examining the pieces

What I'm feeling, I cannot write about.  I cannot write about it because I cannot even let my brain form words for it.  It's beyond language.

 

A Million Little Pieces by James Frey puts words to the unspeakable reality of addiction.

 

The addict in my life has been sober for 14 months.  It's time to examine the pieces that fell around us during the 5 years before that.

 

I feel shattered all over again.  And I welcome it.

5 year old has love affair with playdoh, June wedding planned

"I will love him and hug him and squeeze him and name him George"

 

3 year old boy grows mammoth moustache

 

Blizzard!!!

I don't know, enough to make a snow fort? What do you think? 

Thanks - and good news!

Thank you, everyone, for your words of concern and compassion yesterday.  The post about my grandfather was something that I needed to write for myself - it just happened that I wrote it here and you all read it.  I appreciate your comments and thanks so much for reaching out to me both here on this blog as well as through personal email.

 

I heard from my father last night and, to my surprise and joy, apparently no one is expecting my grandfather to go anywhere soon.  In fact, they are only half joking when they are making comments about him finding another girlfriend and living for another 20 years.  I guess hearing about his plans for death as well as the unexpected nature of the disease led me to believe that things were getting much worse much faster than they actually are.

 

I hope to visit him soon.  I hope to find him willing to talk.  Maybe I can bribe him with some pie.

Vernon

My grandfather is 80 years old.  He's over 6 feet tall, has a love affair with coveralls, and has a laugh that you could identify from miles away.  Grandpa can still get my father's attention with a simple whistle - and my Dad, who's heard the whistle for 60 years, knows that it's his father, and no one else, whistling.  My grandfather tells jokes and drinks coffee and can turn a pile of wood into art.  He likes pie.  He likes music.   He likes Westerns.  My grandfather's name is Vernon.  He is dying.

 

Grandpa and I live in the same state, just a couple of hours apart from each other, but I can think of maybe 3 instances in the last 10 years when I've seen him.  He called me once a couple of years ago and we talked about gambling and food and my kids.  We exchange holiday cards every year.  That's about it, though.  I've not made a huge effort to keep in contact with him, but neither has he.  That's kind of the way this family works.  Somehow knowing is enough - there needs to be no big show of it all.

 

A couple of months ago, he was diagnosed with Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma, which is the most common type of blood cancer, and which feeds off of stress and a compromised immune system.  My grandfather is chronically depressed, in poor physical health.  What can be a very curable disease is taking him -and taking him fast.  His time is limited, we believe, although you never know.  He's completed his first round of Chemo and has recently moved out of state to be closer to his daughter and son who can care for him.  Today I learned that he wants to be cremated.  It sounds so final.  So soon.

 

I remember being a little girl and holding my grandfather's hand as we walked through World's of Fun.  I remember traveling to visit family and seeing the truck stop just off the interstate that let us know that we were going to see Grandpa.  He drove a truck for years and then worked on them for years more.  Because of him, I love mashed potatoes.  Because of him, I learned that a frizzy haired woman in her 60's with too much make up and Aquanet can serve the best piece of apple pie around (sincerely, try a truck stop for dessert - you'll not regret it.)

 

I love my grandfather.  I wish I knew more.  I wonder if I'll have time.  Every day, my heart breaks a little bit more.  Every day, I cry a few more tears.

 

My grandfather's name is Vernon.  He is dying.
 

Okay, Okay, here it is!

See, here I'm looking like a 40 year old.



And here's me laughing in relief that I am not.

Holiday Hullabaloo

Thanksgiving is over which means it's now time for Christmas.  Or Hanukkah.  Or Kwanzaa.  Or "Happy Non Denominational Celebration" as old friend of mine used to say.

 

In years past, I waited until Christmas was right on top of us to do anything holiday-ish.  Those were the days before the boys.  Now, especially now, we dive head first into the holidays - with little kiddos, you cannot help but do that.  They force you to do it, much like they force each other to eat dirt, stick earthworms up their noses, and play "Name that Toot," (much like Name That Tune, but no one sings ... sigh, yeah, they're boys.) So today we made the paper Christmas chains (taking off one link each day until Christmas.)  We watched the first holiday movie of the season ( Sponge Bob Squarepants Christmas Special, thank you very much,) drank hot chocolate, and are getting ready to make popcorn balls which I will eat all by myself after the boys have gone to bed.  Shhh!
 

Christmas means creativity to me, for a number of reasons.  I've always wanted gifts to be special and well thought out.  There is almost nothing that disgusts me more than people just randomly throwing money across the counter after having grabbed something that "Aunt Martha will like and if not, oh well, it's something, eh?"  Gifts are not about the money, the brand name, or how early you had to get up on Black Friday and bitch slap all the other folks away from the coveted blue Ferbie.  I want it to be personal.  I want it to mean something.  I want the thought more than anything (because, let me honest, you don't have to water, feed, insure, or dust thoughts.)  Also, my husband and I decided very early on in our relationship how we wanted to raise a family and what was important to us (no day care, attachment parenting, homeschooling.)  We decided that we would do this at all cost, and have successfully done it.  The cost being that we have a very modest income and with careful planning and budgeting and eliminating a lot of wants (but not needs,) we live a fairly nice life on surprisingly little money.  I'll not deny that we do get a very handsome bonus from B's boss, and that does help some, but for the most part, holidays have come to be the "let's see what amazing things we can make and give or buy with little resources and still be able to show our faces come February when we go hunting for babysitters for our anniversary" show.

 

This year, folks are coming up roses.  This year, we have a business that is all about creating one of a kind gifts for folks.  It's all about creating for one's unique personality.  It's delightful.  It's wonderful.  And people really like it.  And, to be honest, most folks are going to get things that have a retail value of about 5 times what I would normally spend on their gifts. To top it all off, most everyone has already asked for something from Kohleidoscope.  Sweet.

