I sit here in the wee hours of the morning thinking about my dogs. Yep, you heard me right, my dogs.
My handsome spouse and I have two canines... one old and one almost middle-aged (at least in dog years). The old one, Baron, is a lab/pitbull mix. He's buff in color (considered yellow on the days he does something wrong and gold on the days he doesn't) with a graying muzzle, cloudy eyes and arthritic hips. The middle-aged one, Delilah, is a full bred Beagle. She's tri-color with perky ears, bright brown eyes, a wagging tail and a snout that could lead her to Wyoming in a heart-beat if she ever got out of the yard unnoticed. Both our fuzzy children are equally important, equally loved and a part of our wonderful family.
However... Our darling Baron, who will turn fifteen on July 5th, has become a bit of work. He currently has better drugs than either my husband or I put together; all in the name of helping his arthritic joints do things they can't any more. He has a hard time walking, let alone going down our steps to enter the backyard to do his business. Many times, our children will yell from the yard, doorway, livingroom, diningroom etc that the dog has fallen and needs help. In zooms either myself or my husband and we pick up the dog's rear, depositing him, once again, on his feet only to watch as he hobbles off to do what it is he wanted to do; wondering if we should go back to what we were doing or follow him... in case he falls again.
My point, if there is one, in all this banter is that no one ever knows when it's 'that time'. 'That time' meaning the point at which a pet owner has to make the decision of whether their beloved family member is suffering and needs to be euthanized. I had to make a decision, such as this one, with our cat Tiberius in the Fall of '07. It wasn't a pretty situation and it was a bit more cut and dried than the one I am describing above. The poor kitty wasn't eating and was beyond help (as our vet so kindly put it). So, I made the call to put kitty out of his misery. I told the kids of my decision through tears and grit teeth and watched as, later on that evening, the vet put my cat to sleep in my arms. It was one of the hardest things I had ever had to do. Until my mom. I also had to make a similar decision (this time with my father by my side) when my mom began to lose her battle with Stage IV breast cancer in May of '08. Now, I know you're thinking... "How the hell can you compare your dog to your mom?!" Of course mom is more important and the decision was more involved, but it was still relatively the same.
However, is my dog any less loved than my mother? No.
What also complicates the matter is my husband and Baron are attached. They are attached emotionally as any dog and human can get. My husband grunts and woofs to the dog as they sit on the couch with one another and Baron grunts and woofs back. I watch as Lincoln cleans up after the dog, patting him on the head when he's done; takes the dog outside to sit in the yard while he works in the garage; hoists his rear end up, once more, when he's fallen; and lovingly calls him a golden dog (even when he's really been more yellow).
When is it 'that time' for my fifteen year old dog? I don't really know the answer. But, I do know that when it comes, I'll do my best to be there for my family, especially my husband. In the meantime, I'll hoist, pick up and clean.
I mean, dogs are family too.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Friday, July 04, 2008
How Hard Can it Be... Being a Mom?
How hard can it be... being a mom?
A very interesting question, and one that I asked myself over and over and over and OVER again when I was younger. My mom did it. Her mom did it. Her mom did it. And, you guessed it, HER mom did it. So, I asked myself as I looked at the little pink double line on the pregnancy test almost 10 years ago, "How are can it be... being a mom?"
Well...
Of course, no one COULD tell me it would be this hard. No one COULD explain the rules.
Then again, no one could imagine how much love I have for my children each and every day they're around.
They're my babies.
A very interesting question, and one that I asked myself over and over and over and OVER again when I was younger. My mom did it. Her mom did it. Her mom did it. And, you guessed it, HER mom did it. So, I asked myself as I looked at the little pink double line on the pregnancy test almost 10 years ago, "How are can it be... being a mom?"
Well...
- It's hard to be a mom when you have no instructions. I mean, let's face it. You go to the hospital, you get to experience an enormous amount of pain, they keep you two days to make sure you aren't going to die and then the hospital staff sends you home with a newborn. YOUR newborn. Good gracious people! What are you thinking?
- It's hard to be a mom when you HAVE instructions. 'What to Expect When Your Expecting', 'The First 12 Months', 'The Toddler Years'... Ok, I don't need BOOKS people, I need HELP! H - E - L - P !
- It's hard to be a mom when the first word your child says is, "Da da." WHAT!? *Goes back to birth scenario in bullet #1*
- It's hard to be a mom when your child walks for the first time. We've all been there. Well, just about all of us. Your child takes that first step and TA DA; they're mobile. Yep. Mobile. Nothing like the Fear of God hitting you right then and there.
- It's hard to be a mom when they're sick. Whining, coughing, wheezing, sneezing, sniffling, gagging, hurling, sweating, crying, writhing and aching kind of sick. I'll bet I've been thrown up on more than you have.
- It's hard to be a mom when they're bored. "Mommy, I'm bored." "I know." "But, I'm BORED." "I know." "But...." *sigh* "Wanna go for ice cream?"
- It's hard when the go to school for the first time. I was a mess. Yep, a mess. Here was my little Anthony with a back pack bigger than he was, heading off to school with the 'big kids'. My heart was in my throat and my stomach was churning. And guess what? Brendan? Same feelings. Sophia? She's heading to Kindergarten in the fall. *I think I may hurl.*
- It's hard to be a mom when your kids ride their bikes to a friends house, ALONE, for the first time. "Call me when you get there." "Right." "Remember, don't talk to strangers." "Right." "What happens if a stranger talks to you?" "Don't talk to them." "What else?" *pause* "Keep riding?" "Right. What if he/she follows you?" "Keep riding... only faster?" "Right. What if --" "Never mind, Mom, I think I'll stay home."
