIS WILL NOT DO.

I walked into the doctors office in a fabulous mood. I was going to find out what was really wrong and figure out the fastest way to being back in my Asics. I bounced up to the receptionists desk, filled out the paperwork and skipped to the waiting area to sit down.

When I sat down I started to look around. The others in the room were NOT as skippy or happy as I was. They looked beat up! Two were in wheelchairs, two were on crutches and two small children had casts on their arms.

The lady sitting next to me did not have a cast on but was on crutches and had a terrible look of pain and regret across her unhappy little face. She looked like she was in SO much pain I wanted to offer her a bullet to bite on.

I began rummaging through my purse for something to offer her, but all I could find was Midol and some gum. I was going to offer them to her just as the nurse called her name. She struggled to get up balancing her crutches with her x-rays and her purse until the nurse finally came over to help her.

"Do you need some pain medication?" the nurse asked.

"No, I'm already on some," she answered. THIS look was medicated?? I'd hate to see her when it wears off!

Three other people left the waiting room before me, all with the assistance of a loved one or the nurse to push their wheelchair or help them maneuver the crutches. Other people came in while I was waiting too, all looking like they had been hit by a bus! One lady arrived in a wheelchair AND on oxygen! Her bone hurt so bad she couldn't even breathe!

When the doctor came out and called my name I remained in my seat for a second. I felt the panic coming over me. I knew as soon as I stood up everyone would judge me, "What the hell is she doing here? She's not even hurt!" I thought about faking a limp as I walked to meet him, but I couldn't even remember which leg I had hurt. What if I limped on the wrong leg?

I made it through the walk of shame and he led me back to the office. It turned out he was really nice. He was a runner and could understand my frustration. He marked my leg with a giant X where I said it hurt and sent me back for an x-ray. When he came back into the room he told me the x-ray hadn't shown anything.

"I'd like to send you for an MRI," he said.

Okay. I mean what am I going to say at this point. Never mind. Just being here has made me feel SO much better!

On the way out of the office the doctor was telling me about a patient he had seen earlier. He had broken his collar bone and it was actually sticking out of his back! "First time I've ever seen that," he said.

I felt like a complete idiot! That guy obviously needed to go to the doctor.

"Wow! Yep... well... thanks." I stammered.

Then just as I was about to walk away he asked, "So, how fast do you run?"

I frowned thinking about my answer.

"Not as fast as Joe."

This little piggy went Wee Wee Wee all the way home.

The kids have the Swine Flu. It was confirmed yesterday in the doctors office. The funny thing is, it’s really not that bad. They are coughing hard and without the Tylenol their fever spikes to about 102, that’s when they feel really crummy. But, as long as I stay on the Tylenol they are happy, playing, normal, but completely contagious, little kids.

The doctor told me to keep them out of school the rest of the week. My son has been out the entire week and my daughter has been out since Monday afternoon.

It’s ironic that this happened this week. DH and I have been having our annual argument. You see he travels all the time. He eats in restaurants and entertains clients and sleeps in hotels nearly every week. I stay home.

I am a STAY HOME mom. It means I stay home. I go to the store. I sometimes get to go to an exercise class. I volunteer in their classrooms and set up their assemblies but mostly I STAY HOME. We eat dinner at home, almost everyday. If I have a reason to be in town with the kids, say a football practice or something, and DH is out of town, we’ll swing through the Taco Bell for dinner but other than that, we stay home.

We have homework to do every night and baths to take and reading to do and we are pretty strict about their bedtimes being 8-8:30. That hardly leaves any time to be out frolicking about.

DH doesn’t understand when he comes home why I want to go OUT! He has no desire to go out he wants to STAY HOME! I will go to movies, or football games or friends houses, or shopping, just about anything to just get out of the house and have an adult conversation that lasts more than ten minutes, and which is NOT interrupted by the kids.

Being a stay home mom is really isolating.

Add sick kids on top of that… and DH is out of town.

I have listened to them fight over the Xbox everyday, we’ve played the game Sorry, seven times, we’ve watched kid movies I’ve seen a dozen times. We’ve made brownies and Chicken Noodle Soup and I’ve listened to them fight over their crayons or the channel on the TV, but I have NOT had an adult conversation that has lasted over ten minutes in the past three days. Today, being the forth.

Being a stay home mom is really isolating.

I understand that traveling for a living isn’t fun either. I get why he wants to stay home. But I’m not going into that side of it here, let him write his own blog. This one is for me.

I need to get out of the house. I need to go to museums and out for drinks and to dinner once in a frickin’ blue moon. I need to go to movies, and lunches and hang out at friends houses. If I don’t do those things, I will be a crazy person. Today, I am a crazy person.

It is Thursday and the doctor said by Saturday or Sunday they can start getting out of the house again. Next week my kids are on fall break. We will be looking for ANYTHING to do outside of the house. Anybody got any ideas?

I'm Sailing Away

About a year ago I watched an Oprah about the power of attraction. I thought the show might be about Jeffery Dean Morgan or that hot, Argentina Polo player, Nacho Figueras, but it wasn’t. It was about the power of positive thinking, specifically in getting the things you want in your life.

One of the gals on the show was showing this board she made. She had taken pictures of things she wanted in her life and glued them to a poster board. Somewhere on the board she had a picture of Oprah because one of her goals was to meet and be on Oprah. Well, here she was!

Another gal on the show said she tells herself everyday that “the world is conspiring in her favor.” I really liked the imagery that thought put into my head. It’s like all the little creatures, birds, deer, faeries, elves, trees, even Mother Nature, sitting around thinking about how they can make my day, my world, a little better. I wrote that sentence in my loft above my writing desk.

In fact, I made myself a little positive attraction board. I even wrote about it in this blog: http://beingwrite.blogspot.com/2008/07/grumpy-dragon-wins.html. At some point I added to my board. I included a picture of a bright red, mustang convertible because I love them, and I picture of a beautiful black grand piano.

Well, my board became a little more real this week. I received a call from my fairy god mother. She wondered if I still wanted a piano.

Back tracking a little to make this story better…

When I was growing up, we had an old, upright piano. It had keys that stuck and we never had the money to get it tuned, but I still loved it. I bought a book on how to play piano and it came with these little clear stickers that had the notes on them and I stuck them to the keys. I spent hours trying to teach myself how to play. I think I learned the basics and even had one song I could play with both hands, it was Sailing Away by Styx!

I have ALWAYS wanted another piano.

So, my fairy god mother calls… she has a friend who has a baby grand piano she is thinking of giving away. We went to visit her yesterday. This woman is so kind! I told her the story of trying to teach myself how to play and she told me she had a similar story. She said she was torn about giving the piano away, but she could tell it was important to me, and she really wanted it to have a good home. I assured her it would be loved and played!

The piano is beautiful! It’s a 1907 Hardman & Peck. It was refurbished in the 80’s. I’ve honestly never been given something so beautiful and generous and it came from a complete stranger. The funny thing is, it looks exactly like the piano picture on my poster board!

It’s being delivered on Wednesday and if you see me before that with my kids, please don’t talk about it in front of them, it’s a surprise.

I can hear you pessimists out there now, laughing about my magic board. You can doubt the power of the board all you want, but just wait till that red mustang convertible drops out of the sky!!!

The world is conspiring in my favor! Now I just need to find the sheet music to Sailing Away.

Climbing Mountains

It was 4am and I was standing on my front porch in the dark, praying that a mountain lion wouldn’t eat me before I had my chance to conquer the mountains. Two close friends, my sister and I were climbing Greys and Torreys, two of Colorado’s beautiful 14ers so we had to get an early start.

The night before, as I packed my bag, I wondered if I would really need my lipstick. I packed it anyway. As the four of us met to drive up together I told them I was all set - lipstick in hand. They all laughed but each of them had brought an unusual item. One of them also brought lipstick (we are very much alike), one brought her iPod with the flashlight application (it really didn’t shine very bright), and one… my sister, brought some of the ashes of her husband Steve.

We had a goal. Steve loved the outdoors. He loved climbing the highest mountains he could find. Lisa and Steve had a plan to climb one together. In a way, we were going to accomplish that today.

As we drove up in the dark, we laughed and talked about the day. We were all excited. The two friends had done this before but this was the first 14er for my sister and me. Lisa and I were excited and a little anxious. They made fun of me for drinking coffee on the way up, they were pretty sure this would become a problem later in the morning. I couldn’t help it, there’s no way I’m rising before dawn without a little Joe.