 

Today, almost everyone I know is buying stuff, dealing with crowds, and getting into fist fights with parking lot bullies.  Not me.  Nope.  Today, I'm drinking tea, listening to cows Moo in the holidays, and knitting like a fiend.  The lists have been made with regards to who gets hats, who gets scarves, who gets handbags, who gets soaps, who gets jewelry, who gets frames, and which few get things with bar codes.  Sunday, the tree goes up and, for the first time ever, we're putting lights on the house (be sure to donate to B's emergency room fund.)

 

Soon, family and friends will start making their way back to my area.  My brother will be in from a neighboring state, my father and his wife will be in from a few states East of here.  VJ comes in from CA, Jill comes in from Ireland, Meghan from KC (maybe, I'm guessing - speak up!,) CTodd from Denver.  New Year's Eve will be the best I've had in years - there is a cocktail party planned for all of us old buddies to get together and compare sagging body parts and creaking joints.  We'll laugh and hug and thank all our higher powers that we somehow survived our youth.  I'm sure at one point or another, we'll find a tree that is staring at us and barrel down a hill, through the snow, to get it.  There will be some Janis, some Jimi, a whole lot of The Band.  I don't remember being so excited about the end of a year - well, not since my high school and college years, anyhow.

 

I'm not waiting anymore.  I'm diving in.  I'm welcoming the holidays.  After all, I'm already laden with gifts - what's a few more?

 

 

Gratitude

Listing them, folks, probably more for myself than anyone. I'm sure I'll miss some.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

• My strong healthy body that carries my where I want to go and allows me to do what I want to do.
• My heart that aches for all those in pain, leaps for joy with all those celebrating, dances in love, and hopes for the future.
• My mind that is rusted open.
• My spirit that is beyond my body, heart, and mind.
• My husband who is the perfect extension of my being, and I am the perfect extension of his.
• Our marriage, which is based on honesty, trust, openness, faith, humor, compassion, and love.
• Our children who walk on clouds and sprinkle magic wherever they go
• My family members who have humored me for nearly 30 years.
• My in-laws who took a chance on the weirdo and have loved me for 7 years and counting.
• My friends to whom I owe more than words can convey.
• My house that shelters me and my loved ones, keeps us warm and together.
• My art which gives me outlet for my creativity and keeps me sane
• My ability to stay at home with my children and educate, rather than school, them
• My career in birth - there are no words for how grateful I am to be a part of miracles on a daily basis.
• My freedom
• Food in my belly and clothes on my back
• Being 35 pounds lighter and healthier this year
• Sobriety
• Intelligence
• Passion - without it, there is no motivation. Without motivation, there is no growth.
• Forgiveness
• Pronoia
• Faith and hope
• Humor

And the list goes on...

The Best Gift

"Hey, Duck, are you a happy kid?"

 

"Yep, Mama, I sure am a happy kid!!"

 

"What makes you happiest, Duck?"

 

"Loving you, Mama.  Loving you."

 

New Olympic Sport - Stair bowling

Simple as can be.

 

1) Find old, cement, basement steps leading to your Mom's office

2) Set up cylindrical blocks on the bottom step in some sort of triangular arrangement

3) Climb to the top step

4) Hurl hard plastic bowling ball down the steps in attempt to knock down all the "pins" and get a strike

5) Laugh hysterically as your Mom pisses herself as a result of the surprising clamour

 

YOU'VE WON!
 

Credit where due

I mentioned that I have PMS.  Pretty much makes me the last person anyone would want to be around.  Except my husband.  He doesn't mind.  He brings me tea.  He rubs my back.  He tells me he'll try to come home early.  He tells me that I need to give myself a break - everyone gets crabby now and then.  He kisses my forehead, hugs me tight, and tells me that if he had a cramping uterus, he'd be a bitch, too.  You cannot ask for much more than that.

 

I write about B in this blog and give him a lot of crap, but truth be told, he's about the most amazing human being I've ever met.  Yes, it's true, he can be self centered at times, he's moody, he smokes too much, eats too little.  But sincerely, that's about all I can complain about.  He's kind, honest, dependable, and he has even begun doing dishes, laundry, and other things without being asked.  He doesn't complain too much when I leave the house at 3 in the morning and tell him to find childcare as I walk out the door.  He makes the meanest grilled cheese sandwich in town and he makes me laugh until I pee a little.  He's an inspiring father, an artist, a brilliant man.  I got one of the good ones and I'm blessed.

 

***

In my brief post about the breech home birth, I mentioned the Student Midwife.  What I didn't mention is that the Student Midwife was my very own DDFF.  I write about DDFF all the time.  She's one of my very best friends in the whole wide world, she was my doula mentor years ago, she helped me have a VBAC, and well, she's just awesome.  She's also a midwife.  Yes, yes, she will tell you that she is a student midwife (technically true,) but she has the hands of a midwife, the mind of a midwife, the heart of a midwife.  I've worked with her to bring many many babies into the world (I've lost count,) and I've seen her catch a few, and each and every time I'm filled with the feeling of "this is right."  She's got it going on and it is a sincere honor and pleasure to work with her.  She has informed me that, as of this week, I'm now in training to be her assistant.  I've hoped to be a midwife's assistant for a long time and this thrills me to no end.  What makes it even better, however, is knowing that I'll be assisting DDFF.  We always said we were going to take over the world.  I can see it happening. 

 

***

My Mom's husband recently shut down a business he was running with a corrupt partner.  As a result, they have used most of their savings to make ends meet.  She hasn't killed him yet and I believe that deserves a round of applause.  Way to go, Mom!!

 

***

Velma has spent 7 months traveling and being unemployed.  She did it largely by herself, driving thousands of miles, camping alone, crossing the boarder into Canada.  That's hardcore, VJ.  Oh, and yeah, I want a quilt!  COLORS, texture, bohemian, go nuts. 

Can't wait to see you soon - I miss you.

 

***

 

Everyone, if you deserve some credit, here it is:

 

HOORAY FOR YOU!  GOOD JOB EVERYONE!

 

Have a great day. I'm off to find some chocolate.

 

somebody shoot me already

I have PMS.  BAD PMS.  And I know it.  So, I'm irrational, emotional, demanding, contradictory - and I know it.