- It's hard to be a mom when your daughter paints her toenails... with a sharpie. *Sigh. Need I say more?*
Of course, no one COULD tell me it would be this hard. No one COULD explain the rules.
Then again, no one could imagine how much love I have for my children each and every day they're around.
They're my babies.
Monday, July 02, 2007
MAD AS HELL AND NO ONE TO BITCH TO
How's THAT for a title?! Can you tell it's been one of those evenings where everything that you wanted to go right just.... didn't?
Wanted to spend more time with the kids before they went to bed... didn't.
Wanted to do more laundry and get caught up... didn't.
Wanted to clean the kitchen... didn't.
Wanted to go to the IKEA store... didn't.
Wanted to go to Meijer's... didn't.
Wanted to pick up the living room... didn't.
Wanted to clean out the truck and vacuum... didn't.
Wanted (well, HAD) to clean out the cat box... didn't.
Wanted to clean up after dinner... didn't.
Wanted to take out the garbage... didn't.
Wanted to be in a better mood... won't.
Wanted to want to... don't.
Wanted to be told it will all be better in the morning... wasn't.
Wanted to bitch to a live person... can't.
Wanted to have a good day... didn't.
So, now that I've filled up the screen with, "Woe is me, I gotta poopy diaper" attitude I'll say good-bye and good night in hopes that tomorrow will be better than today.
Wanted to spend more time with the kids before they went to bed... didn't.
Wanted to do more laundry and get caught up... didn't.
Wanted to clean the kitchen... didn't.
Wanted to go to the IKEA store... didn't.
Wanted to go to Meijer's... didn't.
Wanted to pick up the living room... didn't.
Wanted to clean out the truck and vacuum... didn't.
Wanted (well, HAD) to clean out the cat box... didn't.
Wanted to clean up after dinner... didn't.
Wanted to take out the garbage... didn't.
Wanted to be in a better mood... won't.
Wanted to want to... don't.
Wanted to be told it will all be better in the morning... wasn't.
Wanted to bitch to a live person... can't.
Wanted to have a good day... didn't.
So, now that I've filled up the screen with, "Woe is me, I gotta poopy diaper" attitude I'll say good-bye and good night in hopes that tomorrow will be better than today.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
We Are Family
So, here we are (from left to right) Lincoln, Brendan, Anthony, Me and Sophia.The picture was taken at our church's 100th anniversary luncheon in early June.
Ten Ways to Give Your Cat A Nervous Breakdown
10. Remove all clothing from flat surfaces so that they have to sleep in their cat bed.
9. Yell, "Here Kitty, Kitty!" while standing next to the tub as it's filling full of water.
8. Buy a rottweiller.
7. Let six four year olds in the house and tell them the cat loves to play.
6. Apply collar and leash to their neck and yell, "Sit Ooboo, Sit!"
5. Tape a dog barking and replay it on a taperecorder in the house.
4. Buy a laser pointer and let the cat chase the red 'dot' on the floor.
3. Leave open boxes and paperbags all over your house.
2. Buy babydoll dress up clothes and give them to your four year old daughter.
1. Accidentally shut your cat in the dryer and turn it to the fluff cycle.
9. Yell, "Here Kitty, Kitty!" while standing next to the tub as it's filling full of water.
8. Buy a rottweiller.
7. Let six four year olds in the house and tell them the cat loves to play.
6. Apply collar and leash to their neck and yell, "Sit Ooboo, Sit!"
5. Tape a dog barking and replay it on a taperecorder in the house.
4. Buy a laser pointer and let the cat chase the red 'dot' on the floor.
3. Leave open boxes and paperbags all over your house.
2. Buy babydoll dress up clothes and give them to your four year old daughter.
1. Accidentally shut your cat in the dryer and turn it to the fluff cycle.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Muscle Relaxers and a Mother of Three
Now, you're probably saying, "Now THERE'S an interesting title." Or, your at least thinking that the muscle relaxer part sounds like fun.
Muscle relaxers are what my doctor prescribed the other day when I went in to have several things checked out. First, my cholesterol. TOTALLY unrelated to the muscle relaxers but on the list none the less. Second, check to see if there are any lipids (what the heck is a lipid) or some other such arthritic tags in my blood. (I've been having problems with the joints in my hands and shoulders.) Third, check on why I can't get to sleep and why I keep waking up with headaches.
Muscle relaxers. And this is why I paid $15 in a copay. I could get the same affect with a glass of red wine each night and have more fun.
Muscle relaxers are what my doctor prescribed the other day when I went in to have several things checked out. First, my cholesterol. TOTALLY unrelated to the muscle relaxers but on the list none the less. Second, check to see if there are any lipids (what the heck is a lipid) or some other such arthritic tags in my blood. (I've been having problems with the joints in my hands and shoulders.) Third, check on why I can't get to sleep and why I keep waking up with headaches.
Muscle relaxers. And this is why I paid $15 in a copay. I could get the same affect with a glass of red wine each night and have more fun.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Can You Cheat On Your Dog?
I took a drive over to Ryan and Tom's house tonight. They're getting ready for a yard sale tomorrow and I've finally relinquished my hold on my kids baby clothes long enough to sell them to someone else. So, I dropped off four boxes and two garbage bags of clothes and a six-foot long table to their house around 9:00pm.