We started out on the trail just before 6 am. The sun was beginning to rise and we were relieved to see we wouldn’t need the iPod flashlight to show us the way. We all chatted. The path at the beginning is a very gradual climb. We had a pretty long stretch before we would be above tree line. After a short time, I noticed my sister wasn’t talking much. I thought she was thinking about the day. Turned out she couldn’t breathe very well and was struggling not to pass out.

The friends who had done this before quickly realized what was happening and gave her some time to rest. They assured her this was a journey and it wasn’t about how fast we did it, it was only about accomplishing our goal. We fed her a snack, gave her some water and started off again.

Throughout the first part of the climb we stopped often. Letting everyone catch their breath and getting acclimated to the altitude. Then as we rounded a corner in the hike, the mountains we were about to climb suddenly appeared before us. They looked very far away and beyond challenging. I remembered a line from a book I read recently, “The only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.” I was still excited and my adrenaline kept me moving forward.

I’m not sure of all the thoughts that went through Lisa’s head as we climbed. She only voiced a few.

“What the hell are we doing?”

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”

“Look at all these happy ass people coming down.”

“Is she really running up this mountain in shorts? What the hell is wrong with that woman?”

“What have you bitches gotten me into?”

There were times when she was sincerely mad at us for getting her into the situation. The last time I saw that look on her face was in 6th grade when I wore her new Britanica jeans to field day and I fell and ripped them. She was pissed.

As we got towards the top of Greys, the wind picked up and it got really cold. I actually have never felt wind like that even when I lived in Kansas. I seriously thought for one second that it might blow me right off the mountain. I haven’t felt that light in a really long… well, EVER! It was fierce, almost like the last push to the top needed to be the hardest challenge any of us could bear.

During the hike I pretty much stayed in front the whole way, but as I knew we were about to summit I backed off. I wanted Lisa to be the first one up. She stepped up on the mountain and stood frozen to her spot for a moment. Then she turned around and we all started to cry.

We made it! It was freezing cold and the wind was whipping us about but we stood and took photos and then waited while Lisa retrieved Steve’s ashes from her backpack. She stood on the edge while we all watched, and let some of Steve’s ashes fly off the side of the mountain into the wind. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… Steve would have been so proud of us.

We would have liked to stay on the mountain and revel in our success but we weren’t done yet. The saddleback to Torreys lay ahead. It looked very steep, but not nearly as far as standing at the bottom looking up at both of them. As we crossed the saddleback there was talk about heading back and not tackling the second mountain. As far as Lisa was concerned she’d done what she came for and didn’t need another hour climb. I knew before anyone else had decided that there was no way I was leaving without tackling Torreys as well.

I just kept walking and they all followed behind, BUT… not before I realized I SERIOUSLY had to pee! We had been above tree line for hours now and there wasn’t really any place to squat without bystanders. I was getting to the point where I didn’t really care who saw me pee, but as we came down the saddleback, I realized we were in a perfect spot. I called out to my other friend who I knew needed to go as badly as I did and we both dropped our drawers. There’s something really cool about peeing on the side of a mountain! I felt very manly!

Anyway, after the call of nature was complete we headed up the steep and rocky road to Torreys. Lisa was struggling. Finally, she gave up. She sat down and started to cry. I knew she was irritated. I also knew our friends would sit with her until she was ready to either continue on or give up. There was just one problem. There were dark clouds starting to roll in. I’m all about accomplishing my goals, but not when there is a great risk of being struck by lightening!! That’s the only time of the entire day when I contemplated giving up.

Lisa convinced us to continue up without her. We could move faster and hopefully beat the clouds. The one friend who has climbed the most 14ers convinced me these were snow clouds and not rain clouds. I sure hoped she was right. As we climbed we caught up with some guys who we had met on the other mountain. They asked if we had lost one of our friends. We said yes she was waiting down below, but when we turned to check on her we saw she was heading up behind us. We all started to cheer for her.

We all four made it to the top of Torreys together!

At the top there was a scroll to sign with our names and the date we climbed. I wrote my name and Lisa’s and then I wrote Steve Mitchell RIP 9-14-09. Lisa again opened the bag of ashes and let some more of Steve fly off of the mountain top and into the wind. I took a moment to really look around. It was incredible being up above all of the other mountains. It was so beautiful and peaceful. I can’t imagine a place Steve would love more.

We soon started back down. The journey down was actually harder for me than the trip up. All of the excitement and anticipation was behind me. It was snowy and slick and in some places treacherous. I didn’t enjoy stumbling and falling on the rocks and snow. We all laughed and made the best of it, but the only thing that really kept me going were the Mojitos I knew were waiting for us in the car and MAN were they worth it!!

My friends asked me if I thought that was harder than running the BolderBoulder. I had to think about it for a second. At the BolderBoulder I hit a wall. In mile 5 I was tired and didn’t think I could keep going. It was the hardest HOUR of my life, but this hike was 8 hours. It tested my endurance and although I never felt physically like I wouldn’t finish, it was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Afterwards we drove a little way down the mountain and found a good place to park. We all sat together, enjoyed a snack and our cocktails, and talked about our day. I remember after Steve died Lisa’s therapist told her that healing was similar to climbing a mountain. It would be difficult and long but she could make it to the top.

I am so proud of her for all that she has accomplished in the last three years. She was dealt a really shitty hand. Things have been so hard, but she has NEVER given up. She may bitch about the climb, she may even sit out once in a while thinking she’s done, but she always gets back up and continues on. I hope that in the tough times in my life I will have the strength she has had to always make it to the top. 　
　

Beware!! Aggressive Mountain Goats

I’m feeling rather random lately and I wouldn’t be surprised if this blog is a mess.

I’m pissed off that our school principal wouldn’t let our kids see the Presidential address. I remember when I was a kid. I loved the president. I had NO idea if he was a Republican or a Democrat, I loved him because he was the President.

Our principal said it was because our school doesn’t have the bandwidth capacity to allow all of the classes to watch. Funny, when I was in Jr. High we watched the space shuttle explode on a TINY little TV. in the library. There were no expectations for the entire school to have individual showings in their own classrooms. We ALL huddled around a 9inch and watched together. I just don’t see what would have been the harm in SHARING a computer screen. Unbelievable…

I honestly thought about taking my kids out of the school for the address, and showing them here at home. But after I heard what the message was… staying in school and working hard, kind of seemed like a contradiction.

And THEN last night, I had my kids sitting next to me on the sofa watching the Presidential address to Congress. I guess I shouldn’t have been so surprised when someone yelled out at the President that he was a liar! And I suppose my immediate tears were an over-reaction, but WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?

Where has our integrity gone? How about basic MANNERS? How can we expect our children to respect their elders, their principals, teachers etc. when they are watching the HIGHEST Official in our country be screamed at while he is trying to speak? I’m not feeling all that confident over the state of our country. President Obama talked last night about the “character of our country”, I think we should be pretty ashamed of that today.

Besides all that political business, my darling boy has his first football game tonight. I am excited! I hope he does well.

I am working on re-writes and editing again on the book I have been working on for over two years. I am getting really close to the next step, or at least deciding the next step. It’s pretty difficult. To me it’s like trying to decide which babysitter you should choose for your newborn. I am afraid of handing it over only to hear the baby go THUD!

And in other news… I’m hiking my first fourteener on Sunday. Well actually, I’m hiking my first TWO! I’m excited and a little nervous... I’ve heard those mountain goats are pretty aggressive!!
　
　
　

It's my birthday!

Today is my birthday. I am not generally a big fan of my birthday. It’s not the getting older part but the expectation of having a GREAT birthday. I don’t love being the center of attention. I feel like I’m living in a fishbowl on my birthday, everyone judging, “Is she having a good day? What’s she doing? SO… do you have BIG plans for your birthday?”

“Ummmm… no.”

But today started out fabulous, and the plans I have are fabulous too!

My son keeps telling me this is going to be his best day ever! He gets to change seats today in class (apparently a very big deal), then Dr. Love is taking him to football practice after school (a huge highlight to show off in front of someone new), then he gets to come to my “party”. It made me happy to walk with him to the bus stop and listen to how excited he is for HIS big day!

After the kids got on the bus I took a leisurely walk back to the house. It was very quiet and I reflected on how lucky I am. I have the best friends I’ve ever had in my life. They are this group of incredible women who can accomplish anything! I have been lucky to be a part of this group for a couple of years now and we just seem to get closer through time. They are the friends who I will go through the rest of my life with. We will have good times and tragic times, we will have disagreements and we will have parties, we will drink coffee together and booze. No matter what, I feel secure in their friendship. With them, I know I can be myself.

