Magimom's Mom Stuff

Moving Day...

2010-05-16T00:00:00.000-07:00

I hate moving... in real life, or on the internet... it is time consuming, irritating, and invariably, something (or someone) gets left behind.

I'm hoping that doesn't happen in this case - I've been weighing my options for a while now, and everyone who's serious about blogging has told me that WordPress is the place to be... so - Magmiom is moving to WP. Yep, that's right folks - we're moving over there. So... if you are reading this post, it means two things:

You're in the wrong spot! Go here to catch up on things!
You might want to update your RSS feed too! Clicky!

Everything over here will remain, and I will monitor for comments and such.

As always thanks for stopping by - c'mon over to the new place - there is a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you!

Have a wonderful Sunday,

Boxes, boxes, everywhere!

2010-05-15T00:00:00.000-07:00

Gotta love the moving and packing thing!

I discovered some "treasure" while packing my books today. Treasure in the form of the printed page. Books I've had since I was young, books I've treasured most of my life.
The stack you see in the photo above are my animal encyclopedias. They are actually called the New Illustrated ANIMAL KINGDOM and were written in 1952. There are 18 of them in the set. Publish Post

I cannot tell you how many science reports were written from these books! Especially since they were first used by my Aunt and Uncles when they went to school - we didn't get them from grandma until the 70's.

When I was young, my grandfather lived with us. His favorite thing in the world was reading - period. He was pretty much self-educated having only completed the 6th grade in formal schooling. However, he was one of the most intelligent persons I've ever known. My aunt would spend a LOT of time finding special books for my grandfather - books that would not only excite his reading muse, but books that were educational and beautiful as well. Now, I will tell you prior to showing these images these books are VERY old. I have done my best to preserve them, however most of them have been around for 30+ years so there is a bit of dust, dirt, and use showing.
The first is this one:

Yes, I took pictures of book jackets - too lazy to stand there and scan as I packed.
this is Jacques Cousteu's The Ocean World. I spent hours pouring over this book when I was young. It is full of absolutely stunning photography of the ocean and its inhabitants.
Next up:

The National Geographic Society - 100 years of Adventure and Discovery
If you've ever seen a Nat Geo magazine - then you know just how wonderful this book might be. This book was released on the 100th anniversary of the magazine and covered their first 100 years. For those who might not know - that was 1888 - 1988.
Next up:

China - The Land, The Cities, The People, The Culture, The Present

Another stunning photographic essay of China and it's people. It was so wonderfully written and presented that the Geography essay I did using it got me an A+ in high school! Not sure but I'm pretty sure this was 1987 or 89.

The Good Earth - The view from Audubon Magazine.
Another wonderful "coffee table" book filled with amazing photographs from the Audubon Magazine.

My children have loved these books as much as my grandfather and I did/do. My two oldest spent hours in his lap as little ones riffling through the pages and naming off fish, animals, birds and plants. They loved them - and they learned a lot from them. I'll be keeping these around for future generations. Even if it's in these:

Yep, ALL of those boxes are books nothing but books. No magazines, no videos, no dvds or games.... all books! Whew - and I'm not done. But I am close!
Tomorrow I will be packing up my great grandmothers china if I can find enough material to pack with. I'll share photos of those treasured pieces as well. Until then - Happy Saturday ya'll!

Oh How I Hate Moving!!!

2010-05-14T09:34:00.000-07:00

Any move is hard... it represents an unknown, if you will. It is change in environment, social circles, and location. In most cases it makes people both excited and uncomfortable. Its definitely not settling to move.
As of right now, we're beginning the packing process. I have stacks of boxes in the living room, just waiting for my families belongings.
I am packing books today - hopefully with some form of organization... If I don't get overly frustrated, I will try to get some other things packed as well. But there are so many books in my house!!!!

This is just one completely stuffed bookcase. Please note that both the top and bottom shelves are also totally stacked full as well. I have a full cabinet in the bedroom... and two more bookshelves in the hall, as well as one more in the living room. It's insane how many books we have. People say "well get rid of the ones you've read"... sorry... not gonna happen!
I'm one of those that rereads books, over and over again. I cannot tell you how many time's I've read VC Andrews first series of books - and every subsequent series! Or Laurel K. Hamilton's Anita Blake series. Or Harry Potter, or Patricia Cornwell, or Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Tim Lahay, HOLY CRAP MAN! I got a lot of books!!!!
I have ALL of the books ever written by some of the authors listed above, and that's just nuts. BUT I am not willing to part with them. Therefore I will be packing books all day.

I just want to let everyone know that your kind and wonderful comments have been greatly appreciated. I feel like I have a "family" on the web with my supporters and frequent visitors - kind of an extended support system. Which is what I'm loving about the move - I get to take all of you with me!!!!
It's my "stability" in my changing world. No matter where I am - you guys will always be there as long as I have my computer and wifi! YAY Internets!

Well, it's off to ~~throw~~ gently place some books in boxes.
Happy Friday!!
PS: I forgot to show ya'll what Our Girl drew me for Mother's Day:

I just adore the vibe of this picture! It's free and bright and happy, and it makes me smile. It's currently on the wall above my desk along with some other things she's done for me. I'm so blessed with wonderful children!!! Ok - NOW I'm really going to pack (I'm not stalling, really)!
PPS: Please don't forget that starting Monday, we'll be over at WordPress!!! You can head on over there now, and check things out - everything from here has already been transferred! Including your lovely comments, thanks so much!

May I have some cheese, please?

2010-05-13T07:03:00.000-07:00

It should go rather well with my whine today. I try not to complain a lot, especially to the kids, and even more especially about things they have no control over. I hear our kids friends talk about some of their parents issues and I wonder how do they know this stuff? Now, don't get me wrong, I am a firm believer in letting kids know things that affect them. We sat our kids down when both of us lost our jobs within a month of each other, and we let them know that things would be very tight until we went back to work. We let them know that lights needed to be policed, the A/C needed to be used less, and no waste allowed. They understood and got on board. We have discussed my health issues with them, just so they understand that mommy hurts and they need to be careful when hugging or touching. They know the details they need to know and nothing more. I believe in protecting my kids to an extent from the depth of our issues. For instance, I would not whine to my kids about the fact that we got our last unemployment check yesterday, and we have no more money coming in until June 1. Not something they need to stress about the last two weeks of school.
However, dear readers, you are not safe from my whine... sorry. If you would rather not hear my problems, then maybe you should come back tomorrow.
Last night we were discussing with Our Girl the fact that her room (which is the largest room in the entire house) would be used for staging as we pack to move. Meaning she would need to clear out one end of the room so we could use it. She got mad. I don't mean a little mad, I mean MAD mad! She just cannot understand why we would want to put boxes out of the way in her room, why not her brothers room? Her brothers room is a standard 12X10 bedroom, with two twin beds, two dressers and nightstands. BOTH boys reside in there when Little Man is home - there isn't ROOM for boxes. Then she wanted to know why I couldn't keep them in the hallway and laundry room. I explained that we use the hallway to get to the bathroom and the laundry room to wash clothing - no space for boxes there. So she went on to ask "well, if we're moving anyway, why can't we just put the boxes in your office - it's not like you're using it all the time"... WHAT? MY OFFICE? Ummm... I think not sweetheart - this office is my refuge away from it all. It's the only place in the house I can go to get peace, quiet, and connect with my muse. Not. Gonna. Happen. Our Girl's room? Yeah - the darn thing is 20x40 - it was supposed to be TWO rooms, and we didn't get around to putting a divider in - she was supposed to get the back half, and the front half was going to be a Kids Den. But she took over the entire room, spread out all over the place, and we of course ran out of money/time to get the divider up so she wound up with the whole thing. And now she's pissed that I want to use half of it for boxes.... hrmph.. Guess where my boxes are going to be???? HA!
T
Her other issue last night was one I almost laughed at. She asked her dad if she would get a room just as big as the one she's in now at our new house - because she didn't think she could handle going to one the size of her brothers room now. I swear ya'll I nearly died laughing. This is pretty much how that conversation went:
US: Dad and I will get the master, the boys will share, she'll get a room and my son will, as always sleep on the couch. You will be in a regular bedroom.
HER: Well, I will get the bigger of the other bedrooms, right?
US: Umm... NO - you have two brothers who will be sharing a bedroom, they get the bigger room.
HER: Well that's not fair I'm the oldest. (at this point I'm not laughing anymore because she's being a pain in the butt and I still have a freaking headache).
US: Well, it really is fair because there are two of them, and they have to share a room. (and because I get a little cranky over my son) I said: You know, you are not the oldest - Jon is the oldest. Jon is also the only one who has sacrificed a bed and privacy for you kids. He gave up his bedroom for the boys, and never got it back.
HER: Oh, so he's going to get the biggest room.
US: NO! Did you even hear what we just said???
HER: Well, not really I was thinking....