Now, Ryan and Tom have this black lab named Compo. He's a drooling, panting, crotch-sniffing ball of tail-wagging fur. You can't help but notice him while you're at the house and he won't leave you alone until he's wiped drool and hair all over your clean clothes. It's like being molested by a really short man in a black fur coat. The problem is when I got home... my beagle, Delilah, was sniffing the hell out of me and giving me this look like, "How COULD you?"
It had just then occurred to me, "Can you cheat on your dog?" I mean, I didn't WANT to cheat on my dog. This other dog just came to me and started molesting me. Does that count? It was unwanted attention from another canine.
I feel so dirty.
Now, Ryan and Tom have this black lab named Compo. He's a drooling, panting, crotch-sniffing ball of tail-wagging fur. You can't help but notice him while you're at the house and he won't leave you alone until he's wiped drool and hair all over your clean clothes. It's like being molested by a really short man in a black fur coat. The problem is when I got home... my beagle, Delilah, was sniffing the hell out of me and giving me this look like, "How COULD you?"
It had just then occurred to me, "Can you cheat on your dog?" I mean, I didn't WANT to cheat on my dog. This other dog just came to me and started molesting me. Does that count? It was unwanted attention from another canine.
I feel so dirty.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Second Shelf From the Top... WAAAAAYYYY In the Back
Ok... so these were my words, slowly said at least three times, to my eight year old after he inquired on whether we had any microwave popcorn.
First time... "Mommy? Do we have any popcorn?" My response: "Yes, second shelf from the top, way in the back."
(He looks on the first shelf under the top cupboard.)
Second time... "SECOND shelf, way in the back, Anthony."
(He looks on the second shelf from the bottom.)
Third time... "S-e-c-o-n-d s-h-e-l-f from the TOP, waaaaayyyy in the back, honey."
His response after finally locating said popcorn, "Oh, thanks."
First time... "Mommy? Do we have any popcorn?" My response: "Yes, second shelf from the top, way in the back."
(He looks on the first shelf under the top cupboard.)
Second time... "SECOND shelf, way in the back, Anthony."
(He looks on the second shelf from the bottom.)
Third time... "S-e-c-o-n-d s-h-e-l-f from the TOP, waaaaayyyy in the back, honey."
His response after finally locating said popcorn, "Oh, thanks."
"Why?" you ask in a disinterested voice as you yawn over this entry.
Well, our pantry in done in a weird fashion and one never knows whether the top cupboard is the first shelf or not... (easier to show someone than explain.). AT ANY RATE... (now I'm bored)....
The popcorn is on the second shelf from the top of the second cupboard, waaaaaaay in the back.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Hitchhiker's Thumb
Sooooo.... I shut my thumb in my neighbor's screen door.
Ouch!
Yep, I had my hand in the door frame of the front door and the wind caught the door and WHAM! the tip of my thumb got peeled right back! It hurt like... like... like the tip of my thumb got peeled back. *sigh*
One trip to St. Joseph Mercy's emergency room later and the following happened:
1. Got to read yesterday's front page of the Oakland Press.
2. Met up with Kyle Cameron, a friend of ours (he stood up in our wedding) that we haven't seen in 12 years. He is now working at St. Joseph's as a Medical Technician.
3. Got a tetanus shot. *frowns*
4. Soaked my thumb in Betadine *frowns more because of the stinging feeling*
5. Got thumb bandaged.
6. Won sympathy from my 18, 8, 7 and 4 year old kids.
7. Took two tylenol to ease the throbbing in my thumb.
8. Looks forward to the throbbing in my arm (where I got the tetanus shot) in the morning.
Guess I won't be doing any hardcore gardening for a while.
Moral of the Story: Keep your thumb out of places it doesn't belong.
Ouch!
Yep, I had my hand in the door frame of the front door and the wind caught the door and WHAM! the tip of my thumb got peeled right back! It hurt like... like... like the tip of my thumb got peeled back. *sigh*
One trip to St. Joseph Mercy's emergency room later and the following happened:
1. Got to read yesterday's front page of the Oakland Press.
2. Met up with Kyle Cameron, a friend of ours (he stood up in our wedding) that we haven't seen in 12 years. He is now working at St. Joseph's as a Medical Technician.
3. Got a tetanus shot. *frowns*
4. Soaked my thumb in Betadine *frowns more because of the stinging feeling*
5. Got thumb bandaged.
6. Won sympathy from my 18, 8, 7 and 4 year old kids.
7. Took two tylenol to ease the throbbing in my thumb.
8. Looks forward to the throbbing in my arm (where I got the tetanus shot) in the morning.
Guess I won't be doing any hardcore gardening for a while.
Moral of the Story: Keep your thumb out of places it doesn't belong.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
FOX cancels DRIVE
And... here I thought we had a hit.
Is it just me or are the execs at FOX totally missing the point of people watching TV? I watch for enjoyment and a chance at seeing my favorite actors or actresses do what they do best. I watch because my real life doesn't always meet my expectations and I need a bit of a boost. I watch because I can.
How can someone say that a show is a dud when they haven't even given the damn thing a chance?!
All the more reason to boycott the crappy TV network (FOX if you haven't already guessed) unless Mr. Fillion comes out with another show the network wants to cancel.
I tell ya... I've HAD it with these nimrods that don't know good TV from a flippin' hole in the ground.