Dear friends, thank you!!!

After I write this I’m going to meet Smarty Pants. She is one of the best things that came out of 37. I remember thinking for a really long time that I wasn’t looking for my Ethel. I wanted to have many friends who filled many parts of my life but I didn’t need a best friend. I was wrong, I got my Ethel. She is someone to call when Ricky is being a pest! Someone who will bring cake over when she knows I need it, and someone who won’t necessarily get me out of a jam but will join me in the predicament because we both know it’ll be more fun to stick it out than to cut and run. I love you Ethel. Love Lucy

And tonight we are gathering with my great group of friends, my mom and my sister for a “random Tuesday night party.” Smarty Pants knows I don’t love my birthday, so she sent out this invitation.

Hello,
I am going to have a party at my house on Tuesday the 1st of September right after school until ???. It is only a coincidence that this happens to be SUSANNE's BITRHDAY!!
It is very important that you do not call it her birthday party. Do not bring her a gift (she made me promise to put that part but what can she really do?). Just so you know she has also threatened me with physical violence but I am not afraid. Anyway, dinner is a Mexican theme!! Let me know if you want to bring something but you don't have too!!
We will be having Chocolate cake...not birthday cake... just because we like cake, cake!!
I hope you can all come to the non-birthday its just a random Tuesday party!!!
Xoxo

SO… I am going to go eat “just because we like cake, cake!!” And I am going to enjoy being with my friends and family. Looks like I do have BIG plans. Hey, maybe there is something to this whole birthday thing after all! YEAH ME!!!
　

Pollyanna

I received an email today from my 8-year-old’s teacher. She said that she loves his sense of humor and his positive outlook. I love hearing this. I remember my father-in-law and myself having a conversation when he was little about whether a positive attitude was nature or nurture. I really wanted my kids to have a positive outlook on life.

DH tends to be more of a “realist” (this is a nice way for me to say he’s kind of negative). When something bad happens its because "Bad things ALWAYS happen to him." He expects things to go wrong. He sort of has a "Well that figures" attitude.

I am DH's exact opposite. He calls me Pollyanna. I'm pretty sure that came from my mother. We read a book called Pollyanna written by Eleanor H. Porter when I was a kid. Pollyanna was an orphan who lived with her aunt. Her aunt was sort of mean and nasty, but Pollyanna played a game her father taught her to always find the bright side of things. There have been a few times in my life when I lost my Pollyanna. The funny thing is DH always reminds me, "Where's my Pollyanna?" He sees it as me being sort of naive to the world, always expecting the best, but he also sort of counts on me to be that way.

My son was very much like his dad when he was little. Everything was VERY dramatic! If something went wrong it was the end of the world. He's gotten a lot better as he's gotten older. He lives more on the "Bright Side" now.

We play a game at dinner where the kids have to tell me the best and the worst part of their day. They both ALWAYS have a best, or TWO or THREE to share. The worst is always funny. At least to me…

My 6-year-olds worst, “The fire alarm went off at school today and it scared me and made me cry.”

My son, “They told us over the intercom it was going to happen.”

Daughter, “I know, but it scared me.”

My son’s worst almost always involves some sport. He didn’t make the catch on recess or some total mishap…

“I went to the bathroom and spilled water on my pants so I tried to dry it and it took a long time so I didn’t get my work done and I had to miss a minute of recess to finish.”

I love my kids. I believe they will both end up being a bit more like me in the end. I laugh at everything and try and tell them there’s always a bright side. Who wouldn’t choose that over being a naysayer? I think I'll try and find Pollyanna and read it to them... AND I’m still working on DH too, but don‘t tell him, he hasn‘t realized it yet!

Makin' Plans

The weekend’s here and I feel a little need to let loose!

Lately, I’ve been feeling a little tense. School started, so there’s homework every night, and it hasn’t gone very smooth. My eight year old is a great kid. Really great! BUT, he has this unique ability to find the easiest way out of every situation that should involve hard work. We are struggling with the lesson that it’s important to do things the right way, the FIRST time. I am meeting with his teacher this afternoon, just to give her the 411 on his “talents”.

That, and the whole volunteering thing stresses me out! My town could give any soap opera a run for it’s money on the level of drama associated with the school. When I even begin to think about PTO meetings and fundraisers, I break out into a cold sweat and start pacing the room like a caged animal. I’ve often thought it would be fun to write about the women of Larkspur… there certainly is plenty of material, but I’m afraid my house would be burned to the ground and my children voted off the island.

So, my plan for the new year is to sit with my mouth shut and my hands folded gently in my lap. I can hear you all laughing at me in my head… I realize I have trouble keeping my mouth shut… I said, it’s my PLAN! I do realize sometimes plans just don’t work out… I’m still working on plan B. I’ll let you know about that when I figure it out.

Creepy Van Guy

Thanks to this years budget cuts, our new bus stop is nearly a mile from our house. Being the FABULOUS mom that I am, I make the kids walk it every morning. I actually pick them up in the car after school, cuz I think they’re probably tired, but in the morning I think a little walking is good for them. Yesterday, on our walk to the bus, a creepy looking guy in a white van pulls up next to us and rolls down his window.

Creepy grin, “No school today?”

“No, we have school. Just walking to the bus stop.” I reply.

Creepy guy looks at my kids and asks, “Do you want a ride?”

8-year-old son, “YEAH!”

Me, in shock and horror, “No thank you!” Staring at boy whose lost his mind!

Guy, “Opps, guess I asked the wrong one.” He drives off.

I am so surprised at first I don’t know what to say. Then I launch full on into psycho-mom, “ARE YOU CRAZY? You would take a ride from a complete stranger.”

Son: “Mom, he looked nice.”

First of all he didn’t look nice, but I realize that’s not the point. “I don’t care what he looks like, you don’t know him at all!” Then I give him the Ted Bundy example. “Ted Bundy was a really good looking guy. Totally normal looking. He would pretend he had a broken arm so women would help him and then he would throw them in the back of his van and kill them.”

Silence from the kids. Then son speaks up, “But mom, there aren’t any bad people around here.”

“Yes there are. I can guarantee you, there are bad people here too. You don’t ever EVER go with anyone you don’t know. And if someone gets out of a car and tries to grab you, you run. Fast! And scream loud!”

Son: “If someone tried to grab me or sister, I would fight him.”

I roll my eyes. “Listen to me! You can’t fight a grown man, or what if there’s two? You never let anyone get close enough to grab you, you RUN. Got it?”

He’s quiet now, I think it’s sinking in.

Today.

DH is walking with us, we get to the same spot where the guy stopped yesterday and son says, “This is the same spot where you yelled at me yesterday.”

I ask, “Well, what did you learn from yesterday?”

Son: “Bad guys drive vans.”

Yep! Stellar job parenting for me this week!! One quick note:

Dear Creepy Van Driving Guy,
Either you are a complete pedophile and I want you to GET OUT OF MY NEIGHBORHOOD, or you are a complete IDIOT! DO NOT ASK RANDOM KIDS IF THEY WANT A RIDE!! If you come around here again, I will let my eight year old KICK YOUR ASS!

I think my best bet is to NEVER let them out of my sight. This might become trouble when they want to start dating, but my job is to keep them safe. I better start saving for their therapy now.

The Pearly Whites

At our school fundraiser in the Spring, I purchased a teeth whitening session from a dental office. A couple of weeks ago, I met the dentist’s wife. She is the cutest thing! Very happy and friendly, seemed to be a very positive person, until she found out I purchased the teeth whitening. Suddenly her positive, happy mood turned dark and somber.

She leaned over to me and asked, “Do you have any pain killers left over from a c-section or anything?”

“Um… no.”

“Well then you might want to hit the bottle before you come in.”

“Huh?”

“It hurts REAL bad! Imagine being stabbed with needles every three seconds. Seriously, drink heavily before you come.”

So, I was scared. I go into the office to have my teeth cleaned and schedule the whitening. I told the Dentist his wife scared me, he shrugged his shoulders and assured me I’d be alright. He is SERIOUSLY good looking, which made me want to believe him, and I already paid for the darn thing, so I figured how bad could it be?

So today was teeth whitening day. I went in a little apprehensive, but sober. They hooked me up with a movie to distract me.