 

My poor kids. 

 

I'd say poor B, but I'm sure he's done something to deserve it in the first place.  :-)

 

 

um, California isn't so sunny

As a homeschooling family, we look for interesting ways to educate our kids.  Sincerely - we play "N, S, E, W leapfrog."  Anyway, one of the ways that we're teaching the kids about US geography is by ordering packets from each individual state, one at a time.  Now, some states are really great about this. Some will give you hidden links to resources that you might not find otherwise.  Some states, for example Texas, will send you an educators packet that talks about state history, geography, etc.  Most all of the states we've hit up thus far have been exemplary.

 

Not California.

 

Oh yeah, they have all kinds of online tours, all sorts of amazing websites and links to get you to know how to drive in CA, how to find a place to eat in CA, a million and twelve ways to spend all your money in CA, but nope, nothing about the history of CA, nothing for or about educating kids.  (In all fairness, there's a ton of great online learning tools, but you know, I'd rather my kids not sit and stare at a box for hours and hours.)

 

To be honest, it's not so much that the lack of resources that bother me.  It's the fact that they do have an option for ordering things for a student project, reference, you know, education - BUT when you click on the little dealy bopper that says you're requesting information for a student project, you immediately get taken away from the order form and to a 404 page.  Check it out.  Be sure to check the box for Student Project under the part about "I plan on using this information for." That is just plain ol' slimey.

   

So, while I love California and I love many people who live in California, they'll have to forgive me a little for being pissy. 

Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeet

Thanks, Mark for turning me onto this lovely little gem.  I'm passing it on with a lifted ball of yarn, a couple of knitting needles, and ask all of you, " You Knit What??"

 

From their disclaimer: "Look kids, we're ragging on nasty knits here, (And occasionally a model's obviously airbrushed 15 inch waist) because we ourselves are knitters, and we know that knitting a garment takes a LOT of time and effort, and it pisses us off that these people think we're going to waste our time on this crap.

"Seriously. It's not like we're attacking random knitbloggers, or anything, which we've considered, because damn, some of y'all have designed some seriously fugly shit. But, we're not overly fond of death-by-knitting-needle threats, so we decided against it.

"So, we're sticking to national publications/yarn company published patterns/online knitzines. If you're some random onlooker and you want to take shit personally, big fat boohoo to you because, one, you didn't design the fugknit in question so get over it, and two, don't you have some knitting to do?"
 

In case you missed it, click here.

Gotta have this

I love this. LOVE THIS. Wonderful kid + parent yoga. Purists, this will not replace your practice and mediation - it's geared towards kids and therefore has some jarring transitions, but it's so worth the hour it takes to do this. An hour of fun, easy paced yoga with your kids! Positions are explained in kid friendly terms with the benefits layed out clearly for parents. Lots of two person poses for parent and child - aids in balance and stretch. It's wonderful. It's silly. It's fun. It's healthy. It's a wonderful way to spend some time with your children, building your relationship, your mental health, your body. If you have kids, run, don't walk, and get it.

*You'll have to leave your stoic adult self at the door.* 

...and this

Amazing. Completely and totally amazing. Two discs that make you want to jump, dance, laugh, cry, love, get it on, and be grateful you have ears. (apparently, Amazon has it 20% off.) 

WHOA!

Occasionally, things happen that rock your world, and one of those things happened yesterday.  I'm not going to get into the details yet - I'm still kind of trying to pinch myself.

 

Little background - in our state, no one does breech (bottom first) vaginal births.  Breech =  cesarean.  Of course, there are options for flipping the baby and then being induced, but the success rate of that is really sketchy and often ends up in surgery, anyhow.  Breech risks someone out of a home birth.  It's just not done here.  In other parts of the world, and even in our own country, breech births are done successfully all the time.  Not here.  Not in a long long time.

 

Yesterday, I helped out with a home water birth.  Of a breech baby.  Yep.  No one knew that the baby was breech.  The way it was presenting it seemed vertex, even during an examination.  As the baby started "crowning," the student midwife said to me and the doctor, "Um, this is a butt."

 

WHOA!!

 

Again, no details, but baby girl is doing GREAT, mom is doing GREAT, and the doctor, student midwife, and myself shared the experience of our first, and possibly only, vaginal breech birth at home.

 

Birth works!

maybe baby?

Gotta client flirting around with labor. Hope she goes on and does it - today works so well for me.

Koan, I (Still) Do, and stinking our way to health

I found the following on a blog this morning.  Normally I would just link to the post, but I am actually going to just cut and paste it all here because, well, I wrote about the blog owner recently and want to leave him / her  his / her privacy.

 

Koan's are little parables passed down for centuries from one monk to another to illuminate a small teaching...koans typically have a moral, or a twist, or perhaps they are so illogical that in their absence of rational thought they force someone to abandon logic.

This one is called black nosed Buddha---
A nun who was searching for enlightenment carved a wooden Buddha and covered it in gold leaf. It was very pretty and she carried it everywhere she went.
Years passed and still carrying her Buddha she settled down in a small country temple where there were many statues each with its own shrine.
She burned incense in front of her own statue, and not wanting to share any of the perfume with the other statues, she devised a funnel that would direct the smoke toward her own. This blackened the nose of her Buddha and made it especially ugly

 

 

I love this.   This can be summed up in modern day college bar speak.

 

"Hey, Girl, love those boots.  Just love them.  Where did you get them?"

 

"Ummm, well, I got them from a cobbler in Venice last summer.  Yeah, um, they're one of a kind."

 

Of course, all the while, the girl got them BOGO at Payless.  I spent many years of my life "buying my boots in Venice."  I wanted to keep all the best stuff for myself.  Know what?  It's a pretty lonely existence.  We have to share what we have, folks, or else Karma is going to rough up our Buddha.

 

 

______

 

I had a dream last night that I was getting married to B.  I won't get into the details (they're a little twisted and I want some more clarity before I share them,) but I woke up this morning feeling like I had just said "I DO" again.  I realized that I would absolutely say, "I DO" again.  And again. And again.  Pretty nice way to start the day.