OH. PLEASE. SHOOT. ME. NOW.

You know, I love my kids, and most of the time I don't differentiate between my kids and his kids - but when she starts the crap about how she's the oldest, and deserves all this stuff - I have to say something. It's like she forgets that he even lives with us. Not that it would matter much, because she's sixteen and we all know what that means. Drama.

But, at this point its all good. We're working with the Realtor now to see when we can get the payment on the house - and how long we have until we have to move. If we can play this right and get the customary 30 days - then we're golden, we can pop on up to Chattanooga for a couple of days and house hunt. Then we'll have a place to put all these darned boxes while we get out of here. I'm hoping it works out that way - I hate moving to a storage unit, then to a home - it take so much time and is such a waste of effort. It's NOT efficient.

Well, I guess that's my whine and cheese party for today. What's making you whine?

Everybody's Workin' for the Weekend

2010-05-11T22:15:00.000-07:00

Everybody's working for the weekend

Everybody wants a little romance

Everybody's goin' off the deep end

Everybody needs a second chance, oh

You want a piece of my heart

You better start from start

You wanna be in the show

Come on baby lets go!

Yep, I'm a child of the 80's... can you tell? Heh. THIS stupid song got stuck in my head this afternoon and I cannot get rid of it - I've even tried listening to it all the way through (usually that works) but even that didn't solve the issue.

After my debacle yesterday with Our Girl it seems things have evened out a bit again - she apologized for arguing with me and I apologized for snapping, and now we're back to our normal selves. She even volunteered to fix dinner tonight - well, actually she commandeered dinner preparation because she knew my head was still freaking pounding. Unfortunately it's beginning to look like this is going to be one of those bouts of Fibro - the ones that send me to bed for days on end, the ones that even mass amounts of anti-anxiety, muscle relaxers, or pain killers can stop. It's a nightmare when it starts, and it continues to be a nightmare for several days. And of course it could not have come at a better time - of course! We got an offer on our house this week. We have about 60 days to make our decision. 60 days to pack up a house, get medical and school records for three children, decide on mental health placement for our youngest son (if he's not released by closing), and find a place to live in our new city. It should get pretty interesting around here!

In a way I'm excited because we will be "starting over" in a new town, and in another way I'm really apprehensive because we will be starting over in a new town. I guess it's just a matter of perspective. We can be positive and look at this as a huge opportunity for better - or we can be negative and look at it as losing our home, that's paid for because we can't find work here.

I prefer to take the positive route, and even if we take a hit on the value of the house - it's all CASH money in our pocket - every dime. And that will give us a nice cushion to live on until we do find work. I can only hope this headache disappears soon - I've got packing to do!!!

Tuesday's Time Out

2010-05-11T07:05:00.000-07:00

I guess I need a time-out...
Yesterday was a really rough day for me! After doing my bloggy thing and writing a post for Monday Monkey Minute I had a monster of a headache. Of course the headache is directly related to my Fibromyalgia - and tends to make me quite an irritable mom.
My children KNOW this - yet they don't seem to understand that it doesn't matter to my pain what day it is, what event is planned, or what I want to do. I am a total slave to the pain when it rears its ugly head. A combination of weather and stress caused this recent uproar, and it won't stop until the pressure rises some more.
So, last night, even though I planned to cook a lovely dinner for everyone, we wound up having hot dogs. Mainly because I was in too much pain to cook, and because Our Girl neglected about half the kitchen when she was cleaning Sunday night. I STILL have dishes in my sink even after she had kitchen again last night.
When she was asked to do the kitchen, she calmly informed me (in her stooped over posture) that her back hurt too bad to stand in front of the sink...
Umm.... WHAT?
Ok, so I will have to say that she went out Saturday with her BF and they picked strawberries, all afternoon. She came home with a sunburn across the small of her back. So I'm sure it aches a bit, and it's tender.
But, after a day like yesterday filled with painful naps and tender spots all over my body - I lost it.
I looked at her and quite calmly said "You know Girl, I don't care one iota about your minuscule back pain. Your pain is going to go away in a day or two, and honestly won't get better if you baby it - however my pain is gonna last until the good Lord sees fit to take me out of this world. I didn't CHOOSE this disease, it chose me. I did not wake up one morning and say - Wow, I wish a different part of my body would hurt so bad I want to cut it off - every day of my life. No, I did not! However, Our Girl DID decide to go stoop in a strawberry patch for an entire day, she should OWN her pain.
Needless to say, I hurt her feelings, callus and cold as I am. Which in turn hurt my feelings because I can't stand to make my kids feel bad about things.
What makes my outburst even worse... the damned strawberries? They were used in a strawberry pie for my mothers day gift. (Even though I don't LIKE strawberries, didn't have the heart to tell her that).
I managed to not only make her mad, but her dad stopped the "Family Movie" with dinner - which managed to piss everyone else off. So I whipped out my standard apology - Sorry guys, I guess it's just been one of those days... and I skulked off to my room.
I feel bad, of course, and I'll speak with her when she gets home to apologize "for real", but it won't matter, because Our Girl holds a grudge. I'm in for a week of hell and I brought it on myself. I know that I did... and for that I need a time-out.
So, what have you done to deserve a time-out lately?
As always, thanks for stopping by! Don't forget, this time next week, we'll be over at WordPress!!

Monday Monkey Minute

2010-05-10T10:23:00.000-07:00

It never ceases to amaze me the wonderful people I find on the internet. The bloggy world is full of them. Folks with amazing stories about overcoming adversity, abuse, or divorce. People who have or are fighting amazing battles with disease, mental disorders or sickness. Very rarely do I come across these stories as they unfold, until now.
There is a lovely blog I follow called My Pixie Dreams, the wonderful mommy of this brood of pixies has just been informed that her barely 16 month old daughter has cancer. So - the blog community is getting together to show some love for this wonderful little family - and I'm joining in the fun.
So - without further ado - Todays Monday Monkey Minute! Please link up and show the love!!!

Now, here is what you should do - first head over to Ian's place and grab the button!
Next - link up on his list, and post using the questions below!

1 – How old do you act? Hmm... I think I pretty much act my age most days, others - I'm WAY older than in reality. Fibromyalgia can do that!
2 – As far back as you can remember, what did you want to be when you grew up? A mom! That was my biggest aspiration as a child, second place was Nurse. I've got seven kids, guess we all know what I got to do!
3 – If you were to write a book based on your life, what would the title be? The Mad Mad Mad World of Magimom
4 – What’s something that you do that’s considered “childish” by most? I get excited over little things, like baby animals and stuff... I am not very good at containing my excitement!
5 – The last question isn’t a question. Write a story of a time of when you or someone you know overcame great adversity.
My mother is my hero in overcoming adversity. She lost my dad just after I turned 13 (three days). Needless to say, she persevered when she felt like crying. She not only cared for me, but for her aging parents as well. She finished her education and started a new career all while doing her job as a wonderful mother and daughter. She taught me how to live, love, and rejoice in life's little things - for that I am eternally grateful!

SO, now go show Michelle some love, link up with the Monday Monkey Minute, and have a Happy Monday!

Holy Monday Batman!

2010-05-10T06:59:00.000-07:00

So here we are, Monday - after Mother's Day weekend. Seems to me that last week FLEW by and that the weekend was here and gone without me even realizing it! When the alarm went off for Our Girl this morning I wanted to shoot it in the face! Thankfully the hubs takes her to school, so no face-shooting was required. However 15 minutes after they left it went off again - then I really wanted to shoot it in the face - until I realized it wasn't an alarm, it was the low battery warning, and if Our Girl was going to get to school on time the rest of the week, then I needed to put it on the charger. You see, something funny happens to hubster when his phone dies... He seems to be able to perfectly time anything he needs to do in between those annoying beeps. If he goes to the bathroom he usually walks in right after it beeps and is out of the bedroom before the next one has time to go off... or he just doesn't hear it period. So I got up and found the charger - and a free outlet in which to plug it. So now I'm up - funny thing, hubs got home and went straight back to bed this morning... sigh...