Let me interrupt this little tale to tell you, I’ve given birth to two children. One the old fashion way, and one by cutting open my stomach, and removing my guts, before yanking the baby from my body. I have had over a hundred stitches in my face from a car accident. I have a tattoo and my belly pierced and I have broken my arm, twice!

NOTHING HURT AS MUCH AS THIS!!

The pain shoots through your teeth into your brain at completely random moments. Dentist’s wife was right, it feels like being stabbed with a needle in the eye! The first couple of times I thought I was hallucinating, did that just happen? Then I felt my body tense waiting for the next “twinge” as the dental hygienist called it when she felt me grasp a hold of her arm in a death grip and try to jump from my chair.

“Oh, are you getting the little sensitive twinge? Yeah, those come and go. Try and relax.” She said as she strapped down my arms and legs with a happy little smile on her face.

Try and relax my ASS! It felt like I was in the chair for days! 45 minutes later I was done and running for the door. BUT, not before she told me the worse part.

“No coffee or red wine for the next 48 hours. Okay?”

WHAT?? These little TWINGES are going to last for three days and I can’t even drink my coffee or medicate with the red wine? I have now taken one of DH’s pain killers. I can barely type as I am falling asleep at the computer. I have no idea if my teeth are white or not as I am unable to smile. But, I have decided to have another baby. This time without the epidural, just so I can really judge my pain tolerance at this point. Either that or I’m getting a nipple pierced. Either way, I’m sure it’s WAY more fun than having your teeth whitened!

Duck Swallower!

Smarty Pants swallowed a duck. A WHOLE duck.

One minute everyone was fine, Smarty Pants was rafting behind the boat with DH trying REALLY hard to throw her off. The little duck was swimming around, diving for his food, thinking about watching Nemo tonight with his little ducklings… next thing you know, Smarty is tumbling through the air and smashing into the water. DH circles the boat around to fetch her, which is really nice of him… you know… not leaving her in the middle of the lake or anything, and when we arrive she is gasping and sputtering and can barely choke out the horrible truth. “I swallowed a duck!”

Man! Bad day to be a duck…
Good day to be on the boat! My stomach hurts from laughing.

Oh by the way, to all of you who want to know who my Pot Smoking Whore for a friend is... I'm not telling. And for the rest of you who may be curious, he read my post and texted me not to worry, we're still friends!! Guess he's one of them thick skin ones! Yea me! Kept a friend!!

Putt Putt and Mean Girls

I’ve decided to start lying more. I think it will be better for my reputation.

This last weekend we went to our family reuinion in Albuquerque. My sister and I drove with the four kids, and DH met us there. He had been working in New Mexico so it worked out beautifully.

The reunion was SO much fun! My uncle who hosted, spent the last year building a mini putt putt course, a Bocci ball course and a Horseshoe pit, in his backyard. We had a huge family tournament on all the games, plus he hired a line dancing teacher and a DJ who played Karaoke.

My brothers were there, at least two of them were… I actually think I have three but the other one doesn’t show up much, so I get confused. My middle brother brought his new girlfriend. Apparently in the car ride to Albuquerque he was trying to describe his family to her and I got the description of “The Mean One”. Sadly, I’m not surprised!

I have a tendency to offer up my opinion often without being asked. I also “call ‘em like I see ‘em” which doesn’t win me too many points either. I think it would make my family feel a little better if they knew I do this with everyone, it’s not just my family! I also think it would be good for them to know, I’m starting to see this as a flaw.

Many times, as family and friend dynamics work, people tell lies. Little lies, to try and avoid telling someone you love they may be making a bad choice. The trouble I have with this is then all of the people who have “Saved Face” by telling you what you wanted to hear, tell everyone else- behind your back- what they REALLY THINK!

“So you’ve decided to quit your job to become a Rock Star! Wow! I really think that’s courageous! Seriously, you’re SO talented!”

“Did you hear about Jimmy joining the band? I KNOW!! One time, a fox killed something in our backyard and I seriously thought it was Jimmy making all that noise!”

I also think I have a twisted sense of humor. It gets me into trouble ALL THE TIME! I think things are funny that NO one else does. Well, that’s not entirely true. My sister and My Smarty Pants, have the same sense of humor. Hmmm… what’s that tell ya?

Two weeks ago, I called a friend of ours a “Pot Smoking Whore” to his face! My sister fell on the floor laughing, and Smarty peed her Pants! The guy… I’m not sure we’re friends anymore…

All of this has led me to some serious personal reflection. I could be nicer. I could try the path of least resistance and tell you whatever you want to hear. I would have more friends. My family would call me the “Nice One”, but here’s the rub, I like the way I am.

I think life is worth laughing over. If someone is messing with someone I love, I am FIERCELY on my loved one’s side. I have few friends, but the few I have are FUNNY (and have thick skin). They know who I am and I truly believe they like me just the way I am. They also know I want the same honesty from them (maybe with a hint of humor laced through), but if I'm screwing up, for peet's sake, somebody TELL ME!

OR… none of them really like me at all, they just say that to my face, then turn around and tell everyone behind my back that I’M THE MEAN ONE! Could be...　
　

Thanks for the Memories!

Reunion’s over, plus a day of rest which was much needed. WOW! It was way more than I imagined. Smarty Pants and my sister were the BEST back up a girl could ever ask for. Friday night we had SO much fun. When we arrived at the bar it was almost like taking a walk through my memory. The place was crowded and everywhere I looked was someone I knew a long time ago. My girls settled themselves at the bar and not only did they have their own fun all night long, but they gave me moral support and a drink whenever I needed one!

There are so many stories about these people. I’m stymied about what to write.

The girl who lived across the street from us was there. We played every game possible with her. We rode bikes together, and made mud cakes, and suntanned on her roof wearing baby oil. She has two babies of her own now and I hope they get to live across the street from someone like her.

My best friend from Kindergarten through 6th grade was there. She was the girl I first chased boys with and who I ALWAYS wanted to spend the night. We had secret clubs (that everyone knew about) and secret spiral notebooks which we passed around to all our friends with questions on every page like “Who do you like? And Who would you kiss?” She was my first friend that moved away. I have missed her for 15 years and we have finally just reconnected.

The guys that tried to teach me how to use a computer in third grade were there. That was funny! It was back when everything you did was a “code”. I don’t remember actually learning anything, but they tried! They are still my friends and I love them, I ended up spending most of the evening with them. Including breakfast at 2am. (yes, I stayed out REALLY late in Denver again!) We weren’t super close in high school, but now they are the friends I would most like to spend more time with.

And the first guy to ever break my heart was there. We were in 7th grade, thirteen years old! My friend Marcia liked him and gave me the job of finding out if he liked her. Turns out, he liked me! That was one of the first friends I lost because of a boy. We “went out” for a couple of months. I actually have no idea how long. Sadly, it made a much bigger impression in my memory.

I was a cheerleader and we were at a track meet. One of my friends from Elementary school went to a different Jr. High and she was there. I was so excited for her to meet my boyfriend, but when he showed up he broke up with me. Devastated doesn’t begin to describe it! It’s so funny to me now. Thirteen years old and I thought I could die over this boy who I passed notes to and kissed in the hallway. He’s earned himself a place in my memory only reserved for “the firsts”.

He grew up to be a great guy. He’s married with two little boys. I teased him a lot that night, I think he took it well.

There were plenty of others. The guy who set my house on fire. The two guys who flew through the screen door on their bikes. The girls who were my best friends with way too many memories to even write about. The friends I learned to drive with. The friend whose car I hit the day after I got my license. These people didn’t necessarily know the “best me”, because that’s me now, but they were my firsts and I loved seeing them all!

Saturday, was much more reserved. One bit of advice for those of you who haven’t seen your reunion yet, don’t take your spouse. He didn’t have any fun and was ready to leave way before I was. He got his way, and we snuck out without saying goodbye to anyone. I regret leaving, but then again, he’s the guy who loves me now for who I turned out to be. I just wish he could have appreciated meeting the people who helped me become who I am now.

To the Thornton High class of ‘89! Thanks for the memories!! I hope we don't wait another 10 years to see each other again.

Most Likely to Bring Back up Friends to her Reunion

My 20 year high school reunion is coming up this weekend. I created a little checklist.