 

______

 

It's cold and flu season here.  Everyone in town is running around with a dripping nose and a cough and general nastiness.  First, let me just say that, if your kids are sick, *don't bring them to the library, don't bring them to play with my kids, stay home, get well, and let the rest of us stay well!!!*  Okay, got that out of my system.  Of course, I cannot control what other parents do with their families, but I can do everything possible to protect my own.  It's no secret that we don't vaccinate our kids, we don't take medication very often, we don't get the flu shot.  I'm not getting into the political, health, and moral reasons for this - not the point.  The point is that we have alternative ways of staying healthy.  We eat for health.  During cold and flu season, we eat a lot, and I mean A LOT of garlic and onions.  Currently, Stealth is eating hummus so garlic-y Vampires in Europe are closing the windows.  We eat broccoli several times a week for it's antioxidant and health promoting properties.  We're doing pretty well.  We've avoided the flu and full blown colds.  Of course, there are some slight sniffles around our house, but with the way we probably smell, who's complaining??

 

Transgendered fish

We got Duck a goldfish for his 4th birthday.  He's now 5 and a half, and this little goldfish (who's now huge) continues to live and thrive in his little tank.  We did get an aerator for the tank because we weren't in any hurry to explain a dead pet to our child.  As a result, "Nemo" has been a part of our family for awhile.

 

Until last week.

 

Last week, Duck called us all into the living room and announced that Nemo had left us.  We stared at the fish still swimming laps happily behind him and wondered where in the world Nemo had gone!  Had Duck dosed our dinners?  Were we all tripping?  Was the fish, indeed, gone?

 

Nope.  The fish was still there, but apparently, he was no longer Nemo.  He was now a She and her name was Dorothy.

 

After 18 months, Nemo finally came out of the closet and announced, to Duck, that he is switching teams.  Dorothy is the name chosen (actually from The Wizard of Oz, not the goldfish in Elmo's World,) and Dorothy it is.

 

Finally.  Another female in the house!!

  

the gasp heard 'round the world

came from me as I not only bought a flat iron this morning, but used it and loved it.

umm, never mind

Walk the Line comes out Friday.   Damn.

Dating for Seniors

Okay, so we're not dating anymore and we're not seniors - but when you're not in your early 20's and you have kids, a night without them kind of makes one ask another, "What the hell do we do now?"

I'm thinking I'm going to miserably shoot pool for awhile (oh man, it's Tuesday = Free pool and dollar bottles. Maybe I'll just sit by and watch the parade of Aquanet and Mullets,) while B hustles me out of his own money. Then dinner - I'm thinking Caesar salad with seared tuna? Salmon? Finally, a movie. I'm dying to see Walk the Line and think that B will most likely want to see it, too. Honestly, though, I think I'd be better off seeing that with DDFF. I mean, B is a great man and all, but even the best of men can only handle hearing their wife make comments under her breath for so long! (C'mon, Joaquin, I'll walk your line!) ZING!

Eh, who am I kidding? We'll probably get a frozen pizza, watch Earl, and be asleep on the couch by ten. Good enough.

(Oh, and for those of you who are checking this in the morning, this is not the interesting post I mentioned yesterday. Already posted that one. Keep reading.)

all grown up, giving thanks, things I love

You might recall that a former friend of mine has recently been arrested and extradited to Massachusetts for the murder of his wife. Honestly, I have next to nothing to say about it, but it has resulted in some interesting things - primarily hoards of folks coming out of the woodwork looking me up (I've been told that I'm 'everywhere' on google.) These folks come out to say, "Hey, you hear about James?," and along the way, the leave a trail of bread crumbs leading to other folks. Blog entries lead to links to other blogs which leads to areas on Friendster and Myspace. Needless to say, in the last 7 days, I've found a lot of folks I'd been wondering about and several folks I had forgotten entirely. I look at the blogs, at profiles, etc. It's fascinating. In fact, there is one that I have started looking at nearly daily.

I met D when I was 13 years old. He was this tiny guy (I mean TINY,) but he was funny, had a great face, and could dance. Everyone thought that he would be "hot" if he ever grew up - and grow up he did. Over a foot. Over a summer. When I was 21, I had my one and only one night stand with D (does it count as a one night stand if I had known him all those years?) Without going into too many details (Hi, Mom,) let me just say WOW. WOW. WOW. I've always wondered what happened to him. Now I know. He's still in the same town, he's married to a gorgeous woman, and he has 3 children, a mortgage, a car payment, and a blog. He's happy. And he's conservative. Who'd have guessed? Not me - nor the guy who repaired the broken shower door! ;-)

It's odd, looking at pictures of him and his beautiful family. I can still see the teenager in him - and he's certainly not a teenager anymore. A stranger would see him and comment on the man, but I still see the guy. He is friends with another guy I knew years ago and he, also, has a wife and children. They've grown up. We've all grown up. I see in their words and their pictures that we all have the same lives as each other. Oh sure, some have more money than others, some lean more to the right or the left, but all in all, we're all the same. I find that incredibly comforting. I find it unifying. I find it to be encouraging and it brings me peace. And, maybe someone out there has stumbled upon this blog or Kohleidoscope or my business website and say, "Hey, she turned out alright! We're the same!"

We're all the same, eh?

Thanksgiving is coming up. I've always found it absurd that we all choose one day to be thankful. Good grief, either you're a grateful person or you are not, right? I've spent a lot of years being not. Not grateful. And, therefore, not happy. In the last few months, I've been making a conscious effort to be actively grateful. What's actively grateful, you ask? Actively grateful is taking a moment (or several) every single day to comment about those things for which you are thankful, grateful, etc. I spent a lot of time with DDFF this weekend and she probably thinks I'm a wing nut (jump on in here, DDFF, I can take it) because I actually stopped in the middle of an aisle at Target on Saturday to say, aloud, how grateful I am that we both have amazingly wonderful, supportive husbands. I didn't say it to her. I didn't say it to the folks behind me asking me to get the hell out of the way. Nope. I said it, aloud, to the universe. And the universe has repaid me by allowing me to be married to a wonderfully supportive husband. This active gratitude has changed my life. Try it. You might be surprised.