Damn those execs, damn those folks who don't watch DRIVE, damn, damn, damn....
Is it just me or are the execs at FOX totally missing the point of people watching TV? I watch for enjoyment and a chance at seeing my favorite actors or actresses do what they do best. I watch because my real life doesn't always meet my expectations and I need a bit of a boost. I watch because I can.
How can someone say that a show is a dud when they haven't even given the damn thing a chance?!
All the more reason to boycott the crappy TV network (FOX if you haven't already guessed) unless Mr. Fillion comes out with another show the network wants to cancel.
I tell ya... I've HAD it with these nimrods that don't know good TV from a flippin' hole in the ground.
Damn those execs, damn those folks who don't watch DRIVE, damn, damn, damn....
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Here I Go Thinking Again...
So, I'm thinking....
That's usually my first mistake. Thinking that I can think without a license. Thinking gets folks like me in trouble. We plan things, weigh things over, initiate ideas and pretend we're cool and all the while we wreak havoc on the world and leave terror in our wake.
See... it's thinking about thinking that's got me into this mess.
That's usually my first mistake. Thinking that I can think without a license. Thinking gets folks like me in trouble. We plan things, weigh things over, initiate ideas and pretend we're cool and all the while we wreak havoc on the world and leave terror in our wake.
See... it's thinking about thinking that's got me into this mess.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Top Ten Uses for Green Bean Casserole
10. Use as part of neighbor kids' club initiation. Tell prospective club members it's ground squirrel.
9. Use as paste for building toothpick houses
8. Use for practical jokes. Spoon healthy amount of beans into paper lunch sack. Set on enemy's porch, light bag, ring doorbell... RUN!
7. Makes great grout when re-tiling bathroom floor. (Note: Make sure bathroom decor matches green shade of beans.)
6. Serves as excellent dog food in a pinch.
5. Use as wallpaper stripper. Consistency makes application easy.
4. Great way to keep children quiet during Thanksgiving Dinner. Lips stick together because of the cream of mushroom soup.
3. Acts as a substitute for playdough, and it's easier to get out of carpets.
2. Keeps grandma busy during the holidays and out of the casinos.
1. Use as alternative to green, acidsplit when filming 'Slither 2'.
9. Use as paste for building toothpick houses
8. Use for practical jokes. Spoon healthy amount of beans into paper lunch sack. Set on enemy's porch, light bag, ring doorbell... RUN!
7. Makes great grout when re-tiling bathroom floor. (Note: Make sure bathroom decor matches green shade of beans.)
6. Serves as excellent dog food in a pinch.
5. Use as wallpaper stripper. Consistency makes application easy.
4. Great way to keep children quiet during Thanksgiving Dinner. Lips stick together because of the cream of mushroom soup.
3. Acts as a substitute for playdough, and it's easier to get out of carpets.
2. Keeps grandma busy during the holidays and out of the casinos.
1. Use as alternative to green, acidsplit when filming 'Slither 2'.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
Ok, today is the day where everyone (in the US at least) is allowed to dress up as someone or something different and act crazy, obtain free candy and scare the begeezes out of little kids without fear of reprisal.
I, personally, opted for the non-scarey costume of a Renaissance Wench this morning in my 1st grader's classroom. This past Sunday evening and Monday morning I was a happy pumpkin.
My boys decided on Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. My daughter fascillated from ballerina, to fairy, to princess, to dragon, to Barbie and, finally, back to dragon again. *It's a woman's right to change her mind... even if it DOES make her mother gray in the process*
My husband decided to dress up as a dad (how original). Our exchange student decided on a teenager with a broken leg (what is UP with the older men in the family?).
Trick or Treating starts at 6pm at my parents house, ends there at 7pm and picks up again at my in-laws. It's an all-evening event that will tire everyone out and result in TONS of candy that will send the family into a sugar high that will last until Christmas!
So... at this point... I go with the flow and think orange until tomorrow morning wakes us and November begins full throttle.
Pictures soon to follow....
Ok, today is the day where everyone (in the US at least) is allowed to dress up as someone or something different and act crazy, obtain free candy and scare the begeezes out of little kids without fear of reprisal.
I, personally, opted for the non-scarey costume of a Renaissance Wench this morning in my 1st grader's classroom. This past Sunday evening and Monday morning I was a happy pumpkin.
My boys decided on Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. My daughter fascillated from ballerina, to fairy, to princess, to dragon, to Barbie and, finally, back to dragon again. *It's a woman's right to change her mind... even if it DOES make her mother gray in the process*
My husband decided to dress up as a dad (how original). Our exchange student decided on a teenager with a broken leg (what is UP with the older men in the family?).
Trick or Treating starts at 6pm at my parents house, ends there at 7pm and picks up again at my in-laws. It's an all-evening event that will tire everyone out and result in TONS of candy that will send the family into a sugar high that will last until Christmas!
So... at this point... I go with the flow and think orange until tomorrow morning wakes us and November begins full throttle.
Pictures soon to follow....
Sunday, October 15, 2006
It's SUNDAY... Anyone see monkeys near me?
So... it's Sunday. SUNDAY. And, once again I haven't TOUCHED my homework for my Spanish class.
"So?" you say.
Sooooooo, I have an exam tomorrow over the next chapter; sixty some verbs to conjugate, a bucket-load of vocabulary words and sentence structure to remember and I HAVEN'T STUDIED! Now, normally, having already received a Bachelor of Science degree several years prior to this I would say, "Bleh," and move on. But, THIS class I want to pass with flying colors.