• Nice outfit and GREAT shoes CHECK
• Washed that Gray right out of my hair CHECK
• Speed dial to my therapist CHECK
• Laid ground work on Facebook CHECK
• Back up friends to offer support and encouragement CHECK
• Sister to hold my hand CHECK

How come boys don’t worry about their reunion the same way girls do? DH had his twenty a few years back (yep, he robbed the cradle with me!) and he just threw on something out of the closet last minute and went. I don’t think he even bought a new shirt. Not that I’ve been stressing over any of it, but it definitely requires some shopping! And a cut and color. And new shoes. It’s mostly about the shoes...

I am seriously taking my sister and Smarty Pants as backup for Friday night. I’m sorry but I don’t get out all that often and I need to have reassurance I’m going to have fun. After all, I haven’t seen any of these people since my 10! A night out in Denver, with a hotel room is just not something you squander without some serious consideration.

But really, I can’t wait to see my old girlfriends, we were really tight in high school. We called ourselves the PITS ~ Pam, Ingrid, Tiffany and Suz. I just found out Tiffany’s not going to make it this year. I’m sad about that, without her we’re just the PTS which sounds like some sort of disorder “If you think you may have PTS talk to your doctor immediately!”

I also found out my HS boyfriend’s not going. I dated the same guy all three years. Well, off and on, we broke up a lot. He didn’t come to the 10 and he’s not coming to the 20 either. It’s not that I really have any sort of need to reconnect. He’s a Facebook friend now, it just would have been nice to see him after all this time.

Back then I was Susie and was most known for the fact that I was, “The Most Popular girl’s… best friend”. You know the girl no one really notices because she’s standing right next to the most beautiful, friendly, fabulous girl… yep, that was me!

Right up until my senior year. Then I went out on a limb and auditioned for the senior play. The play was called “The Girl in the Mirror”, and I got the part as “The Girl”. After that, I got voted “Most Theatrical”. I know it’s not “Most Popular” or “Most likely to succeed”, but it’s a MOST something right!?

I wonder why we didn’t try harder to come up with better most likely’s…

Most likely to become a vagrant
Most likely to sleep with a college professor
Most likely to skip college for a career as a pole dancer
Most likely to get a felony conviction

Now that would have been fun to follow up on.

At our 10, our class president, my friend Pam (I seriously did hang out with the Important People!), had each of the “most whatever’s” stand up and tell everyone what they were doing now. I was in sales at the time, I mean how apropos. “Most theatrical” is now acting like you NEED to buy this very important whatchamacallit.

This year I hope I don’t have to stand up. What would I say now, “I was voted Most Theatrical, now I’m a stay home mom. I use my theater training daily to persuade my kids to brush their teeth and eat their vegetables. I’m also a writer, basically I make shit up, and no I don’t actually get paid for it yet.”

Hey! I actually like that title WAY better… Most Likely to Make Shit Up! Yep that’s me!

DEET?? Who needs DEET!

There are only three good things about this last weekend of tent camping. I survived, I skied and laughed really hard at Smarty Pants trying to ski and I got a ROCKIN’ tan.

We went up to Blue Mesa for the weekend. We have been doing this tent weekend for a lot of years. I married an outdoorsman. I knew when I married him I would have to take these kinds of “vacations”. In fact when he asked me to marry him, we were out in the woods.

When he says “Lets go camping.” I hear, “Bring the vodka cause you’re going to want to forget most of what’s happening.”

We took Smarty pants, her three girls, and her niece, and got to the lake late Thursday afternoon. That’s when the real fun started. As we were putting together two tents, and two Easy-Ups (which by the way, aren’t all that easy) we noticed there were a few more mosquitoes than last year. Wow! Better spray the kids. We got out the family spray, which doesn’t smell too bad and gave everyone a good dousing.

Within a couple of minutes we realized the spray seemed to be more of an attractant. The little bastards were multiplying. That’s when we decided to start a fire to smoke them out!

Building a fire is one of man’s greatest pleasures. That’s why I thought it was EXTREMELY funny when Smarty Pants took over for DH and built the most incredible MAN fire I have ever seen. And she did it by rubbing two sticks together. No fire starter for her, NO WAY! She succeeded in smoking out our little friends and we roasted Smores and enjoyed our evening.

The next afternoon Dr. Love showed up in his rolling house, and around 5:00 the Invasion began again. There were so many mosquitoes swarming above our heads it would have even scared Alfred Hitchcock. The kids were being eaten alive.

At one point my 6-year-old came down from the camper with SP’s youngest. They had both been bitten about 10 times in the FACE!

5 minutes later, mine looked like she’s taken up a new career with Don King. One of her eyes was practically swollen shut! SP’s little one looked like Joseph Merrick! If Dr. Love hadn’t been there with the voice of reason, I would have FREAKED out and taken them directly to the emergency room, insisting they give us a bed for the night (hey, why not get something out of it).

BUT NO! He gave them both some Benedryl and they were on their way, playing with one good eye and a mutated forehead. Although, they are now both so traumatized they burst into tears at even the slightest buzzing sound.

I am not sure how many people are aware of this but they have taken DEET out of most bug repellents. Apparently it kills brain cells in lab rats so they’ve put out warnings and scared parents out of using it. Funny thing though, BUG REPELLENT DOESN’T WORK WITHOUT IT!! We stuck with the fire as the best solution and on Day 3 realized we had a bug net that attached around one of the Easy-Ups.

Besides the freakish bug attacks everyday, I can’t sleep in a tent. I swear each night felt like it was longer than the last. And the fact that DH doesn’t have that problem, and snores completely content in his happy-camping-dreamland makes me want to smother him with a sleepingbag.

By day four, I’m done. I rolled out of the tent around 7 AM poured myself a cup of camp coffee, which includes the chewy stuff, and a shot of vodka and started praying for the moment we’d be rolling out of there. We made it home Sunday around 7 PM. I was so relieved to take a shower and pee in an indoor toilet I almost cried.

As Dr. Love so eloquently put it, “camping just isn’t my cup of tea.”

Oh… and the Rockin’ Tan I was so excited about… turns out, it was just dirt.
　

Politics and Police

It will be easy to keep writing this Blog if nights like last night keep happening. I was keeping my nephews and decided to invite BFF, Smarty Pants and her hubby, Dr. Love over for dinner. We made homemade pizzas and let the kids play outside. For the most part they were really good, teaching each other how to ride a skateboard and ridding anything with wheels down our really steep driveway.

At some point the kids decided to have a screaming contest. My ten-year-old nephew always wins. He screams this blood curdling, horror show, woman in the shower being stabbed multiple times scream, that he is indeed quite proud of. Which in this case, not only warranted me hollering at him out the window to KNOCK IT OFF, but also must have alerted the neighbors to the “domestic abuse” situation brewing at the Sanstra’s!

About this same time, a political discussion arose in the kitchen among the adults. Anyone who knows us knows we are on polar sides politically with the men in our lives. In fact nearly every friend I have, cancels out the votes of her husband. This leads to some very… um… active discussions.

SO… while officer Michelle is approaching our house because of the domestic abuse call they have received she hears arguing ensuing inside the hacienda! She calls for backup.

At the same moment the doorbell rings several of our kids run in through the backdoor hollering, “THE COPS ARE HERE! THE COPS ARE HERE!”

Dr. Love heads to the front door with me following close behind. Man-Eating Dog is also on his heals. Dr. Love sees the policewoman at the door and not wanting to make the situation worse by having Man-Eating DOG stirring up more trouble, (not sure yet if he's a cop eating dog too!)only opens the door a crack. Not to make ourselves look ANYMORE incriminating, he doesn’t know where the light switches are, so the porch and hallway are completely dark.

Officer: “We’ve had a report of a woman screaming at this residence, can I come in?”

Dr. Love: “Seriously, um… I have a big dog here.”

Officer: “You’re gonna need to let me in, and can you turn on some lights?”

I arrive at the door, grab M.E.D and drag him out back at the same time flipping on the lights. When I get back to the door, all 7 kids and 4 adults are now in attendance in the front hall, with a very BIG, unhappy looking policewoman.

Officer: “We’ve had a call about possible domestic abuse at this house and then I pull up and hear arguing.”

Me: “Oh my gosh, I’m so embarrassed, the kids were screaming outside.”

Officer: “No ma’am this was reported as a woman screaming.”

Me: “Well we are really loud, but we were just having a political conversation. I’m Susanne and I live here.” I put my hand out to shake her hand.

Smarty Pants introduces herself too and tries to shake her hand as well, the officer points at her.

Officer: “It was you.”

Smarty Pants: “Really? I mean I don’t think I was screaming.”
Officer: “No it was definitely you!”