As for the original intention of this post - well - I had planned on getting everything switched up and moved over the weekend, and to announce that we were picking up stakes and moving over to WordPress. But, alas, the best laid plans of gerbils and women - things went awry. Not the blog - the blog is good, both copies running just fine in both places. Maybe I should say I went awry. I'm still trying to solidify my decision. I've been on blogger for over a year and it's served me well. However, within a DAY of putting my Photography Blog over on WordPress I already had a follower and comments! What??? How the heck does THAT happen? So... this week is preparation, and I will mention it every day that I post. Then, next Monday - you will find us here! I have manged to get everything except the last couple of posts imported over there, with comments - and will do the same this Sunday to pull the remaining posts and comments over. Then it will be all WP all the time!

So, tell me dear readers - mistake, or best thing that ever happened to my blog? What service do you use to blog and do you like it?

Happy Monday All -

Happy Mothers Day

2010-05-09T10:42:00.000-07:00

Dare I say we've made it another year moms... by now everyone has opened the homemade card containing the macaroni necklace, mason lid pincushion, handprint in plaster or other equally adorable, precious memory of our babies childhood. After all it is these things that make us smile on a rainy day as we happen to find that sweet little card from a bright 6 year old. Nothing warms my heart more than opening my "scrapbook box" and digging through the items inside. Cards from years gone by, gifts on paper, artwork, and a myriad of memories float up out of the box.
I think of my mom, and the many sacrifices and heart aches she had because of me. Raising me - a headstrong, opinionated, fearless child, who knew no boundaries and rules.
I used to go to Hallmark and pick out the prettiest, sweetest, heartfelt card I could and I would give it to my mother after writing a quick note inside. Usually the note read something like this:

Mom,

Words cannot express how much you mean to me! After lots of looking I found one card, that said some of what I want to say... I love you mom! Happy Mothers Day.

My mother invariably cried. Every time she opened the cards - she would first read my handwritten note, then the message, then she'd bawl.

"You always know the perfect thing to say"...

Well, I may not know what to say, but I know how it needs to be said, I choose cards that evoke strong emotion in me. If I read it and nearly cry thinking "That is MY mom" then it's right...

I don't do Hallmark anymore, or cards at all really. I call my mom and we talk for hours, about me when I was little, her memories of her mom, my childhood memories... we remember the things that made our relationship comfortable and strong like it is today.

I'll be calling mom in a few hours, she had to work today... of all days! But she'll be home tonight, and once she settles in, we will talk awhile, and maybe, just maybe I won't miss her so damned much.

I love you Mom! Thank you for giving me life!

To all my "Mommy Readers" - Thank you for giving my blog life - and Happy Mothers Day!

Saturday - I'm Bored

2010-05-08T05:36:00.000-07:00

Finally! It's here! Saturday! Woohoo! NO school and two bored teenagers! I cannot be more happy - not!

It never ceases to amaze me that in a house with five computers, three televisions and three Xbox game systems someone could be bored... I don't get it - I mean, we've got plenty of electronic entertainment - and an entire LIBRARY of books I know my kids haven't read yet. So why the boredom? Because they've done it all - seen it all - played it all - and yes, read it all... hmmm - I think not... but whatever?!

Our guy hates not having his computer, unfortunately right now he's sharing said computer with my son Jon. Jon is in college and taking classes online, so his computer time is infinitely more important than Our Guy's. Our Girl is still in trouble and not allowed messenger or Facebook/Myspace applications right now, so in her words "the computer is a paper weight". She got a new book yesterday, so she should be good. However, when I made the suggestion that Our Guy use her computer to check on his game forums and such - she LOST IT!. NO WAY was he using her computer - regardless of whether she's using it or not... UGGGH

So, now she's gone for the day, Jon is working on a project for school, and Our Guy is bored... I'm so tempted to hand him his sisters laptop and tell him to have fun... however the war that would wage between them regardless of who gave permission would probably set the house into a spin - witches would be killed... I'm just sayin...

Boredom - is an emotional state experienced during periods lacking activity or when individuals are uninterested in the opportunities surrounding them. I love that last line - uninterested in the opportunities surrounding them. This is the way it is here - there is PLENTY to do - they just don't want to do it. They have books to read, games to play, and pets to love on and hang out with. We have an acre of woods behind our house, with miles of dirt trails and creeks beyond. When I was a teenager I would have gotten up, gotten breakfast, and GOTTEN OUT! - Not my kids... they're too "technically inclined" to enjoy a romp in the great outdoors. If they don't need a controller to play they don't want to play. So for the most part, boredom wins out for them most of the time. Not today - today I will show them that there really IS something to do.

Today I have a plan. Today - if you are bored? Find something to do - or I will find something FOR YOU to do.

Happy Saturday!

Why I Love My Mother 3

2010-05-07T19:05:00.000-07:00

My mother was such an inspiration to me. She was only 30 when my father passed away, so young to be a widow. So young to have to face the world alone with a child. My mother had a job as a nursing assistant then - she only worked part time evenings - to give her and dad some "fun money". When dad died, it was her only income - and she decided to make more of it. So, at the age of 32 my mother went back to school and got her nursing license. She is a registered nurse to this day. NOW she works 12 hour days - 3 on, 4 off. She likes it that way, it gives her more time for her grandchildren and her yard.

While mom was in school, year three of her four year program, her mother got sick. We took her to the doctor and the diagnosis was grim. My grandmother had end stage bladder cancer that had metastasized to her lungs. They gave her three months to live. It was her 75th birthday. My grandmother started chemo that same week - she asked the doctor to work for a year - she wanted to live long enough to see her great grandchildren come into the world. My cousins wife and I were pregnant at the same time - two great grand babies - due at the same time!!

The chemo was taxing on her I know - but it had to be ten times worse for my mother. She worked nights, cared for grandma during the day, and then tried her best to keep me sorted out with my myriad of pregnant teenager issues.

That had to be the hardest year my mother ever went through.

Once my daughter arrived my grandmother seemed content. Photos of my cousins daughter soon arrived - she was born one week to the day (nearly the hour) after my daughter arrived.

Then grandma started to have problems. She became depressed and suicidal, and it was so hard for my mother to concentrate on school, home, and grandma. So in my second semester of college I took some time off. It was November, and I could use the break from things - so I took care of grandma. I also took care of grandpa, who was not paying attention to his own health, the sicker grandma got.

When my grandmother died - I was at school picking up my grades, and my mother was at school (the other end of town) taking a final exam. My aunt called the school, and I zoomed home. My mother wasn't far behind. I walked into her room, took her hand in mine and told her goodbye. I also checked her pulse and respirations (Paramedic classes, couldn't help it), and called 911. Thankfully, the dispatcher put me through to our fire chief, who I grew up with, and he sent the ambulance out only as a courtesy to me. They left their equipment outside when they came to pronounce my grandmother dead. They knew she was a no-code. I called the funeral home when they left, and made my grandmothers funeral arrangements. My mother and my aunt were in no condition to handle it at the time, after all their mother had just died. It was her 76th birthday.

My mother struggled so hard that year, with me pregnant and only 17, her mother dying, her father struggling with the grief that goes with losing a spouse of 50 years... she had it rough - but she toughed it out, and she made it. She showed me that no matter how hard things seem to be, no matter how much it hurts, no matter what the cost - you have to continue living your life. You have to do things that make you happy, you have to continue to love yourself, and most of all, you have to keep going. One foot in front of the other. Keep your sunny side up. Those are words that were passed from my granddad, to my mom, to me - and now on to my kids. I grew up hearing it - and I say it to myself every single day.

My mother surely taught me how to live life to its fullest, even when you are looking deep despair in the eye. Just keep your sunny side up, and put one foot in front of the other.

I love you mom!

Why I Love My Mother 2

2010-05-06T11:29:00.000-07:00

My mother taught me about being a loving parent, who loved her parents. That's my mom, sitting in her daddy's lap. We were a close-knit family.