Speaking of gratitude, I'm gonna list some things I love.

• Jazz. I love jazz. Spent the better part of the afternoon doing laundry and such and listening to Dave Brubeck. Don't be scared of jazz. Try it.
• My new cut.
• My amazing kids. I love them, they crack me up, they teach me daily.
• My husband - he's so talented it makes my head swim
• Hearing from MIL and FIL who ask to keep the boys over night in the middle of the week
• Long sleeved t-shirts
• My girlfriends (yes, Jason, this includes you.)
• Paid bills
• good food
• old friends with new ideas (new wine in old bottles, as they say.)
• popcorn with nutritional yeast
• art
• creativity
• the success of my friends
• crossword puzzles
• good coffee
• my pink slippers
• flannel sheets
• Lady Grey tea (ohh, thanks for that, DDFF)
• yoga
• the warm spot between my husband's shoulder blades - and the fact that he lets me put my cold nose there to warm it in the middle of the night .
• Swiffer Sweep + Vac - yes, it really is that good
• Venus Divine razors (good enough to get me shaving after 7 years)
• documentaries
• 3 c flour, 1/2 c salt, 2 packets of KoolAid, 2 c boiling water. Mix together, kneed. You've got yourself some instant, home made Play Doh.
• Dinner

Just a few. Tell me - for what are you grateful???

(gobble gobble)

weekend in a wink

I've started a few posts about my weekend, but they all sucked, so here we go - bullet points again!

 

• Cleaned my house, top to bottom, on Friday.  It's beautiful.  And clean. 
• Saturday I cut my hair off.  It's chin length and I adore it.  Pictures coming.
• Went shopping on Saturday with DDFF and found the best fitting bra I've had in awhile, an amazing pair of pants, 2 new shirts I love.
• Ate Chinese food at a Cajun Grill.  Go figure.
• Discovered a new place to buy wool yarn for felting.  WAHOO
• Sunday I had 2 prenatals, an interview, lunch, coffee, and cheesecake with DDFF.  LOVELY. 
• DDFF and I both got hit on at a local bookstore.  Feels good to two ol' married gals.  Must be the new bras.

Today, I'm staying home.  I'm knitting.  I'm doing laundry.  I'm watching my soap.  I'm cooking.  I'm happy.

 

Look for an interesting post tomorrow. 

 

Seasons of Change

Okay, this has nothing at all to do with the subject of my entry today, but let me just state for the record that I have done a load of laundry, fixed a large and healthy breakfast, done the dishes, scrubbed the upstairs bathroom, cleaned the living room and kitchen (including windows,) swept AND mopped the entire upstairs - all before 10 AM.  That's what I call TCB.  RIGHT ON.

 

Now, on with the show.

 

Last night, as I sat with my husband, I started to think about how much I've grown up in the last 7 years.  It's startling, really.  This has been a part of my life story and it happens every so often.  Huge expansive growth, sometimes taking it's time, sometimes coming in spurts like an infant turning into a child.  Makes me wonder - what precipitates such growth?  Such change?  If I look back into my history, can I see a pattern?  Can I see a jumping off point?

 

I think I can.  Well, I can see at least 2. 

 

The Summer of 1993

This was the year of the Hundred Years Flood.  The town I lived in was pretty much shut off from the rest of the world and I was 17 years old, about to start my Senior year of High School.  I was dating a guy who was absolutely unlike anything I had ever known and unlike anything that my parents hoped for me.  This was the summer I discovered camping and whiskey and weed, Marlboro reds, The Allman Brothers, The Grateful Dead, Little Feat, the power and downfall of my sexuality.  I learned the power of NO, the power of YES, and the power of Nunya - as in "it's Nunya business."  This is the summer I got my tattoo, at least 4 new ear piercings, my own set of wheels, my appreciation for girlfriends, loud music, Doc Martens.  It was the summer that my parents split from each other and I began my split from them.

 

For a long time, I thought this summer was the best summer of my life.  I thought that it would define me forever.  Even now, I can remember certain moments so clearly, it's as if I lived them just yesterday. 

• Riding to the County Fair in a big ol' truck owned by my buddy Matt's dad.  Sitting in the back seat, the only girl in the vehicle, smoking a joint and hearing Melissa for the very first time.  To this day, it's still my favorite Allman Bros song and I cannot hear it without closing my eyes and seeing the red interior of the truck and smelling the river that had inundated our town.
• Hanging out in the bowling alley, shooting pool, and smoking - in comes my friend Beth with a red nose that has a new little thingy on it - she had pierced her own nose by shoving an earring through it.  You wouldn't believe where she is now.  To celebrate, my band of merry outlaws walked along the highway until we got the Crunchy Kittens where we pooled all our change and ordered 6 cups of coffee, Moz sticks, and potato skins.  We then spent about 4 hours there, about 3 hours and 35 minutes longer than it took us to eat the artery clogging foods.
• Hearing the terror in my boyfriend's voice as the flood waters came up through the heating vent in his grandmother's floor and learning of my parents love for me when they sold his family furniture really cheaply to replace what the waters had taken away.  They loathed him, yet they helped him and his family.  BTW, Steve, you still owe my dad $40.

I thought that this summer was the summer written about in songs, the summer that would stand the test of time as the litmus test of who I would become.  I thought this until ...

 

The Summer of 1999

This was the summer I grew my dreadlocks, the summer my best friend lost her father to his own gun, the summer that I lost the illusion that I was happy where I was.  It was the summer I found Waylon Jennings, George Jones, and Merle Haggard, 1983 Landcruisers, sushi, and that an Eagle Talon can go 70 mph in a parking lot.  I learned what true friendship is, what risks are worth taking, what ethics really matter.  I learned that I'm enough on my own, that you cannot judge a book by it's cover, that I'm worth the risk of taking a gigantic leap of faith. I learned that Shiner Bock, Merlot, ganja, and Xanax put me to sleep for hours if taken all at once.  I learned that the mind body connection is stronger than conventional wisdom, that sometimes knowing that it's right is enough, even when it doesn't make any sense.  This was the summer that I learned that I belong with a long haired country boy.