SP: “Well I am Italian.”I am trying not to laugh. The officer tells us with her very authoritative hand motion to SHUT THE HELL UP, and talks into her shoulder radio.

Officer: “This is 244 reporting, cancel back up. Repeat- no need for back up.”

Me: “Seriously, we were just having a political discussion. They are republicans (gesturing to the guys) and we’re democrats.

Officer: “I’m on their side.” She say’s as she steps closer to Dr. Love.

Dr. Love reads the situation quickly, I mean he’s had all that medical training and he’s quick to react, right? He takes this Golden Opportunity to voice his opinion again on the subject we had been discussing.

Me (to Dr. Love): “Seriously, you’re going to start on me again? We’ve already had the cops called on us.”

Dr. Love: “Yeah, but she’s on my side.”

The officer eventually left to attend to an injury accident and we all laughed about the situation for hours after.

To the neighbor who called 911 – Thank you! It’s good to know if I was being stabbed to death in the shower scene of a horror show, someone would alert the police!

To my nephew - Dude, hit puberty already!

And To my Friends - NEVER A DULL MOMENT! LOVE YA!!

You look so Familiar

I haven’t written anything in a while. After a criticism cut too close to me I lost some of the pleasure of it all. After reading The Wednesday Sisters by Meg Waite Clayton, I feel a little better. I am anxious to start again.

I enjoy and appreciate all the people who’ve told me they miss this blog. It’ll never be truly gone because it is beyond me to keep things, thoughts, ideas to myself. This part of my writing is a simple release. I do it to express a thought that’s important to me, or to explore an idea or situation that I found funny. It is not to be taken too seriously.

If you can’t read what I write with that thought in mind, I would prefer you didn’t read it at all.

SO! Here’s a recap of the last few months. We took a trip to Spain, which was fabulous, yes, I did find the Worlds Best Chocolate Cake and it was actually the BEST!

The kid’s school year ended with one finishing kindergarten and one finishing 2nd grade.

They are now on summer break and bored to tears. They ask me for a snack every five minutes and pick a fight with each other every ten.

We got a new rabbit that looks a lot like an Ewok. Her name is Gracie.

Much to my surprise, the man-eating dog got along fabulously with the dog-sitting-man during our trip to Spain.

Our old yellow lab is still holding on, although DH reminds me everyday he won’t make it much longer. Course, he’s been saying this for a few years now so I don’t really listen.

I allowed my hairdresser to add many, MANY more blond streaks to my hair in an attempt to jolt DH and get his undivided attention. I called and told him I’d gone blond. When he got home he said, “It’s not really blond.” That was the end of that conversation…

The best conversation I’ve had in a while was with my best friend’s FIL (Father In Law). They came over to my house for lunch while they were in town visiting. We were sitting in my living room chatting when he looked at me intently and said, “You look so familiar.”

Me: “I think I have a familiar face, people tell me that all the time.”

FIL: “Well I watch that show on HBO called the Bunny Ranch.”

Me: “Huh?”

FIL: “Did you ever work in Vegas?”

It took me about 30 seconds to realize he just asked me if I’d ever worked as a prostitute in Vegas. I smiled, as MIL stuttered, “NO! She looks like Jill Taylor.”

FIL: “Who the hell is Jill Taylor?”

MIL: “You remember Tim the Tool Man’s wife?”

This is the reason you don’t invite anyone else’s in-laws to your house… ever.

Other than that, it’s been pretty quiet around here. DH and I will be celebrating 10 years in Aug. I am also looking forward to both my kids being in school full time. DH will be working from home now, which leads to lots of fun phone conversations to the basement. I will be sure to keep you apprised.

Boot Scootin' FABOOSH!

I have been sitting at my computer today for hours looking over all the fabulous pictures from the weekend. They are just so fun!

Smarty Pants and I decided when we first took on the big BOOT SCOOTIN’ BOOGIE fundraiser for our school, that aside from doing our best to make money, we also wanted people to have fun.

I think we accomplished that!!!

First off, we hired DJ Jazzy Jeff, which was the BEST idea ever. I know I don’t do this much in the blog, but I’m actually going to use his real name because if you’re looking for a great DJ, he’s the guy to pick. RockCandy Professional DJ’s, Adam Krolicki.

I handed Adam a 6-page script ten minutes before the event began and he worked it all out beautifully. He was fun during all the raffles and played GREAT music that people really wanted to dance to…and to add icing to the DJ cake… he’s a great dancer!!

He took Smarty Pants and me out for a spin. He whirled, twirled and threw us around the dance floor. I seriously forgot how much I love to dance! It was FABOOSH! (that’s my new favorite word) He was seriously the best choice we made through the whole planning business.

We have been getting comments from so many people and the one thing they all tell us is how much fun they had! I’m so happy about that. At first I really thought the only thing that would matter at the end was how much money we made. We did make TONS of money … but the more our friends and the teachers and staff at the school tell us how much fun they had, the happier I feel.


So, I guess our kids will continue to learn, with schoolbooks and desks and chairs and all they deem necessary, and we helped the best way we could, but the BEST absolute BEST thing that came out of all of this is Smarty Pants!

Thanks for being a true friend! I love you!

Ran into God today

Went for a run this morning and for a second I thought I’d stepped through the magical wardrobe into a whole new world. We got a good foot or so of snow last night. This morning however the sun was shining so I decided to venture out. I told DH if it was too cold I’d only go around the block and come back.

I picked my clothing carefully… running pants and top covered by a LES sweatshirt, warm ear covering and bright PINK gloves. The pink makes me feel happy.

I headed out listing to my iPod play Diva, “I’m a, I’m a, I’m a, a diva. A Diva is a female version of a hustler…” It starts me out… well… in the right mood…

I turned the corner from our street out to the main road and that’s when it happened, the entire world turned into a fabulous, magical portrait. I was running down the black top, which was met, on either side, by a perfect white blanket of snow that sparkled in the sunlight. The trees lined on both sides of the street are pine trees and the green of their needles looked vastly different with the contrast of the white snow, which lay delicately on each branch. The colors were startling and incredible.

Just as I was trying to take in this perfect picture that is my home, the wind blew ever so slightly and glitter flew down from the trees dusting me gently with snowflakes. I looked up to notice the perfect blue of the sky peeking out from the forest green branches of the trees…

Smoking COW!!

Um… necessary side bar… my daughter came up with Smoking Cow when she was two. Apparently, I say Holy Smokes or Holy Cow a lot when I’m talking. So one day we went to visit my grandma who lives on the eight floor of her building. When we stepped off the elevator, my daughter looked out the window and exclaimed, “Smoking Cow we’re up high!” It has become my favorite expression of wonder and awe…

Needless to say, I ran the whole four miles. When I got to our big open field and turned the corner to be completely surrounded by mountains with the vast open space, a perfect shining carpet of white for miles, I thought about God. I could have been sitting in a church today, listening to a sermon about morality or the rules or path to enlightenment, but I have to tell you… nothing would have made me feel closer, nothing could have been more real to me than what I experienced in the ONLY church, I know for a fact God created.

Miles and Miles of Lavender

Fabulous week… really FABULOUS, it’s was Spring Break for the kids so my sister and I took them all on a car trip to the Grand Canyon. 2360 miles round trip! First day, we went to Albuquerque, my dad lives there, and stayed two nights with our family.

Just so you know, if you stop at a weigh station on the side of the road, they really won’t weigh you…even if you explain to them you’ve been on a diet and working really hard to lose weight, they still won’t, regulations…you need to be a truck, blah blah blah. Then we left for Flagstaff, AZ.

When my sister and I do car trips it’s much better if there are no men present, especially men with a PLAN. Little boys don’t really count, we are raising them to be free thinkers and GO with the FLOW! Which is, by the way, what we named my phones GPS… FLOis.

We like to see the sights on the side of the road… two headed cow, we’re there… giant crater, OH YEAH!! Petrified National Forest, who wants to miss that?

FLOis was terribly entertaining as we ventured off course at every available opportunity.
FLOis- “Recalculating route… you are not on a marked road… make a u-turn at the next possible place.” Sorry FLOis, taking the unmarked path is ALWAYS the best way to see the world.

So, we saw the Grand Canyon, the meteor crater, the Petrified National Forest, and the Out of Africa Safari in the middle of NOWHERE, AZ! But the best place of all… Sedona, Az. The Metaphysical Capitol of the WORLD!

I have INCREDIBLE news!! I am NOT Autistic, nor do I have Asperger’s disease as my darling great Auntie diagnosed me after reading the March 18th Blog… Nope, no diseases or afflictions.