I was a teenage mother. I gave birth to my oldest daughter two weeks before my 18th birthday. When my mom found out that I was pregnant, she immediately swung into action. She called my aunts and told them, got the prayer chain and support line going. Then she made appointments with the best OB/GYN in town for my prenatal care. She spared no expense in seeing that her only daughter had everything necessary to have a healthy baby.
I left the high-school I was attending to attend a breakthrough school called LAMP - Lee Adolescent Mother's Program. At the time it was a ground breaking philosophy - allow pregnant girls and new mothers to attend school in a nonjudgemental environment. Where all your classmates understand where you are, because they are right there with you. Once the baby was born you could bring the baby to school with you on the bus! Daycare was provided - breastfeeding was encouraged. Mom's could go in and hang out with their babies between classes, at lunch, during 'life skills classes'. Everything necessary to run a home, from cleaning and cooking to laundry and diaper changing was taught. With a healthy dose of math, science, english, and history. We still had regular classes, but on top of that we had to learn how to be parents.
Some of the girls were lucky like me. They had supportive parents or family and were happy, well adjusted young women. Others - well, others weren't so lucky. The "other girls" the orphaned mommy's as we called them lived in group housing with the nuns of the local Catholic parish. They were well fed, had wonderful housing conditions - usually only 3 girls and one sister per home. Most of the homes were three bedroom, two bath houses on the Catholic campus. We also had a nunnery (right word? dunno - not Catholic).
But the orphaned mommy's had only each other and a sister for support. They formed tight little families, and shared goals, dreams, and life lessons. But they were in so much pain. Their own mothers either abandoned or gave up on them. They were not present to provide support. I only knew one girl who's mother had passed away, and she lived with her mom's sister - who promptly threw her out as soon as she got pregnant out of wedlock.
The rest were throw aways. It was sad, to me, to see these young ladies grow and mature as they did without a parent standing beside them, proud of their accomplishments instead of ashamed of a mistake.
My mother wasn't that way... she saw things as they were. A mistake is a mistake, you accept the consequences, and move on. Make the best of the hand you are dealt. So when she discovered my pregnancy, I was given choices. It was my decision - keep the baby, adopt, or abort. Abortion was out of the question, for me, it was wrong. Adoption sounded like a possibility, but I was my mother's daughter. If she taught me one thing it was to take responsibility for my actions. If I was going to do that, then I needed to keep my child and raise her to the best of my ability. Now, before you say anything - I do not believe that this is the best choice for everyone. It was the best choice for me.
I was able to get my GED - 6 months prior to my scheduled graduation, and start college two weeks after my daughter was born.
I was able to go to school and work, and had child care in the form of my grand parents who lived with us.
I was able to raise my daughter my way, with the gentle guidance and unconditional love and support from my family. My grand parents or mom would watch her only when I went to work or school. Otherwise I was on my own with her.
When my daughter was three months old she came down with colic. She finally grew out of it at five months. For two months of her life my baby screamed uncontrollably from midnight until six am - every blessed night. I was a wreck. I was going to class from eight am until two pm, then to my job as a cashier at the local grocery store from three until eleven. Then home to my baby and sleep... only I still had homework to do. If I was lucky I could get it done just before she woke up at midnight.
Bless my mothers heart, and her dad - they both would take turns getting up with her during scream fits - walking her and stuff so I could sleep two or three hours at least. There were many nights I would wake up in the rocking chair sans baby - only to find her in the hallway looking at pictures with my grandfather - bounce, walk, bounce, walk, bounce, hour after hour.
My mother was always there when I needed her. She supported every choice I made, good or bad. It didn't matter what she thought about things, it mattered to her that I was happy with my choices.
She encouraged me to be the best at whatever I chose to do, and left things at that. Then showed genuine excitement at my accomplishments, and commiserated with me over failures. Unconditionally she loved and supported me through every bad, and stupid thing I pursued all through my life.
Just one more reason why I love my mother!
Why do you love your mom?

Why I Love My Mother

2010-05-05T08:15:00.000-07:00

Today, I am posting about why I love my mother, in the first of several that will be posted this week. With Mother's Day just a few days away, I thought I would give tribute to the most awesome woman in my life.

Meet My Mom: Patrica Johnson (nee Nelson)

That's us, on my third birthday. The year was 1969. Our lives were idyllic for 10 more years.
My mother is the most incredible person I've ever known. She's strong, intelligent, resilient, and loving. She has seen incredible tragedy, more than once, and come through the fire tested, but not burned.
When I was 12 my father who was my mothers heart and soul, was killed in an accident on the job. Three days after my birthday. Heartbroken, crushed, and widowed at 26 my mother took the challenge of raising me alone to heart. She went back to school, and in three short years - graduated with high marks from the Nursing school she attended as an RN. She worked nights, weekends, and overtime to provide a home and life for me. She cared for her aging parents and a whiny teenage girl without batting an eye or one word of complaint. She was my rock, my touchstone, and my heart. We survived the storm of losing my father, then my grandmother, and finally my grandfather. We put countless pets "out of their misery" together. And we ate a lot of ice-cream, punctuated with incredible shopping trips, and girl talk until the wee hours.
We were more than mother and daughter - we were friends and companions too. She taught me how to handle upsets and tragedy, how to cope with losing someone, and how to live life to its fullest. She never let a setback stand in her way.
She was a fierce protector, a loving mentor, and a lively companion. I love my mother! She's awesome and wonderful. She has been my constant source of comfort and inspiration all my life and for that I want to thank her.
Thank you mom, for not being defeated when life through you curve balls. Thank you for showing me that running from your problems is not an option, and that you must look a challenge dead in the eye to master it. Thank you for loving me unconditionally, especially when I did stupid things and made bad choices. Thank you for telling me no, and making me stand on my own two feet - God knows I never would have done it on my own. Thank you for keeping my grandparents close so that I could learn from them and experience the love they had for me. Thank you for standing up for me when I was right, and for making me accept the consequences when I wasn't. You still are my rock, my touchstone, and my heart. Even though we don't talk often enough, I love you! I miss you more than words can express!
Thank you mom, for being my mother!

Le Sigh... or Frustrations of Living with SED

2010-05-04T08:51:00.000-07:00

So, the phone rang this morning... it was Little Man. As some of you know, Little Man is away right now, in the hospital receiving long term treatment for his PTSD, OCD, and other problems. He's been in the hospital since January so, as parents we figure 5 months now, shoot he should be doing really well. Then our world crashes down... With Little Man that happens a lot. I know that I posted our evaluation on Story of a Life the other day, and it sounded promising. However, after this phone call - we're worried again. Frustrated and worried. You see, Little Man has had a really, really rough life. He spent eight years in the prison hell that was his ~~mother's~~ egg donor's house - right along with her crack-addicted boyfriends, lovers, and thieves. In his short 14 years, he's been hospitalized 11 times that we know of. He is paranoid, talks to the voices in his head, and sees things that aren't there. He also believes that everyone in our house and elsewhere is out to get him.
Today's phone call was nothing short of a 30 minute argument with him about what was right and good to do, and what he should avoid. All part of the therapy... but - we're not seeing much more improvement over what it was like before he went.
Everything with him is a frustration - to the point we want to pull out our hair, and scream at the top of our lungs to the Gods - WHY HIM?
Why did our child have to go through the horrible experiences, why does Our Guy have to live with the guilt of coming through the abuse and horror relatively unscathed while Little Man suffers?
Little Man has no self-worth, he feels that everything is his fault, and that he is the reason behind everything that happened to him - if he'd just been born better he wouldn't have gone through what he did...
My frustration stems from the fact that as a mom, I feel like I should be doing more, to help him. I don't know what the hell I'm doing... but I should be doing more of it... Right?! Yeah, that's going to work... NOT.
No matter what you say to LM he still argues that No, he's not a good kid, No, he's not really smart - he just heard that amazing fact somewhere - he doesn't really know it.
As a parent, we pride ourselves in knowing just how to fix things when they go wrong with our kids - and if we can't fix it - we are generally able to find someone who can. In LMs case - this is the biggest misconception we ever had. He's unique and challenging - and has issues that even stump his therapist and doctors daily.
We were terribly saddened by his call today, but not to the point of giving up the hope we have for his restoration. We'll never, ever give up on that - but we're beginning to see the depth of his issues now, and that's scary. The doctors aren't hopeful that he'll ever be "normal" whatever the hell that is. They are, however, hopeful that in time Little Man will be able to function enough to live on his own (in a halfway house or transitional situation), hold a job (with a job coach in attendance), and go to college (again with a coach). These are all bright hopes for someone who just two years ago could not tie their own shoes, or get through a day at school without a major meltdown. So improvement, while slow and painful, is coming.
I think the biggest issue we have as his parents is that we want him home, we miss him terribly, and we can't have that right now - because as his therapist says "He's resistant to therapy and help". In his mind, he deserves to feel the way he does.
We know that this is only temporary, and that in a couple of months LM will be home - but right now, that does not help our feelings and the depth of the hole in our lives without him here. We can only continue to hope and pray that LM will stop resisting and start participating. Therapy right now is his only stop gap too - everything else - school, group, interactions - all improving. His mental state - not so much. Le Sigh....
It's just one of those things that make me feel inadequate as a parent, and that's not a feeling I like. I've had six successes - the other six children are great, four of them grown, two with kids of their own... They've had their problems, but we know beyond a doubt that they'll manage on their own. We're proud of our accomplishments with the rest of the brood - but that is always overshadowed by our seeming failures with Little Man. Thankfully, even the doctors are saying "It is not your fault - you cannot fix this at home". Doesn't make us feel much better, but it's a salve to a mother's broken heart.
So, if you pray - say a prayer for Little Man today. If you don't pray, send some positive energy, thoughts, or love his way - he could use all he can get!
As always - thanks for stopping by!!!