 

Again, memories are so fresh.

 

• Running into the bathroom to comfort my best friend as the gravity of her father's suicide hit her full force, yet again.  I cannot imagine her pain - but I know it was too much for her to even pee. 
• Sitting in the woods, drinking beer, and hearing this guy who electrified me say, "I think we're having a moment of our own."
• Skipping a huge concert to spend time with my friends
• Twisting my dreadlocks, drinking wine, smoking the herb, and watching Bob Marley videos over and over again.
• That little apartment on 10th street with no a/c or hot water that, to us, was heaven on earth because we could be together.
• Getting doused with water at a Ziggy Marley concert and not wanting to kill the guy who did it.  It's been over 6 years and he's still alive and in fact, is now married to me!

Reading over that summer, it seems so insignificant.  I cannot put it into words, but let me just say that the summer was anything but insignificant.  It changed my life.  Maybe it started my life.  I don't know, but I can say this - no matter how hard it was, I'd never change one thing.

 

Summers now are spent slathering sunscreen on little bodies, playing in the sandbox, doing work on the house we own.  Long gone are the days of being drunk by 2 pm and having sex 4 times a day.  Long gone are the hangovers, the lost stashes, the landlord concerns, and the questions of "who am I?"  It's a nice trade.  I'm happy where I am.

 

What will mark my next jumping off point?  Hard to say.  I'm sure it will shape and mold me into something new and improved.  There's lots of room for improvement and I've got lots of time.  I'm just going to hold on and enjoy the ride.

New stuff on Kohleidoscope

I have posted some new pictures on Kohleidoscope if you want to take a look.  The San Diego bag and the Visions of Vail were custom made for folks, but Concrete Jungle is up for grabs (hat and scarf can be sold as a set or separately.)  I have a large stock of yarns these days and plan to make things to have some inventory.  I'm currently accepting orders for holiday gifts.  Just email me!

Thought for the day

Food for thought. I gotta eat a lot of this.

 

LEAVES!

We took advantage of the beautiful weather yesterday. I raked up a huge pile of leaves and the boys set to playing. I have to say, I loved loved loved playing in leaves as a kid. It warms my heart to no end to see my children doing the same. 

Tie Dyed Tuesday

What can I say? The tide is turning. We're pissed, we're speaking out, and we're being heard.

Yesterday was election day all over the country and one thing has become pretty darn clear with the light of day - we're not going to take it anymore.

In New Jersey, a Democrat defeated a Republican for the office of Governor. He won by a 10 point margin. In California, all four propositions backed by Republican Governor "It's not a tumor" failed. In Virginia, Tim Kaine is the new Democratic Lieutenant Governor, winning the office even after The Monkey made a last minute campaign visit to support the Republican candidate. Not surprising, actually. I would think that a campaign visit and vote of support by George W. would be the kiss of death - I mean, good night, he has less than a 40% approval rate himself!

In my own state, public outrage over government officials is rampant. Sincerely. I live in a very liberal, free spirited, college town. It's very artsy, progressive, alive - which, of course, is why I've decided to make it my home. We all have something to say and most of us say it with bumper stickers. I cannot tell you how many cars I see driving around with stickers saying things like, "Don't blame me, I didn't vote for him the first time, either." "Somewhere in Texas a village is missing it's idiot." And, in regards to state matters, "Blunt Trauma," has got to be one of my favorites.

Let's see, what has the republican party done for us in the last few years? I could list the favors (like millions of people losing health care coverage, like funding for research for devastating diseases like Parkinson's disease being cut, like a drop in education funds, the rich getting richer, the poor getting poorer, and the unfortunate ones to not live in a white house with a picket fence, well, screw them because "they live in a place where no decent person would ever want to live," ) but it would only cause an incredibly lengthy post and sore fingers for myself.

I have a few friends who either are card carrying Republicans or who have voted Republican in the past (yes, some of these votes helped to put The Monkey in a National office and The Ass in a State office.) I have had deep and honest conversations with them and let me tell you, their heads are hanging, their tails are tucked. Nothing like putting your life savings on the line at the track and seeing your horse leave the gate, shit on the track, and then lay down in it to lick himself. That's gotta suck.

Meanwhile, we Democrats have been sitting on the sidelines, holding signs and petitions, and saying, "See, you schmucks, we told you so. We've been telling you for years."

What can I say? We're more than bong toting, tree hugging, granola farming, patchouli wearing, Chai drinking, hummus making, organic hippies. We're smart. We're committed. We're educated. We're passionate.

We're being validated and maybe, just maybe, we're right.

I am all about people believing in whatever they want to believe. I am all about differences and diversity. I believe that we MUST have differing opposing parties - after all, it's friction that causes change. I like to be challenged, to have my view points questions. It strengthens my resolve. It reinforces my beliefs. I guess it's been a while since my political opposites have been in the same hot seat. I wonder, how will this change things?

I don't know. I don't have the answers. I have to say, however, that it's becoming abundantly clear to the entire nation that The Monkey and The Ass and all the other barnyard pests don't have the answers, either. In fact, they are only bringing up more questions and dropping a lot of crap in the fields. If an elephant shits in the woods, you can bet your ass it stinks - and it's stinking around the world.

So, come on over to my house. I'll give you some chamomile tea, play you my favorite Dead bootleg, and we can chat while the Nag Champa covers the smell of manure. If you're lucky, I'll show you my granola farm. I hear it's the crop of the future. Let's hope so.

Possible blog topics

I've been feeling the urge to write something on my blog, but couldn't decide between a handful of topics. So I have decided to write a brief blurb about each of them.  I can promise that there won't be anything profound or deep here.  I'm just downloading my brain.

 

And away we go ...