But, it's SUNDAY! *sigh*
Of course, today we're headed out to lunch with my parents, then out to the Franklin Cider Mill with Ryan, Tom, Ryan's mom and her two exchange students (see Ryan's blog, appropriately entitled http://rantingsofanewzealandwannabe.blogspot.com) and then dinner with said group somewhere around 6'ish. Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE doing things with them and I'm the one who invited everyone down for dinner. So, that really isn't the issue.
The issue is that it's SUNDAY, for Christmas sake and I have a mountain of homework the size of Mexico! (Had to put that in there for Santos' sake.)
Okay... focus, focus, focus.
Maybe this will all work out in the end. Maybe I'll have time to get things done. Maybe I can do my lab work tomorrow morning while everyone is in school. Maybe I'll get time to study at school before the test. Maybe I'll do REALLY well on the test and this post will all be for naught...
... And maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt.
"So?" you say.
Sooooooo, I have an exam tomorrow over the next chapter; sixty some verbs to conjugate, a bucket-load of vocabulary words and sentence structure to remember and I HAVEN'T STUDIED! Now, normally, having already received a Bachelor of Science degree several years prior to this I would say, "Bleh," and move on. But, THIS class I want to pass with flying colors.
But, it's SUNDAY! *sigh*
Of course, today we're headed out to lunch with my parents, then out to the Franklin Cider Mill with Ryan, Tom, Ryan's mom and her two exchange students (see Ryan's blog, appropriately entitled http://rantingsofanewzealandwannabe.blogspot.com) and then dinner with said group somewhere around 6'ish. Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE doing things with them and I'm the one who invited everyone down for dinner. So, that really isn't the issue.
The issue is that it's SUNDAY, for Christmas sake and I have a mountain of homework the size of Mexico! (Had to put that in there for Santos' sake.)
Okay... focus, focus, focus.
Maybe this will all work out in the end. Maybe I'll have time to get things done. Maybe I can do my lab work tomorrow morning while everyone is in school. Maybe I'll get time to study at school before the test. Maybe I'll do REALLY well on the test and this post will all be for naught...
... And maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Your Brain is a Terrible Thing to Lose
So... they say your mind is the first thing to go. Apparently, my mind has already left and found some other unsuspecting human to reside in leaving me entirely on my own... literally.
Another birthday party that one of my sons were supposed to attend slipped my mind again today. The mom, bless her heart, called me on my cell and asked where Anthony was. *phew* Luckily Kroger is only a mile and a half from Zap Zone where the party was being held for several fiesty 8 year old boys.
Last week, it was the 'birthday party of the year' that Brendan missed. His friend Ben had invited him and it totally slipped my mind. *sigh* Brendan will need years of therapy at 29 to get over THAT one.
What's next? My anniversary? My OWN birthday? Do I need more Ginko Biloba in my life? Less stress? More help? SEVERAL calendars that flash neon in my house and in the truck? WHAT will help me remember?
I can't seem to recall.
Another birthday party that one of my sons were supposed to attend slipped my mind again today. The mom, bless her heart, called me on my cell and asked where Anthony was. *phew* Luckily Kroger is only a mile and a half from Zap Zone where the party was being held for several fiesty 8 year old boys.
Last week, it was the 'birthday party of the year' that Brendan missed. His friend Ben had invited him and it totally slipped my mind. *sigh* Brendan will need years of therapy at 29 to get over THAT one.
What's next? My anniversary? My OWN birthday? Do I need more Ginko Biloba in my life? Less stress? More help? SEVERAL calendars that flash neon in my house and in the truck? WHAT will help me remember?
I can't seem to recall.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Holy Orthopedists, Batman!
So, most of September was a blur. Somewhere between my usual routine of taking my kids to school and practices, fixing dinner, scheduling doctors appointments and studying for my Spanish class my husband managed to break his right arm and my 'exchange' son, Santos, managed to break his lower left leg.
Now, I KNOW you're thinking, "What the...?" or "Huh?" or "So?" However, for those who would like the details, please see below.
Ok, first the husband. For sake of space, he was riding his bicycle (mountain bike) one evening around 8:30pm downtown and got cut off by a car as he was about to cross the street. He locked up the front breaks, flipped over the handlebars and came down squarely on both hands; he broke the radius bone in his right arm and jammed the wrist and elbow of the other arm.
Second, Santos. HE was tackled playing football for his highschool JV team and got his leg broke. *sigh* Welcome to the 'American experience' and our medical system. Needless to say, he's ok but in a cast for the next 6 to 8 weeks. *Guess we'll have to turn those crutches into skis.*
At any rate, my life is about as complicated as I can take. I love my family, biological and not, but I need a frickin' break. Anyone got any ideas?
Now, I KNOW you're thinking, "What the...?" or "Huh?" or "So?" However, for those who would like the details, please see below.
Ok, first the husband. For sake of space, he was riding his bicycle (mountain bike) one evening around 8:30pm downtown and got cut off by a car as he was about to cross the street. He locked up the front breaks, flipped over the handlebars and came down squarely on both hands; he broke the radius bone in his right arm and jammed the wrist and elbow of the other arm.