I AM A LAVENDER!!!

Sister and I had our Auras read. They take you into a little room and have you look into a camera. Then you place your left hand on a sensor pad and it takes your picture. Ten minutes later you have a 22 page Aura Chakra Report.

My main Aura Color, which reflects my personality type and traits is Lavender. Lavenders are imaginative, mystical, fantastical, soft, fragile, sensitive, often spacey and ethereal.

Lavenders dislike being confronted with reality. They are creative thinkers. They need creative and artistic expressions to recharge their batteries. They are unpredictable, spontaneous, need solitude and are not always practical. They only have a few close friends and need visionary people who can see the potential in their ideas.

Lavenders are fun to be around but can be somewhat scattered! They work the best in quiet environments and would be attracted to occupations such as storyteller, artist, writer, actor, dancer. Need I say more?? I am TOTALLY a lavender!

My chakras are all out of whack though… I have very low energy. I think this is two fold. One, I was on a 2000 mile driving trip with four kids… how much energy could I possibly have? And Dos, I haven’t recharged my battery with ANY type of artistic anything in a really long time.

My heart chakra, which corresponds to unconditional love, self-love and forgiveness is my smallest, weakest chakra. I’m not really surprised by this, lets just say I need to work on these areas.

I know the realists in this world (darling hubby) laugh at me when I talk about this stuff. All I can say is, they took a picture of me, and validated all of the feelings I have been having lately about myself. One of the sentences in the report says, "Some Lavenders may feel guilty or inadequate because of their unorthodox behavior." THERE WAS A FARMER, HAD A DOG AND BINGO WAS HIS NAME-O.

My Aura Chakra report tells anyone who wants to read it what to expect from me. It’s in my opinion DEAD ON! When I am running away from reality, sitting in my loft in imaginary worlds created by me, or seemingly drifting away from a conversation, there is a reason and it’s very simple…its who I am. Like it or not.

Oodles of Loodles!

So all pouty face poor me from yesterday aside, today was a fabulous day! Other than the fact that my little girl threw up in gym class... but that's a whole 'nother blog...

One of the things I do at my kid's school is set up assemblies. I am privileged to be able to pick which parts of their little brains to stimulate, or what experience to give them once a month, all year long! It's fabulous!!

There are four of us who help with this part of school we call Enrichment. Enriching their lives, giving them access to things they wouldn't normally get in the typical school day. So far this year we've had The Denver Zoo, The Denver Museum of Nature and Science, (who did an assembly on all the yucky things our bodies do!) The Fort Carson Singers for a Christmas performance, an incredible Veterans Day assembly, Irish Dance and TODAY??!!!

Mark Ludy! Children's author and illustrator. Here's his link, CLICK HERE, seriously... click it... you have to see it... go on! Mark has written these incredible books, like The Farmer and The Grump and his newest Jujo'. The stories themselves would be fascinating and interesting even without the illustrations, but the PICTURES?!! They are unbelievable!

Not only is Mark an author and illustrator, but he's a fantastic speaker as well. We started the morning off with a short talk to the teachers. Mark shared with us his motivational views on living with the thought of what's REALLY important in our daily lives. What are we giving back to the people around us, especially to the kids? When we die, what do we leave behind? What will people say we gave them?

He told us about his favorite teacher when he was a kid going to school at Lewis Palmer Elementary, how she gave him the love of a story. For the first time, he picked up a book and realized you could dive right in to the story and live a different reality as long as you had the book open. The book he first loved... Where the Red Fern Grows!

I connected so well with what he was saying, I remember all of my favorite books, Judy Blume, Beverly Cleary. I still love every opportunity to read myself into a new reality, pick up a new story... and it's something I've really wanted to give my kids.

But, as so many things, my oldest was not willing to take it from me. He needed his teacher, the MOST FABULOUS second grade teacher in the world, to give him the love of stories. Now my kid comes home nearly every week, so excited to tell me what new book Mr. S. is reading to him. His best days? ~the one's Mr. S reads for an extra long time!!

They just finished reading, "How to Eat Fried Worms," and when he came home yesterday, this is what I got,

"Mom, I really REALLY need (best friend's name goes here) to come over tonight."

"Why?" Boy looks down, sheepish grin crosses his face. I'm on to him! I know he's up to something.

"We made a bet."

"What kind of bet?"

"He bet me, he could eat 30 worms."

"Gross! Why would he do that?"

"Cuz if he does it, I have to pay him $100!"

"You don't even have $100."

"Yes, I do. I saved my allowance."

The funny thing here is, he really has saved $100. Normally, it's like pulling teeth for him to spend any of his own money. There's no way he can part with any of it. But apparently, for an eight year old boy, seeing your best friend ingest 30 worms, TOTALLY worth $100!!

I emailed Fabulous Teacher and told him this story and his reply was, "I told them not to eat any worms... I guess books really do inspire!"

Yes, they do. And more than that, teachers inspire and authors inspire, and hopefully in some subconscious way that 8 year old boys don't actually have to admit... parents inspire. I knew I would enjoy my day today. Nothing is more fun for me than to see little minds excited about new ideas... but I actually came away with even more than I had imagined. I came home remembering to focus on what's important, and to be mindful of what I am "giving" to my kids and all the other people I encounter.

Thank you, Mark Ludy for giving me such a GREAT day, and by the way... I'm scheduling a mental health day, to take a trip to Loodles... anyone want to come with me??

Solitary Confined Cheerleader

Spring Break can not come too soon! I'm tired. Seriously, to the bone, tired. Tired of listening. Tired of talking. Tired of trying to make people happy. Tired of working things out. Tired of being positive. TIRED!!

I miss my alone in the loft writing with a bottle of wine by my side, ME. The girl who loses herself in a sentence for two hours until she sees the bus stopping in front of the house dropping off the kids. The girl who waits two hours when she really, really, REALLY, has to pee because she can't pull herself away from the click click click of her own typing. The girl who sits in the silence.

Writing is truly the part of me, I like the best. I miss all of it.

I haven't even tried to write any of the ongoing projects. I need to reread everything I've written before I can even begin, and by the time I'm done with reading, my time is up... I need to be able to dive in, head first, remember the stories, meet the characters again. I just don't have the time right now.

My son just finished his basketball season. It was eight weeks. I didn't even try to meet any of the other parents. I went to the games and cheered him on and then left. No time or desire to meet or care about anyone new. BIG SECRET -- I didn't even bring snacks, not once... nothing.

My little girl is starting soccer. The good news is, I already know all the parents. I know them, but do they know me?? Do they know, I'm not really listening when they talk about their vacations, about their jobs, their spouse trouble? I can't really help myself. My mind is too full of other things.

I actually find it odd when people can be involved in trivial conversations.

"So, how's the dog training coming?"

"OH, not so good. Benji peed on the carpet nine times yesterday!"

"You poor thing!"

"The vet thinks he may have a bladder infection."

I tuned out at Dog Training.

I often wonder, if my present personality were evaluated what the diagnosis would be, not ADD or ADHD, I'm not OCD (well, maybe a little). Honestly, I think other than down right RUDE, I might be considered somewhat Autistic. Autism by definition means: a developmental disorder marked by impaired social interactions, communication difficulties.

I have learned to cope. I can play the game. But really, I live too much in my own head. In my Happy Place. Somewhere, where I don't have to be social or gracious or polite, where I don't have to engage in idol chatter, somewhere deep in my imagination where no one cares what I say or do or expects anything from me.

Pretty shocking admission from a former Cheerleader, isn't it.

Goiters and Girl Scout Cookies

I just found out I have a FREE day!! There isn’t one single thing I HAVE to do today. It was planned differently, Smarty Pants and I had plans to do Boot design on the front entry display case at the school, but plans change.

Smarty Pants is sick, she has a goiter… um… lymph node, swollen in her neck. Her exact words were, “It looks like I swallowed an egg!” I can’t wait to hear the phone call when she reads this!


SP “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you write about my goiter?”

ME “Can’t help myself… it’s funny.”

SP “Would it be funny if it was your goiter?”

ME “Absolutely not.”


If this were DH (darling hubby) with a swollen lymph node in his neck, the world would stop rotating. That’s what happens when he’s sick. SERIOUSLY, the world stops rotating! It stays the same time of day for 48 hours. No one works or goes to school. Everyone must pay attention to the sick guy. Smarty Pants still has a full day of activities including dance for her daughter and lunch with a friend. You GO GIRL!!!