Introductions au deux

2010-05-03T20:10:00.000-07:00

As I said yesterday, I have decided to fulfill the promise I made in one of the first few posts on my blog. Today I am going to introduce the "middle children" of our little pet family. Kitty and Footnote.
Now I know you've met Footnote, on more than one occasion, but this will be his formal introduction...

Footnote the Fearful

Footnote used to look like the photo above - then it got hot. So now he looks like this:

He's quite unhappy with me right now, he is about two weeks post haircut, and now it's starting to grow on him.
Footnote came to us by way of my sister in law. She brought him to us the day we took Little Man to the hospital for PRTF (you can see his story here). He is a very special little guy in our home. He took the place of companion with Our Guy when Little Man went away. He followed him everywhere, slept in his bed, even came to the name "Little Man" for a while. He was a healing balm for Our Guy when he needed him most. Now, he's my shadow, and my posting buddy. He is currently perched on the footrest of the recliner as I write. He's definitely Our Guy and I's special baby.
Which leads to the other "middle child" of our doggie family. Kitty.

Kitty is about the ugliest cute dog I've ever seen. She's Little Man's buddy, and misses him terribly now that he's gone. It's cute. She also has become besties with Footnote, which makes it even cuter!

Pre-haircut cleaning... she loves to clean him up, and lick ears. It's precious when it's the other dogs - not so much when it's you...
So there you have it - 2 more of our lovely pets. Let's see - Now you have met our Grace, Kitty, Footnote, and Magi! Whew... three kids, eight pets, three adults - one house. How do we do it? One day at a time, my friend... one day at a time!

Introductions!

2010-05-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

In going back over my blog today in an attempt to do some "housekeeping", like tags and such (I'm so BAD at remembering tags) I stumbled across some of my introductory posts back when I first started up here. It wasn't that long ago - but it was long enough for me to sleep since then - so I had totally forgotten that I promised more introductions to the family! Specifically, the four-legged children of our home. ;) Thanks to Mindee over at Our Front Door - I found my old intro posts, an the unfulfilled promise!
So - until I run out of pets, I'll be sharing one of my beloved babies with you.
Also, if you haven't met the munchings - please take a look, here! We are a large family, full of love, excitement, and frustration... lots of frustration on some days.
But - again, digressing! Without further ado - I shall introduce you to the Matriarch's of the Family - Magi the Cat, and Gracie the Dog

Magi the Cat

Magi is my sweet, loving, thirteen year old cat. I have had her since I broke up with The Guy and moved to North Carolina 13 years ago. She's opinionated, cranky, and very set in her ways. But I love her dearly, she's a sweet baby - and has been my companion through some very trying and dark times of healing and restoration in myself. She was a touchstone when I needed one, and I will miss her so very much when she is gone.

Magi and Shakespeare, enjoying a nap

She has made friends with my sons cat Shakespeare, and they truly do enjoy their naps in my bed most afternoons. She is a comfortable reminder of how far I've come in my life.

Gracie the Dog

Gracie, or Miss Grace, Graciegirl, or Piggy as we are wont to call her at times, is the indisputable alpha dog of the house. She bosses everyone around and brooks NO dispute. She is tough and strong and mighty and fierce. Also... she weighs 8 lbs soaking wet and can put a 90-lb. boxer/lab mix on his haunches in 2.2 seconds - no kidding. She is the "mama" of the pack I would say. When inside all dogs bow to Grace. She also runs the children, giving them away when they're doing stuff they're not supposed to. If one of them hits the other - she barks, loudly to tell on the aggressor. She never lies, either!

She's about 10 years old, and is starting now to show her age - she moves slower these days, and isn't as able to get up on the chair or couch as in days gone by. We love her, however, we know that the life expectancy of small dogs is not as long as cats or big dogs. So our time with her is growing shorter - she may live to as old as 17, but age is not her friend.

She's a feisty one though, and the first to bark warning when something moves... anything - a leaf, a tree, a dog, a person... her yip seems to say "It's a Thing, It's a Thing, It's a Thing!!! OMG ITS A THING!!

Funny, and annoying, but she keeps us entertained.

So there you have it - top cat, and top dog! Welcome to our little world, hope you can visit often!

Five Things

2010-05-02T09:50:00.000-07:00

Happy Sunday! Today is our final day of rest before the work week begins.
Today I am going to post five things. I'm thinking of making this a weekly thing, so let me know what you think...

Sunday's Five Things - Five things I do that make my teenager hate me.

1. I make my kids do chores. Yep, I said it - my kids do chores. And mean mommy that I am, they do not get monetary compensation for said chores. But, Magimom, what about rewarding good deeds? I do reward them, my kids have their own computers, Xbox game systems, televisions, and games. They have freedom to go with their friends, stay home, or explore our neighborhood. This is their reward. It is also something they don't get to do if their chores aren't done.
2. I am teaching my kids to cook. Even with insolence and irritation at my side, one or both of my teenagers is in the kitchen with me, every night. Sometimes it's Our Girl, with the camera helping me photograph for Hopelessly In Love with Food, other times it's Our Guy learning the art of frying chicken or pork chops. Or even Little Man, when he's home - handing me spoons, getting ingredients, or doing whatever task his emotional state allows. My oldest son knows how to cook, and does so very, very well. This is something I want to instill in all my kids, a desire and love for cooking, along with a basic knowledge that allows them the freedom to experiment and learn new things.
3. I hold my kids accountable for their actions. If they get in trouble elsewhere, at a friends house or school, for example, my kids know that when they get home, they're really in trouble. I don't go by the "one punishment is good enough" philosophy of modern parenting, because for one - schools don't have the authority they once did. Suspend my child for a day, and my child will spend that day doing "extra chores" around the house, cleaning out the litter box, scrubbing the toilets and shower, and basically doing all the "grunt work". I don't allow my kids to spend a day of suspension seated at their computer, talking on the phone, or playing games. They're being punished for an infraction at school, it should not be all fun and games at home! This makes for children who act out at school simply to get suspended and go home to play.
4. You must be throwing up, bleeding, or running a fever to stay home from school. Headache? Here's some Advil, get ready for school. My tummy hurts! Really? I'm sorry, here's some Pepto, get ready for school. I don't feel good. No fever, no blood, no vomit, no way - get ready for school. My children have tried over the years to "fake me out" with varied illnesses from blindness (my personal favorite) to a sore throat. One thing I've learned in 26 years as a mom - children lie. I cannot tell you the number of times I have called the school to say one of my seven children would not be in attendance - to be told oh... well they have a test today that counts for 1/2 of their grade... Therefore at my house, you better be really, really sick before you even ask to stay home.
5. I watch what my kids wear. This is a constant argument for Our Girl and I. She wants to wear cute little tank tops with no bra, or with bra straps hanging out all over, short little dresses that require shorts, tiny shorts that should really be a swimsuit, string bikinis... that sort of thing. Yeah... not happening. Our Guy? His favorite is a pair of cammo pants that he wears every day after school These pants have been known to sneak out of his room while he's at school and wash themselves they get so funky. And he's always trying to sneak out to school in them. We have had so many arguments over the years about clothing - too short, too long (you are ripping the hem our of that $40 pair of jeans!!! Relax, mom, it's the style), too tight, too loose, dirty, or generally not fit for wear. They fight, argue, and scream - but I control what clothing they wear when they leave my house. And yes I do search backpacks and purses, I also look under what Our Girl is wearing when we have a particularly nasty clothing battle.