Second, Santos. HE was tackled playing football for his highschool JV team and got his leg broke. *sigh* Welcome to the 'American experience' and our medical system. Needless to say, he's ok but in a cast for the next 6 to 8 weeks. *Guess we'll have to turn those crutches into skis.*
At any rate, my life is about as complicated as I can take. I love my family, biological and not, but I need a frickin' break. Anyone got any ideas?
Monday, September 11, 2006
9/11 and Sherry Ann Bordeaux
Today is a day that many will not soon forget.
I was still working full time on September 11, 2001 and in the middle of my daily commute to Troy, MI. I had the radio on, flipping channels as I usually do. This day, I happened to decide on the local talk radio station. What I heard as I pulled in the parking lot of my seven story office building shocked me.
The World Trade Center had been hit by not one, but two airplanes... two commercial airliners packed with travelers of all races, creeds, colors, ages and beliefs. The World Trade Center buildings... 110 floors each, filled to the brim with people starting their day were burning. Two gaping holes were visible mid-way up and smoke was pouring from each. My heart sank.
I no sooner got into the office when my husband called me and asked if I heard the news.
"Yes, Honey... I have," I said.
"Nancy... there were people on those planes... in those buildings," he whispered, barely able to speak.
"I know, Honey... I know," I replied in the same whisper. I didn't know what to say. I didn't really know what to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SHERRY ANN BORDEAUX was born and raised in Jersey City, New Jersey. She was a member of the honor society and the basketball and bowling teams in high school. Her sister, Cynthia Lewis remembers her as someone who never missed a day of school. "She was a straight-A student." After highschool, Sherry graduated from St. Peter's College in Jersey City and began working as an accountant for Fiduciary Trust. She was in her office on the 90th floor of Tower Two when the second hijacked passenger jet hit the floors below. She had left a phone message after the first jet hit the other tower.
"She called us at 8:48 and said, 'There's been an explosion, I'll call you later,'" Lewis said. "We were home and watching it on TV. We just didn't hear the phone."
Sherry shared a house with her mother, brother, sister and nephews in Jersey City, New Jersey. These days the house is emptier. She is no longer around to make special dishes that she learned from watching "Emeril Live" on the Food Network, or to take her nephews - Marquise Lewis, 10, and Justin Lewis, 3 - out to dinner or the movies.
Now they only have memories of her.
After reading bits of information on Sherry I imagine she was vivacious woman with hopes and dreams just like everyone else in the world. Her family adored her... cherished her. They cling to memories of a summer reunion in 2001 where siblings and cousins and countless other extended family members went to Fayettville, N.C., in July and spent a week together.
I never met Sherry, although I believe I would have liked her from the moment we met. I'll never know her personally... never get the chance. But, what I DO know is that she'll be missed by many. She'll be missed by the world and this world will be a lesser place because Sherry wasn't around to make it just that much brighter. She was only 38 years old.
Today, I ask those that might have known Sherry to post here, on my blog, anything you knew about Sherry. Let those around the world know what a wonderful person was taken from us. Have her memory live on in script for a bit longer.
May all those who were killed on this day five years ago be remembered, celebrated and held in high esteem. God Bless them all.
I was still working full time on September 11, 2001 and in the middle of my daily commute to Troy, MI. I had the radio on, flipping channels as I usually do. This day, I happened to decide on the local talk radio station. What I heard as I pulled in the parking lot of my seven story office building shocked me.
The World Trade Center had been hit by not one, but two airplanes... two commercial airliners packed with travelers of all races, creeds, colors, ages and beliefs. The World Trade Center buildings... 110 floors each, filled to the brim with people starting their day were burning. Two gaping holes were visible mid-way up and smoke was pouring from each. My heart sank.
I no sooner got into the office when my husband called me and asked if I heard the news.
"Yes, Honey... I have," I said.
"Nancy... there were people on those planes... in those buildings," he whispered, barely able to speak.
"I know, Honey... I know," I replied in the same whisper. I didn't know what to say. I didn't really know what to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SHERRY ANN BORDEAUX was born and raised in Jersey City, New Jersey. She was a member of the honor society and the basketball and bowling teams in high school. Her sister, Cynthia Lewis remembers her as someone who never missed a day of school. "She was a straight-A student." After highschool, Sherry graduated from St. Peter's College in Jersey City and began working as an accountant for Fiduciary Trust. She was in her office on the 90th floor of Tower Two when the second hijacked passenger jet hit the floors below. She had left a phone message after the first jet hit the other tower.
"She called us at 8:48 and said, 'There's been an explosion, I'll call you later,'" Lewis said. "We were home and watching it on TV. We just didn't hear the phone."
Sherry shared a house with her mother, brother, sister and nephews in Jersey City, New Jersey. These days the house is emptier. She is no longer around to make special dishes that she learned from watching "Emeril Live" on the Food Network, or to take her nephews - Marquise Lewis, 10, and Justin Lewis, 3 - out to dinner or the movies.
Now they only have memories of her.
After reading bits of information on Sherry I imagine she was vivacious woman with hopes and dreams just like everyone else in the world. Her family adored her... cherished her. They cling to memories of a summer reunion in 2001 where siblings and cousins and countless other extended family members went to Fayettville, N.C., in July and spent a week together.
I never met Sherry, although I believe I would have liked her from the moment we met. I'll never know her personally... never get the chance. But, what I DO know is that she'll be missed by many. She'll be missed by the world and this world will be a lesser place because Sherry wasn't around to make it just that much brighter. She was only 38 years old.