I on the other hand have nothing to do… I can’t even remember what this feels like. Now don’t get me wrong. There are grocery store needs, and laundry piles, and dust accumulating around the house, but none of this really affects anyone but ME!

So what do I do on a day when I can choose anything I want to do?

I started out on a walk with Cujo. He tried to eat the neighbor. I hollered at the neighbor as he ran away screaming, “We have a new trainer, we’re trying REALLY HARD!!” He didn’t seem to care.

I came home and did my new “Crunchless Abs” DVD. When I was finished, I felt like nothing much had happened, so I did “Abs of Steel” too. Now my stomach hurts and I feel like I could throw up.

I read all my favorite blogs and decided to write one of my own… that’s what I’m doing now… duh…

Next, I think I’ll either take inventory of the Girl Scout cookies still in my house, or I’ll spend a couple hours wasting time on FaceBook. Maybe, I’ll do BOTH!

I like days like this… I think I’ll be pretty happy today as soon as my Abs stop cramping. Hey Smarty Pants, Hope you feel better SOON!!! :)

Trickery and Blackmail

Whose idea was it for me to chair the Boot?? Oh yeah! Smarty Pants is to blame!

Had a tough fundraising day when we realized our binder for what we've spent on this little shindig is as fat as a toad, and the binder which makes us money... well there's one little, lonely piece of paper in it, which I actually think is more of a guideline on how to utilize the binder system than any actual donated item!

It's time to bring out the big guns. I am not above blackmail. Those interesting pictures I have of you from one of the Smarty Pants, Slippers parties... yep... we're gonna auction those off! Did you at one time tell me in confidence some little story you planned on me taking to my grave? Well GET ME A DONATION or I'm gonna TELL!

I hate to be like this. Really, I do. I prefer the much softer and kinder Slippers, but difficult times call for drastic measures. I'm having nightmares!

Serious, scary nightmares where I actually have a JOB! One that I hate and have to come in to every morning at 8:00AM. One where I have to sit through BOARD meetings, smiling and nodding and gritting my teeth. One where the mundane, idiotic, red tape paperwork piles higher and higher and higher in my cramped, crappy, cubicle with no windows! Nightmares where I come home from a long day and sit my ever enlarging ass on the sofa to watch THE BACHELOR of all awful things!!!

ARRGGHHH!!! I can't take it! Please make a donation to your favorite school. Put me back in my fabulous, artistic, writers happy place! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! See not even afraid to beg!

Frank Sent This

I spent the day reading a fabulous book, The Middle Place by Kelly Corrigan. I loved it. It made me really consider my childhood and more importantly, my kids.

Then I was listening to a speech given by Sir Ken Robinson, who is considered a “Creativity Expert”. I want that title. I wonder how you get it…

His speech, which can be found here, is 20 minutes but seriously interesting and entertaining. If you have the time, check it out. His theory, about our educational system, is about how schools kill our children’s creativity.

He tells a story about a boy in The Nativity play at school and how the kings entered the room. The first one said, “I bring you gold,” the second spoke out of turn and said “I bring you myrrh” and the third spoke up and said, “Frank sent this.” Its funny but his point was that little kids don’t really worry about being wrong. They take a stab at it.

He says, kids all start out creative, willing to take a chance at being wrong and by the time they are adults we’ve taken that willingness away. He says, “If you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original.”

“We’ve been educated to be good workers, rather than creative thinkers.”

I don’t want this for my kids. I know I am guilty of it myself. I think reading and writing are the most important. I want my kids to be exceptional readers and writers. What if they’re just not? Are they not as valuable as basketball players or dancers? What if they want to paint, or act?

Kelly Corrigan’s book struck me because her father made her feel like she was the most special person in every situation. She recognized as an adult it was his gift to do that with every person he met, but for a child, that really doesn’t matter. The only person she saw or cared about was herself. He instilled self-confidence and empowerment in her by never letting her be wrong.

I want my kids to take chances… I want to take chances. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard to see the greatness when they’ve taken a Sharpie to my white board and drawn all over it, or the chair in the bathroom, or the wall (I really should take the Sharpies and hide them). But what different people they might become, if everything they do is an attempt at some kind of greatness instead of just another childhood, punishable mistake…

Man Down!

Have you ever had one of those nights where every person you meet is so interesting they should be a character in a movie or book? No?… me neither, until Saturday night.

My girl Smarty Pants invited me to go out on the town with her BFF for the last 25 years and another gal they’ve been friends with for a long time. We’ll call her Shots, and I’ll tell you why a little later.

We had tickets to the Denver Center Performance of “Girls Only” a comedy show that includes singing, dancing, improv, little movie clips and other downright hilarious skits. When we arrived at the theatre we did what came naturally, and bellied up to the bar for a cocktail.

As we were imbibing we noticed a group of gals who clearly drew all the attention in the room. Gal #1, we’ll call her Pinkie, was dressed in a bright and shiny pink plastic bag that was cut down to her navel and rode up her thigh nearly showing the “happy landing” to the entire room. She had on matching pink gloves and shoes to complete the ensemble.

At first we all assumed she and her friends, who were equally noticeable, must be in the show. They all had on very interesting outfits which really should be referred to as costumes. Turns out, Pinkie’s getting married and all of her dress up friends joined her for a night out on the town to celebrate. It leads my mind to consider what in the world her wedding dress will look like. Too bad, I’ll never get to know.

After the hilarious show we hit the Denver bar scene. At the first bar we met up with a couple of guys who were more than happy to give us the bar tour around town. One of our new friends was leaving on a trip Monday to travel abroad for two months. His plan was to stay in Hostels and see as much of the world as he could.

As he was telling us this, I heard a gasp from one of the girls followed by an incredulous, “Have you gotten all your shots?” A moment passed and then we all burst out laughing. Our cover was blown. Yep, we really are just a bunch of mom’s who will no doubt worry about the health and well being of world travelers… Thus earning her the name “Shots” from here on out. (not what you were thinking, huh?)

After several more bars, dancing to some GREAT music, and watching as three policemen tried to get a vagrant off the street, we decided it was time to go for breakfast. It was 2am!! How time flies…

We left the last bar and headed out looking for a cab. As we were walking, Shots and BFF tripped and fell in the street. I immediately started yelling to Smarty Pants, “MAN DOWN! WE’VE GOT A MAN DOWN.” Smarty Pants was laughing so hard she nearly peed her pants. I’m seriously glad that didn’t happen, cuz she might have ruined her fabulous leopard skin shoes…

We got everyone back on their feet and found ourselves in a very interesting diner! The first thing I noticed was the bathroom doors were locked with a code…interesting…

After waiting a little bit we were finally seated in a booth right by the door. About two seconds later, a fascinating little man approached us. He was wearing jean overalls with a Tennessee T on the pocket and a red shirt. His belly can only be described as a perfectly round little sphere. He came up to our table in all his glory and addressed Smarty Pants in a very flamboyant and southern accent, “Girl, you should not be sitting in that outfit! That’s just too beautiful for sitting.”

“My God look at you girls,” pointing at each of us… “ Divine, Divine, Divine- can I borrow a cell phone.” I couldn’t help myself I had to laugh. He came back to the table a couple of times to entertain us with his exuberance and then as suddenly as he came, he disappeared.

We left the restaurant around 3:30AM! Smarty Pant’s Mama told her, “Nothin’ good happens after 1AM,” but in this case she was wrong. We hailed ourselves a cab and were ready to go settle in for the night…but not before the cabdriver gave us a serious talking to. He was white haired, with glasses and had a twinkle in his eye as he started in, “What the hell are you girls doing in that dump?”

“Huh?… uh…” was the response from all four of us.

“That was probably the worst place you could have ever gone. VAGRANTS eat in there.” I wondered how the vagrants paid for their food. “Did you notice the locks on the bathrooms?… so they can’t go in there and shoot up! Don’t you ever go in there, again. If I had picked you up, I would have taken you to a nice place. There’s a real nice place right by your hotel.”

He continued to malign us all the way back to the hotel. Okay, so our choice of diner wasn’t the best… we still had a FABULOUS time. We laughed all night long, and at 11:00 the next day as we tried to rouse ourselves to leave the hotel, we laughed about it all again. There is no place more fascinating to meet people than Denver!

If anyone reading this has had the thought, “These four ladies have no business wondering around Downtown Denver until the wee hours of the morning…” let me just direct you to this little link to make you feel a little better.