I spent the better part of Friday with my best girlie, JP.  I swear, we had so much fun together that it was nearly enough to make her drop her gig so we can do it more often!  Her 3 kids and my 2 kids played in her yard while we drank Chianti, talked about our husbands, and laughed at her ridiculous red lipstick.  What was going to be a 2 hour play date ended up being a 6 hour adventure.  I love JP.  We have spent a lot of time trying to figure out how and why our paths crossed when they did, what higher power caused us to collide.  The truth of the matter is that our friendship is deep and connected in ways that just don't have explanation.  We have pretty much concluded that it was a very specific chain of events that happened during a particular time period.  Had one single day not happened as it did, we might not have made the connection.  Everything as it should be.  Anyway, by the end of the day, we had played dress up and make up and danced to music with the kids.  We had kissed boo boos and discussed dinner.  She reminded me of all the wonderful things about my husband and I reminded her of all the wonderful things about hers (girlfriends have to do this every now and then, you know.)  We talked about being professionals, about owning our own businesses, about being successful and self sufficient.  How blessed we are to know that, if we had to, we could support ourselves.  That we are not bound to anyone out of need - that we are bound to folks in our lives out of love and choice.  I once read that the measure of a good friend, one who is worth keeping around, is noticing if you feel better or worse after having spent time with them.  Think about that.  Don't we all have "friends" who leave us feeling drained and lethargic after having spent time with them?  I have never once felt that way after leaving JP.  I am so proud of her - she makes me proud of myself.  That is a true blue friend. 

 

A former friend of mine was arrested yesterday for murdering his wife.  Apparently (and yeah, it's allegedly, I know,) he slowly poisoned his wife by slipping chemicals into her Gatorade over a period of time.  I haven't seen him or had any contact with him in probably 10 years, but it's striking news, none the less.  He was creepy then, guess he's still creepy now.  I mean, the guy wore a black leather jacket, brown loafers, and carried a brief case to high school.  Since I was so busy hunting out folks who looked like heroin addicts, I never really paid too much attention to him, but was around him socially probably 60% of my high school years.  It's just a strange thought, you know?  Anyway, I told B this morning that if he ever wants to kill me, to do it like a man and shoot me or run me over with a truck or something.  Slow poisoning is for pansies.  He agreed and we even shook on it.  Whew!  Glad that's taken care of.

 

Did I mention that I'm going to be learning to spin yarn?  Oh I did?  Well, just in case - I'M GOING TO LEARN HOW TO SPIN YARN.  It's exciting stuff.

 

The holidays are coming and I'm really excited about them this year.  I feel no pressure what so ever in regards to shopping.  It's odd - usually I'm totally freaked out about this kind of thing.  Maybe it's because this year I'm more financially stable than I have been before.  Maybe it's because I have a better understanding of what is truly important.  Maybe it's because my kids are at a great age.  I don't know, but I'm welcoming it and I'm welcoming it all.  

 

And with holidays come the return of my friends from far and wide.  MANY folks are coming in to my state and / or city in the next few weeks.  I'm thrilled - just thrilled.  It's a Wonderful Life, indeed.

 

The brain explosion that I had a few weeks ago has really grabbed a hold of my life and I'm so pleased that it wasn't a transient experience.  I really feel and believe that my mind set has truly changed for the better.  Pronoia really is amazing.  Being optimistic (and realistic) is amazing.  There really is a mind body connection, an energy dialogue, that mixes Karma, kismet, fate, faith, hope, acceptance, forgiveness, courage, humility, and dreams into an almost euphoric reality and I'm so glad that I've made the connection.  Now, don't get me wrong - there are still things that suck in my life -but they are  things that suck in my life , not things in my life that sucks.   I can deal with that. 

 

It's 80 degrees outside.  B is going fishing and my boys are itching to climb a tree and ride bikes.  I cannot blame them - there's a lot out there for them. There's a lot out there for us all.

 

TCB so I can SOMA

AKA Taking Care of Business so I can Sit On My Ass.

Went grocery shopping this morning. Now, let me just say that grocery shopping in our house might be different than in other houses. We do the big grocery shopping trip once a month and then only go to the store for produce and perishables (and, of course, things we eat too quickly like ice cream and apples.) What this means is generally 2 hours in the store with 2 wiggly kids, at least one mid-shopping trip to the bathroom, 3 incidents of losing the list, 2 phone calls, the kids devouring almost an entire box of Pop Tarts before we even get to the check out (my only junk food purchase of the day,) and it all culminates in a bill of over $200 and an extra cart to haul the loot out. Managing 2 carts loaded with food and kids through a downhill parking lot is not always the easiest thing in the world to do. I'm strong and I manage, but oh my Moses, it's a work out (careful not to smash into that Mercedes, Sarah.)

When we finally make it home and back into driveway, jobs are handed out. It's always the same job for each kid and it's always the same rules. I park and unload the groceries. I set the bags in the entry way of our home and the boys drag the bags over the hardwood floors into the kitchen. Life is much easier now that they are old enough to help. So, after all this is done, they get a movie and some yogurt and I put everything away, where I want it to go, in peace.

We end about 3 hours after starting out. My kids are great through the whole thing, and as thanks, I let them live. :-)

In less than an hour, we will leave to drive to another town about 30 minutes from here where Stealth will visit the dentist. He has "a bug in his tooth" that needs to be taken care of. He's excited about it! Of course, he is - he's never had a cavity before and he has NO idea what he's in for. I, on the other hand, am all too aware. Anyone got some Scotch?

After the dentist, we'll visit MIL and PhIL, my in-laws. They want to take us to this extra special dairy place in town that has extra special ice cream. Stealth will be unable to eat or drink for an hour after his appointment. Shit. I will be spending that time with my in-laws doing what?? Again, Scotch is welcome.

When all that is done, however, we'll come home. There will be ample food to prepare for dinner - we just have to decide what. I'll cook it, B will do the dishes, and the kids will crash shortly there after. After the kids are in bed, B and I will enjoy a huge ass bowl of salad, probably stare at the glowing box in the living room, and I'll finally start doing what I've been dreaming of since my feet hit the floor this morning - sitting on my ass.