The point of these things is not to make my children hate me, but to instill in them the following key attributes for healthy adults:

Work ethic
Honesty
Modesty
Self preservation skills

My kids will be able to go out into the world and accomplish much with the skills I have taught them. I will worry less, knowing that they can fend for themselves. They will go to work even when they feel "bad" because I've taught them that it's important. They know how to dress appropriately, and they know that first impressions count for a lot.

If they hate me now? It means I'm doing my job right. It means they're learning, and it means I'm a mom. I can live with that - because at the end of the day - these smiles are all you need to show you've done well:

Happy Sunday!

Friday Muse

2010-04-30T00:00:00.000-07:00

I think that I've had enough sorrow and heartache for one week. So, I'm ending the week on a positive note! Maybe this will become a regular Friday thing.

This week my muse came from the beauty of spring in my yard, colored with the notes of sadness.

I have to remember that even though there is sadness around me, the beauty of spring still abounds. The world is fresh and new. Life is an incredible journey across mountains and through great divides. It is not something to be taken for granted. Life is too short for unhappiness. So - Have a Happy Weekend!

Relationships

2010-04-29T08:04:00.000-07:00

Hmm... relationships. Those things that either make us or break us emotionally.
They're good, bad, in-between. And they can take a toll on us if not carefully tended.
I've been thinking back a lot lately, not really sure why - but possibly just because it's my age, my kids ages, and my grandsons birthday coming up... I feel old - and I'm sorting through the memories, good and bad, in my mind.
I've been spending a lot of time on other blogs, mostly because of SITS and trying to build my readership. Every now and then I come across one that has a very profound effect on me emotionally. It evokes a passionate memory that has lain dormant forever - probably something I didn't even realize I remembered.
In this case - I stumbled across a little blog called He Loves Me, But... and as I sat reading this young womans words, and entire century of my life flooded back. The century in which I was with That Guy. We spent 11 years together. The first two were total bliss, we were young, and stupid, and really had no clue what we were doing, so it was all good. But I grew up, he didn't. But I stayed, and stayed, and stayed.
At first our relationships "hard parts" started with small arguments that barely got off the ground before one of us had apologized and we'd make up and be all good. But, around year three, something changed. He started being more controlling - not allowing me to wear shorts out in public, having fits if my bra showed even a tiny bit under my tank top. Little things, that said - I'm insecure about you, and I don't want other guys to see your assets. By the end of the year, it was no makeup, no skirts, no dresses, no low cut tops, and never ever a bathing suit.
I tolerated it, in the name of love and I moved on with the relationship.
In year four, I got pregnant. Year four was also the first breakup. Before I found out I was pregnant, we broke up, and I left. Moving from our home in Tampa, back to my parents in Fort Myers, 150 miles south. For over a year we didn't speak, didn't see each other, were not even aware of the other.
Then one day in late spring, when my baby was about 9 months old I saw his mother. She took one look at my daughter and knew. She told him. He came to see me. We talked about what had gone wrong in our lives, and we vowed to make it all better and raise our daughter together. We got back together and I moved back to Tampa with my kids.
Year Five of our relationship was fairly smooth, we were reveling in our new found love and couldn't be bothered with trivial issues. But by year six things were back to the way the were before, only now things escalated to an all new level - I was sleeping with every single man I spoke to. I was sneaking out at night to screw around on him... I was doing all these things... and I never even knew it. Seriously... I put up with it because he was a good dad, and when we were good - hot damn we were GREAT. But the bad? Hoooboy... the bad was really, really bad.
In year eight the screaming matches escalated, and I broke his jaw for slapping me.
In year nine, I had a broken nose and chipped tooth.
In year ten, I had a fillet knife held to my throat (blade side away) so hard it left a bruise like a thin chain. My seven year old daughter cried and begged her daddy not to hurt me.
I left the next day, and never looked back.

Often people ask me why I stayed. Why did I let this man control my life in such a way? When did I lose myself? HOW could I put up with it??

Well, I can answer all those questions and many more with just a few simple words. I had no sense of self-worth.

In the ten years of our relationship he slowly and methodically conditioned me to believe that I didn't deserve any better than what I got. After all, if I was a better girlfriend, then he'd be a better boyfriend. It was my fault that I got hit. It was my fault I wasn't allowed to have a job, I might meet someone else.
He lived in terror (although I didn't realize this for YEARS) of me finding someone who would treat me better, so he refused to allow me to have any contact with other people. Sure, we'd hang out with his friends - ONLY if they had a girlfriend/wife who could keep me occupied (read: babysit me) while he partied it up with the guys.
If his friends said anything to him about the way he treated me he defended himself... saying they just had no idea what I was capable of.
If his friends said anything to me about leaving him, or finding someone else, or concern for my well being - I got screamed at, or hit. Somehow, his friends wouldn't feel sorry for me, if I didn't make them... weird. Eventually, he stopped taking me around them - the heat got too bad, they knew he was abusing me, and they didn't like it. But I wouldn't admit it to them, or myself.
I lost a lot of things in that relationship. Things I would give the world to get back. Things I never, ever should have given away to begin with. Starting with my power. I gave him control, out of the goodness of my heart. I did what I was asked, I catered to him like a mom, and I never, ever complained about anything. I conditioned him to take advantage of me. When he realized this, he started doing just that. It started small, and by the time I woke up, it had gotten really bad. I almost DIED. In the name of love.
I woke up, I got out. I got my shit together and I made a new life for myself.
I realized my own value, and the value of my contributions to any relationship. I relearned my own strength. I vowed to never again allow a man to control me.
I vowed never again to get so ingrained in someone else that I lost sight of who I was.
And you know what? It's working. I am a fearless woman. I have the ability to do anything I set my mind to. I am valuable, lovable, and enough. And nobody can take that away from me. Ever.

My Heart - My Soul!

2010-04-28T10:57:00.000-07:00

This, this beautiful chubby baby? This is my heart....
He is my soul, my life, my inspiration, and my muse!

This, my dear readers, is my precious grandson.
Words cannot express how much I LOVE this boy!

Here, he is enjoying his first time on a swing...

It turns out - the swing is much more fun with mommy!
That's my beautiful daughter there with my boy in her lap! Gosh, how my heart leaps at the image - I miss them so!

His first trip to a real pool!

Again so much more fun with mommy!

I must say, I am so very proud of my beautiful daughter and her husband. They're doing the best than can to raise him... and that's all anyone can ask. They're young, and I'm sure they'll make mistakes along the way - heck don't we all?? But this baby - this baby is loved beyond measure!

I love you JJ - your grandma's heart breaks with missing you! You are my heart, my soul, my love!!!

Sadness and Grief

2010-04-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

This morning I awoke to find that a former co-worker's husband committed suicide last night. From the sketchy details I got, she apparently tried to take the gun away from but was unable to.
I am saddened greatly... not because I knew and liked him - I only met him once at their wedding. I am saddened because he leaves behind a beautiful young wife and son who loved him. I am saddened for the grief I know she feels today. I am saddened because her son will have to grow up without his father. I am saddened that he felt this was his only way out of whatever it was that was bothering him.
Suicide is such an ugly thing. It's hateful, and its deceptively easy to do. Everything seems so out of control, that its easy to pick up the razor blade, pill bottle, or gun... it seems the only thing you can do.
Suicide leaves those left behind wondering what happened... what could I have done differently to stop this. In this case, my friend did everything she knew to do - she called 911, she tried to get the gun away, and I'm sure she cried, begged, and pleaded with him to reconsider. She will unfortunately have to live with that image for the rest of her life - the one in which the man she chose to spend her life with decided he wasn't worth the life he was given... The one in which the father of her baby couldn't chase away the demons long enough to enjoy the rich and wonderful life they were building together...
She's also left with guilt - guilt over not being able to do enough to help him, or stop him.