Today, I ask those that might have known Sherry to post here, on my blog, anything you knew about Sherry. Let those around the world know what a wonderful person was taken from us. Have her memory live on in script for a bit longer.
May all those who were killed on this day five years ago be remembered, celebrated and held in high esteem. God Bless them all.
Monday, September 04, 2006
And the Teachers ARE....
Ms. Ingoglia for my 3rd grader and Ms. Grunewald for my 1st grader.
The wait has ended...
... Let the learning begin!
The wait has ended...
... Let the learning begin!
Things That Make You Go.... Hmmmmmm
Ok... so... Arts, Beats and Eats.
For those of you who live in the Detroit Metropolitan area, "Arts, Beats and Eats" doesn't mean some curbside painter wacking people with a stick while eating a corndog. It actually means an honest to goodness 'good time in downtown Pontiac' (if that can actually be had) eating, drinking, buying and riding carnival rides. AB&E (as I will call it henceforth) was our outting for today with the kids (yes, you CAN take kids there).
It's an annual outting, actually. Every Labor Day weekend Linc and I take the kids to AB&E and spend an enormous amount of money eating, riding and buying glow-in-the-dark sticks for the kids. Every year the kids whine because they can't go on anymore rides, their tired, their hungry or they just want to see their parents pull their hair out among 10,000 people in a cramped three-block radius. Every year we either sweat, freeze or get rained on. Every year we go back because we think we know what we did wrong THIS year. *sigh* It's like a study on Pavlov's dog.
However, I must say that THIS year things went mighty well. The weather was cool and breezy and we had enough money to keep the kids satisfied without us going broke in the process. Ah, commercialism. Anyway, by 4pm the kids were beat and getting hungry. Linc stayed downtown to watch some concerts and I came home with the kids, cooked dinner and generally 'hung out' until bedtime.
Now... during that 'hanging out' period....
Did I ever tell you that I'm a closet Star Trek Junkie? *sigh* Probably not. I don't know too many 40-Mother-of-three-closet-star-trek-junkies out there. We're few and far between not to mention embarrassed that we actually know who Jonathan Archer is and can't wait until Paramount Pictures produces another flippin' ST movie (there are 10 you know).
At any rate, my husband (a 33 year old ST junkie) and I run a Star Trek play by email game (now, I KNOW you're thinking... "Did she HAVE to go here?") called Liberty Fleet. The game is fun primarily because I can write a character that is totally unlike myself and lose myself in fantasy land without ending up in an mental institution. The problem, is that in running the game you end up spending a great deal of time working on promoting, editing, and playing the game for FREE. Yes, I said FREE... I do not get paid for my editing of writing submissions (posts), my counseling sessions with young writers who have NO clue where to begin and those few and far between (you KNOW who you are) who can't spell worth a POOP when they write more than three words in a row. However, I enjoy reading the entries to our crazy storylines and sometimes wish that I could actually BE the captain that I write (might be a little hard though, considering I write a man).
HOWEVER, this new storyline, an 'alternate timeline' kind of deal (something from the future gets left in the past so it changes everyones future kinda thing) is bringing out the looneys! Pure evil, I'm telling you! I can't believe some of the stuff that I'm reading... it's bizarre. Torture, killing, maming, sex (rape, bisexuality) and don't forget just plain ole anger.
*SHEESH*
People, people, people. Let's think about this SHALL we? I mean, such angry folk are running around with laptops in hand. *shakes head* It amazes even I. Who knew that such folk walked the earth taking their kindergardeners to school each morning and fixing meatloaf for dinner. Now, to tell the truth that's a bit harsh... a lot of our writers are college age kids that love Star Trek (ST) and love to write stories. I doubt that most even know what meatloaf is, let alone know how to fix it for dinner.
All in all today was a success. Tomorrow is Labor Day which means an annual trip to my in-laws for dinner and visiting. This year it also means that our exchange student has football practice (someone should give that coach a piece of my mind) from 5pm to whenever. *sigh* I'm hoping that whoever thought a practice on Labor Day was necessary, will be locked up by the Labor Day police and the key thrown away.
... things that make you go, hmmmmmm.
For those of you who live in the Detroit Metropolitan area, "Arts, Beats and Eats" doesn't mean some curbside painter wacking people with a stick while eating a corndog. It actually means an honest to goodness 'good time in downtown Pontiac' (if that can actually be had) eating, drinking, buying and riding carnival rides. AB&E (as I will call it henceforth) was our outting for today with the kids (yes, you CAN take kids there).
It's an annual outting, actually. Every Labor Day weekend Linc and I take the kids to AB&E and spend an enormous amount of money eating, riding and buying glow-in-the-dark sticks for the kids. Every year the kids whine because they can't go on anymore rides, their tired, their hungry or they just want to see their parents pull their hair out among 10,000 people in a cramped three-block radius. Every year we either sweat, freeze or get rained on. Every year we go back because we think we know what we did wrong THIS year. *sigh* It's like a study on Pavlov's dog.
However, I must say that THIS year things went mighty well. The weather was cool and breezy and we had enough money to keep the kids satisfied without us going broke in the process. Ah, commercialism. Anyway, by 4pm the kids were beat and getting hungry. Linc stayed downtown to watch some concerts and I came home with the kids, cooked dinner and generally 'hung out' until bedtime.
Now... during that 'hanging out' period....