It's good to have goals.

You spin me right round baby, right round, like a record baby, right round round round

Whew, that was nuts!  When I get started with these titles, I sometimes cannot stop!

 

Okay, so, actually, no one is spinning any records, BUT I'll be spinning something.  Oh yeah, baby, that's right, I'll be spinning yarn!

 

I had a lovely, all too brief visit with David yesterday.  While discussing new and exciting ideas for working with Ozark Handspun, he asked me if I was ready to move on to the next step.  Frankly, my butt tightened up at that.  When David asks if you're ready to move on to something else, you just never ever know what in the world he's going to suggest.  It's like Christmas every single day with him!  Anyway, he brought out a Louet wheel (can be seen in these pictures) and asked if I had room for it in my van.  Well, let me just tell you, I nearly ruined my pants in excitement!  I'm a fiber addict - imagine my excitement and bliss at the prospect of learning to spin wool and mohair into yarn!  AMAZING.

 

So, I'll be spending a few hours with him in the coming weeks to learn how to do it.  Seriously, folks, this is just so thrilling.  And believe you me, my excitement will come out in Kohleidoscope's offerings.  Get ready folks, my obsession has taken a new spin, er um, turn!

 

Birth and Rebirth

In my line of work, there is a saying that has passed down from one doula to another, from one year to the next. "We are at the births we are meant to attend." It's nearly our credo (along with "each one teach one," "Birth is not an illness," and others.) While we try like mad to make every birth we can, sometimes we miss one. Sometimes we go to births we hadn't planned on attending. Sometimes, well, sometimes you just never know. It's birth, after all, and birth can be unpredictable. The last 22 hours have taught me this lesson more than the previous 3 years of doing this work - we really are at the births we are meant to attend.

I got a phone call from a client yesterday afternoon. I have been friends with the expectant father for several years. Their baby was a little over due and there were a few minor possible complications coming up, so they had decided to go into the hospital for an induction. This was a mixed bag of emotions for me. I was somewhat disappointed for them because an induction was absolutely not what they had planned, but I was also excited because I was going to see my friend see his baby come into the world. I had been looking forward to this since early Summer and the time had come.

Over the course of the next several hours, my business partner and I stayed in phone contact with each other and with the expectant couple. I could tell that something unusual was going on -each time they called, they stated that they didn't need us there yet, and the labor was getting complicated. I went to bed early, fully expecting to get called out in the middle of the night. Several phone calls between my partner and I took place during the late hours of the night and the early hours of this morning. By 2 in the morning, it looked like we were not going to be called in to this one after all. Let me tell you, this realization shook me more than I expected. I felt a little gypped, to be honest (and yeah, I know talk about selfish!) I was disappointed because, while I couldn't be sure, I felt that perhaps our presence could have made things go a little more smoothly. I was sad because I was going to miss something that I had looked forward to and worked hard towards. And, I'll be really honest and say that it shook my self confidence a little. My mind was spinning and all I could do was just trust that the universe had it all in control and that, indeed, we are at the births we are meant to attend.

2 hours after I drifted off to sleep, my phone rang again. It was a different client and she was actively laboring!! Well, how about that? This client also held a personal element for me - she was planning a VBAC at a hospital, something near and dear to my heart as I, too, had a VBAC. An hour after her original call, she called again asking me to come to her home. I could tell that things were moving quickly. When I arrived at her door 25 minutes later, I could tell just by the sound of her that she was close to giving birth. Her husband looked at me as though I sincerely was a life saver and, as I found my way to my client, I silently asked the universe to guide me in all that I say and do. She was involuntarily pushing - and she was doing it her own way. She'd been laboring only for 3 hours and it was intense. So, we all loaded up into their vehicle and drove the 15 minutes to the hospital. Sure enough, when she she got to her room, the nurse checked her and, with wide open eyes and a dropped jaw, declared, "I cannot find any cervix at all! You're completely dilated - go ahead and push, if you feel like it." (For the record, hospitals are not used to folks coming in complete at all - this totally blew their minds.)

Without getting into the details, she pushed her baby out less than 2 hours after we arrived at the hospital and she did it all on her own, under her own power, without any drugs. She did it. She really did it.

I watched her face as she pushed her baby out, as she held her daughter for the first time, as her husband cried over them both and gushed in the most amazing way that only new fathers can. I watched her realize that she is not a broken woman, that she is whole and complete and that she can do this. I watched her face and she whispered the words, "This is what it's meant to be." I watched her old wounds heal and I realized that some of my old wounds were healing, too. I was able to complete the circle - to give to her what DDFF had given to me 3 and a half years ago. And I have to tell you, I don't know who was more proud - the new family or the doula.

With tears in their eyes, this lovely couple told their parents about me and what I meant to them. While my ears always love to hear praise, all I could think was that they had done just as much for me, if not more, than I had done for them. I have such an amazing career.

As of this writing, my friend and his wife have still not given birth. I can only trust that it was meant to be this way for them, and for me.

I have learned so much in the last 22 hours. I have learned that sometimes we miss the births we're meant to miss and we absolutely attend the births we are meant to attend. I'm blessed to be in this line of work - where else can you see new babies be born and be reborn yourself?

New pictures

There's new pictures up on Kohleidoscope, iffin's you wanna take a look.  Many of the items you see (and I'm working on several others) will be at the Beaux Arts show the last weekend of November.  Come and take a look see, eh?

Duck and Me

Isn't he cute??? 

Gilbert K. Chesterton

I think I may have a new hero. Check him out.  The quotes alone are just wonderful.

 

The most wondeful concept in the world

Okay. Now, I know that this is kind of smarmy, weaselly, blogging behavior. I know it is. BUT, I'm going to allow myself to do it in the mindset of "Passing it on." Hope you can forgive me. And, frankly, if you can't then you need this even more!

Pronoia. Check it out. Dee2 writes about it amazingly well (okay, well, she let a magazine do it, but you know, it's more than I have!)

So, I apologize for copping out. It's all part of a covert plot to improve my life. :-)