Please remember, sometimes your friends or family are coping with things you don't know about. Sometimes, when the lights go out and they're all alone the demons come to play. Sometimes they can't just say no to the demons. They may not reach out, they might feel they're a lost cause, or they might just think you don't care. Reach out to someone today, just to say you love them, are thinking of them, are praying for them, or that you just want to see how they are. Keep tabs on those you love, let them know you love them, give them a hug - just because.
Remember, you can make a difference in the life of someone you love, just by being there.

Unplugged

2010-04-26T12:38:00.000-07:00

See that...?
<----- Yeah, that... my computer... It stopped working night before last. Oh it worked, in the non-internet related capacity for sure - but otherwise it was a paperweight! Ya'll - we lost our internet in the storms!!! It was horrible! I woke up yesterday morning to find our cable line dangling from a tree precariously close to our car - and yes I was too danged upset to take pictures - also my batteries were dead because I took about 150 million pictures of flowers on the batteries on Saturday - so there was no juice left, and when you're busy trying to keep from being killed while fixing your internet, you just don't have the 15 minutes to spare to charge batteries... so there is no photo of our problem.
But to me it was a HUGE problem... I have two teenagers - who were totally disconnected for two days! Now, don't get me wrong, I feel real bad for all those folks in Mississippi and Alabama, I really do! I mean, I totally do not know what I'd do if I was faced witht he total devastation they have been dealt... it would be mind-blowing for sure.
For me, the storms took on a whole different meaning... they forced me to spend time with my kids... seriously! Since we're a very connected family - three laptops, two desktops, two wireless routers, cable interent, internet telephone, three Xbox game systems and the list goes on - we're techno-advanced around here... unfortunately that makes us totally incapable of interacting without our computers!
We spend hours with our kids playing games on the internet or across the xbox. We have role-play games we play with them via e-mail... and we spend countless amounts of time watching videos, movies or television via the computer and an HDMI cable. We are totally and completely integrated with our computers.
So Sunday was an interesting day around our house... After putting in a call to the cable company about our downed line, we had no clue what else to do.
We played poker, we had a live version of our role-play game, we cooked together, baked a cake, and discussed a lot of stuff. We spent the day listening to "Mom, Dad, What if?" Instead of Mom, Dad "I'm Bored". Not once did we hear the word "bored" and we were even told that they needed a break at one point - too much human interaction!
I love it - we spent the weekend reconnecting with our family and it was nice for a change... I'm thinking of "unplugging" more often!

A few of my favorite things...

2010-04-24T06:57:00.000-07:00

When I was a child, this particular musical was my mother's favorite. She played the sound track all the time, because the only way to see it was when they put it on television, once a year as a week long mini-series. I love this song - and every spring, it gets stuck in my head and I can't get rid of it!
So, today it's Favorite Things! Enjoy!

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes

Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites

When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad

I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

Have a great weekend ya'll!

Love and such

2010-04-23T07:33:00.000-07:00

Our girl has a boyfriend. Not surprising, she is 16 after all. Oh boy is she 16.

Sometimes 16 looks like this:

Other times... 16 looks like this:

Either way, 16 is a tumult of emotions, experiences, and divine enlightenment.

Girls handle it so much differently than boys. When my oldest son, who is 22 now, was 16 he handled it with grace and dignity. No crying over spilled milk - if a girl didn't like him, well then it was just a matter of time until he found one who did like him and he was willing to wait. Now, at 22, he's well adjusted, had his heart broken a couple of times, and is willing to wait until SHE comes along. It's all good...

But our girl? Oh no! Not her... She can't wait to settle down with the boy:

Now, in said boys defense, he's a good guy. He's small town boy next door good guy. He's willing to go the extra mile for her, and is convinced she's the only girl he'll ever love. Sad, no?

Now, I'm all for "Young Love". I think it's wonderful and sweet - and that it has a very special place in the growing up years for a girl. However, I am also a proponent of "Living Life to its Fullest" and a serious relationship at this stage in life is not allowing her to do that. I'm worried that she'll settle for "good enough" when better - much better is possible.

There are plenty of indicators that this young man is not the one we'd prefer she settle down with for the long haul... He's got some anger issues - which causes him to snap at her from time to time, but of course, that matches fairly well with her bi-polar mood swings... lord help us all if they ever snap at the same time - I'm pretty sure it would make Hiroshima look like child's play...

He's also not so bright... She is incredibly intelligent - I mean, four year college academic scholarship bright, seriously... She's beautiful... More proof:

He's good looking, but certainly not the kind of damn fine sexy that needs to be on her arm.

She has dreams, goals, and aspirations... he wants to get married and have kids and work in a plant for the rest of his life.

She wants big city, bright lights, and a stellar career...

He wants to get married, have kids, and work in a plant for the rest of his life.

We thought, well - moving will help... She'll be far enough away that visits will have to be thoroughly planned, and he won't be able to just drop by whenever he wants; that makes it easier for us to encourage her to meet new people and go places with them. But no the boy wants to follow us to Chattanooga. He's talking about getting a job and an apartment there... Of course we advised our daughter that under no circumstances would she EVER leave the house alone with him again if that were the case - there is no way I'll let my 16 year old daughter go to a guys apartment for a date - I mean that's just asking for her to give me grandchildren NOW.

I'm scared this boy is going to screw up her future. I don't want her to settle, like I did, for second, third, or even fourth best. I want her to have it all - but I want her to wait and not just settle on the first boy she's managed to keep for a year... Not hinge her entire life and existence in this great big world, with one boy from a small town, that's only going to hold her back in the long run.

As a mom, I see the big picture - I've been down the road shes on, and it sure does look good from where she stands. She's got it all figured out! She's in love with the "man of her dreams" She knows what career path she wants to follow (although I think she's settling for something not so great, because he'ls threatened by her true passion). She knows when she wants to have kids, and how many she wants, and all the things all 16 year old girls just know they want when they are grown.

I worry that he's going to intentionally get her pregnant, because he thinks that then we'll go ahead and let them get married and start playing house with a baby... not gonna happen.

All in all we just really want her to be happy, and we know in our hearts that this relationship... this boy... is not going to be the one that makes her happy all her life. We can only hope, that time proves our friend and she outgrows him soon!!!

Stress and stuff

2010-04-19T18:20:00.000-07:00

Its started... the stress that comes with moving and packing and clearing out the clutter...
It is funny how we thought we would buy this house, settle in this town, and stay here forever just two years ago. The house was too full then... and now, 2 years later we have even MORE stuff to deal with. I don't know what we'll do with all the stuff we're getting rid of - I guess we'll have to sell it. There is too much to take with us, it's just not going to be possible.
Then I worry about our dogs - we have 5 and we love every one of them like family... two of them are huge, three are tiny... finding a rental willing to take on that many dogs isn't going to be an easy task... hopefully something will come up and be right for us.
I'm worried that I won't find a job, and that I won't be able to get to and from work when and if I do find a job. Now that PJ has changed schools, we have to take her and pick her up every day, so me taking the car and going to look for work isn't going to be possible until the kids are out of school in late May... but that should still give me plenty of time to get the things I need to do around here done, so that maybe, just maybe we can sell our house.
Of course, if the house doesn't sell, we're going to have to stay here and tough it out anyway, and I'm not sure how that's going to happen. We can't find jobs here, and the unemployment going to stop in a few weeks, and when it does, we're pretty well screwed.
SIGH....
I hate thinking too much - it makes me crazy
For tonight, I think I'll go eat one of these: http://thepioneerwoman.com/tasty-kitchen/recipes/breads/lucky-four-leaf-clover-rolls/ and forget about it for a while!

High School

2010-04-16T15:43:00.000-07:00

I went to school for 5 years at a private Christian school in Florida. I'm not naming names in this blog - simply because I want nothing I say to reflect negatively on my Alma Mater. It was a wonderful education, and a fine institution, where I made friends, good friends - that I still speak to today. THAT is what this post is about.