Did I ever tell you that I'm a closet Star Trek Junkie? *sigh* Probably not. I don't know too many 40-Mother-of-three-closet-star-trek-junkies out there. We're few and far between not to mention embarrassed that we actually know who Jonathan Archer is and can't wait until Paramount Pictures produces another flippin' ST movie (there are 10 you know).
At any rate, my husband (a 33 year old ST junkie) and I run a Star Trek play by email game (now, I KNOW you're thinking... "Did she HAVE to go here?") called Liberty Fleet. The game is fun primarily because I can write a character that is totally unlike myself and lose myself in fantasy land without ending up in an mental institution. The problem, is that in running the game you end up spending a great deal of time working on promoting, editing, and playing the game for FREE. Yes, I said FREE... I do not get paid for my editing of writing submissions (posts), my counseling sessions with young writers who have NO clue where to begin and those few and far between (you KNOW who you are) who can't spell worth a POOP when they write more than three words in a row. However, I enjoy reading the entries to our crazy storylines and sometimes wish that I could actually BE the captain that I write (might be a little hard though, considering I write a man).
HOWEVER, this new storyline, an 'alternate timeline' kind of deal (something from the future gets left in the past so it changes everyones future kinda thing) is bringing out the looneys! Pure evil, I'm telling you! I can't believe some of the stuff that I'm reading... it's bizarre. Torture, killing, maming, sex (rape, bisexuality) and don't forget just plain ole anger.
*SHEESH*
People, people, people. Let's think about this SHALL we? I mean, such angry folk are running around with laptops in hand. *shakes head* It amazes even I. Who knew that such folk walked the earth taking their kindergardeners to school each morning and fixing meatloaf for dinner. Now, to tell the truth that's a bit harsh... a lot of our writers are college age kids that love Star Trek (ST) and love to write stories. I doubt that most even know what meatloaf is, let alone know how to fix it for dinner.
All in all today was a success. Tomorrow is Labor Day which means an annual trip to my in-laws for dinner and visiting. This year it also means that our exchange student has football practice (someone should give that coach a piece of my mind) from 5pm to whenever. *sigh* I'm hoping that whoever thought a practice on Labor Day was necessary, will be locked up by the Labor Day police and the key thrown away.
... things that make you go, hmmmmmm.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Mommy.... Who Is My Teacher?
Okay... so, I've been asked this question by my 3rd grader and 1st grader every day for the past week now. They wait by the mailbox like little vultures... hoping that letters from their new teachers for this year will drop out and smack them on the face like little fly swatters.
Have the letters come? NO
WHEN does school start? TUESDAY
WHAT is TODAY? WEDNESDAY before TUESDAY
When I asked their elementary school's secretary at the Welcome Back Meeting for employees of the district -- it's nice to be a parent AND an employee -- when the letters were coming she promptly replied that they would be mailed tomorrow. I politely asked if I could find out over the phone early and she even MORE politely told me absolutely not.
NOTE: So, does the security of the nation depend on the information about my kids' teachers for this year? Will terrorists swoop down on my school district if the names are given out over the phone early? I mean, COME ON!!!
So, I think to myself....
TOMORROW!? Are they farking MAD? The THURSDAY before TUESDAY they are sending out letters containing the most important answer to the most important question for BOTH of my children at this time in their little lives?
I ask again... Are they farking MAD??????
*sigh*
Ok... so, now I have to explain that the letters will probably come either Friday or Saturday. My 6 year old will say, "What if they don't?" And I'll answer, "Then we go to school on Tuesday and ask someone." And he'll say, "I'm not going to school unless I know who my teacher is. I mean, HOW will I KNOW what room I'm in? HOW will I KNOW who's in my class?" and the questions will continue until the dye-job that I spent $94 on at the salon is completely gone and my eyes are crossed permanently. At that point my 8 year old will sigh and say something like, "Well, I have a one in three chance that I'll get Mrs. Ellison." and then nothing else will come out of his mouth until Tuesday.
And, I'll think...
... Can we go back to June 17th? Life was much easy then....
Have the letters come? NO
WHEN does school start? TUESDAY
WHAT is TODAY? WEDNESDAY before TUESDAY
When I asked their elementary school's secretary at the Welcome Back Meeting for employees of the district -- it's nice to be a parent AND an employee -- when the letters were coming she promptly replied that they would be mailed tomorrow. I politely asked if I could find out over the phone early and she even MORE politely told me absolutely not.
NOTE: So, does the security of the nation depend on the information about my kids' teachers for this year? Will terrorists swoop down on my school district if the names are given out over the phone early? I mean, COME ON!!!
So, I think to myself....
TOMORROW!? Are they farking MAD? The THURSDAY before TUESDAY they are sending out letters containing the most important answer to the most important question for BOTH of my children at this time in their little lives?
I ask again... Are they farking MAD??????
*sigh*
Ok... so, now I have to explain that the letters will probably come either Friday or Saturday. My 6 year old will say, "What if they don't?" And I'll answer, "Then we go to school on Tuesday and ask someone." And he'll say, "I'm not going to school unless I know who my teacher is. I mean, HOW will I KNOW what room I'm in? HOW will I KNOW who's in my class?" and the questions will continue until the dye-job that I spent $94 on at the salon is completely gone and my eyes are crossed permanently. At that point my 8 year old will sigh and say something like, "Well, I have a one in three chance that I'll get Mrs. Ellison." and then nothing else will come out of his mouth until Tuesday.
And, I'll think...
... Can we go back to June 17th? Life was much easy then....
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