I've reconnected with some friends on Facebook recently, that I thought I would never, ever hear from again. When my dad died in 1979, my mother made the prudent decision to move back to Florida, from our home in Tennessee. The place held too many memories, and my dad's whole family was in Florida, and we needed family. So we moved to Florida. I was behind in school because my dad died right in the middle of my seventh grade year, and I missed a LOT of school. So, when we arrived in Florida my aunt suggested a school she knew of. It was private, and Christian, and guaranteed to get me caught up to, and probably ahead of (by miles) my peers. So Tennessee country girl, used to horses, dogs, woods, trucks, and mechanic work with my dad became South Florida beach girl... ya'll I have to say - at first I didn't fit in... but slowly, slowly I began to make friends. I was a great talker, and generally friendly... my daddy said I'd never met a stranger. I made friends, and we had five great years together. But, being a teenager, and following rules don't go hand in hand... and I was a cause without a rebel... or is that the other way around??? Hell I don't know, I was young, and stupid. I decided that didn't like rules, and I really hated the rules the school was imposing on us. So, I ~~begged~~ manipulated my way out of the private school and re-entered the public school world I had not seen in five years. It was, to say the least, a shock to my system. I excelled academically because of the wonderful education in private school. Socially, I was 'everyone's friend' but nobody's friend at the same time... I don't keep in touch with anyone I hung out with during that time in my life, except my private school friends that I still hung out with, and family. Flash forward 26 years to today...
I see their posts on Facebook all the time, and most all my old schoolmates seem to still be close, and inclusive. This is something that the school was famous for, close-knit relationships throughout the grades. There weren't any cliques to speak of... everyone was friends with everyone else for the most part. I often wondered over the years what happened to my friends and where they were now... and now I do! I found both girls I considered "best friends" when we were in school, girls that were there no matter what choices I made, and no matter what happened. They were true friends... but something else I've noticed, everyone of the people on my friends list that I went to school with is accepting, approving, loving, and nonjudgmental. No matter what I say, what I post, share, or photograph. They're supportive of what I do, no matter what it is. These are good people. Not just your run of the mill, every day good people, I mean really, really good people. People that even if you didn't know they had faith, you'd assume they were going to heaven, just because they were the embodiment of what we would see in Christ.
I've seen them go through nearly losing a child, breast cancer, job loss, cancer, milestones, and joys. And all across the board there is nothing but love and support offered.
In short, I think I'm saying - surround yourself with the kind of people you just know are good people. Positive people that spread joy and happiness, especially in the face of adversity. These are the kind of people that you need in your life, they infuse you with joy, happiness, and passion for life in every contact. Surround yourself with the kind of person you want to be. Eventually they're attitudes and passions become contagious and you can't help but be more like them.
This is what makes life worth living!

Opportunity

2010-04-13T07:30:00.000-07:00

Opportunity - 1 : a favorable juncture of circumstances
2 : a good chance for advancement or progress *Merriman-Webster Dictionary Online

I like that, a good chance for advancement or progress, yes - I really like that.

In this economy, in this age, we have little opportunity for advancement in our normal course of life. Oh, there are the raises, the perks of our jobs, if we are so lucky as to have jobs. There are the milestones that keep us going, children growing, having birthday's, dates, proms, graduations... those things sustain us... but an Opportunity for true change and the cosmic do-over it implies, does not come often.

Our family has chosen to make one such opportunity for ourselves. We have decided to pull up the stakes of our comfortably paid for home, in a town with little or no work, to return to the precarious life of renting in a town with at the very least 7% more work than where we currently live.

7% really doesn't sound like much - but it's a chance we are willing to take. It is a chance for us to start over in a new place, with new surroundings, and with old friends and family for support, and that's what makes the difference.

Where we live now is drying up, not only economically, but emotionally for us as well. Everyone who supported us here, everyone we were truly 'friends' with were related to the job I formerly held. Those tenuous friendships have held, but barely, through the ensuing ten months since I left the company. I connected with the mother of my daughters friends, and at one time we were inseparable, but our kids don't see eye-to-eye anymore... and our parenting styles seem to be so different now that the girls are older... that it's just not as close as it once was.

We are truly ready to accept this challenge, and move to the next stage of life in these challenging times. We will hope for the best, and work to meet the challenge with open hearts and open minds!

Food

2010-04-12T08:01:00.000-07:00

There is a new post over at Hopelessly in Love with Food in which I talk about the amazing desserts I made this past week from Pioneer Woman's cookbook.
I also talk about my grandmother. Sometime this week, when I get the chance, I'm going to write a post about my grandmother, and what she meant in my life. She was truly an amazing woman, with a lot of guts! She fought cancer on her terms, and while she lost the war, she won important battles.
That's all I have to say about her for now - I've got to go dig up some photos!

Photogenic much?

2010-04-11T08:50:00.000-07:00

Our kids spent a very good portion of the weekend vacation avoiding my camera... the roving eye saw all! I was incessantly behind the lens as the official Chronicler of Family Events.

It's funny how I got the title, the camera was purchased with a tripod for the hubster, because his hands are too shaky for even the auto balancer to keep up with. So, in lieu of all our photos looking like the blob slid across the child just as the shutter snapped, I get to take the photos... which means I get looks like this:

Or this...

But no matter what look they're giving me, they're exceptionally photogenic kids, at least I think so!

Even though they hate the camera, they seem to always have some sort of smile or something for me... it's kind of nice to know I haven't driven them completely insane with my one eyed monster!

Of course my favorite part is catching them off guard... I have to work on that, something about the camera protruding from my forehead tips them off... every stinking time!

Much to do... little time to do it in

2010-04-09T07:01:00.000-07:00

Hmm... looks like a typical to do list doesn't it? Well, in a way it is - it's the Spring Cleaning list... and something more too:

That's the other list... the one that clearly defines what this is really all about.

We're moving...

View Larger Map

Yep - to Chattanooga, Tennessee!

You see, I grew up there - well in a suburb called Harrison Bay. It was God's country to me, and somewhere I have missed with all my heart and soul. For years I've gone and visited and cried every time I had to leave. This was always home to me - I think in a way it's because that was the last place I had my Daddy alive. That's where we lived when he died - to me he's real when I'm there. That comforts me.

It also puts me closer still to my mother and aunt. Not a whole lot closer, but closer nonetheless.

Shawn's sister is there, and my best friend since childhood too. Along with a lot of special memories. Things I want desperately to share with my children. So... we're putting the house on the market - and we're moving as soon as the kids get out for summer break...

The next chapter in my blog will be the wonderfully insane process of packing up six years of living... Things will have to be pared down, and weeded out - we brought so much junk with us to Georgia, simply because we had to move so quickly. This time, we're going to weed things out, get rid of stuff that we don't need and keep only the necessities and stuff we absolutely cannot live without.

The kids took the decision very well, and are actually excited about the prospect of moving to the mountains!

Family Vacation 2010

2010-04-08T09:08:00.000-07:00

We just spent four wonderful days in the mountains of Tennessee at my sister-in-laws house. It was a totally relaxing weekend, and something this family needed. All of us felt so much better after we got home.

We awoke every morning to this view:

We drank coffee on the deck overlooking this view every morning... it's fabulously beautiful, peaceful, and so very relaxing!

The tree in this photo is so large that it would take at least four grown men to put arms around it and touch fingers.
It has to be over 200 years old - its a white oak and it is phenomenal!

These flowers are growing in the front yard. So pretty!!!

The kids got along well for a change - they actually smiled!!!

We all managed to work out some communication issues that have been going on, and everyone actually enjoyed themselves. Even when were cooped up in the house together and not going anywhere.

Of course there was me:

The Constant Chronicler of Family Events

THIS is how I spent the weekend! Heeheee... Lots of neat photos of the tree:

This is just one of the primary branches - we have trees in our yard that's trunks are smaller! Amazing!

A view looking up through the branches of the monster oak tree!

All in all it was a wonderful time, and something we won't soon forget - in fact, it's something we plan to take advantage of as often as possible! Something big is coming for our family - something that's going to make a huge difference for us! Look for the exciting news soon!

One of THOSE days!

2010-04-01T18:17:00.000-07:00

Today started out like any other, really it did.... but before long I realized that I was not going to accomplish anything I planned today.
First, my son needed my 2008 AGI for his financial aid application for college - go figure - I haven't filed that return yet... why? Well, simply because they owe me money, and I haven't had the time or inclination to do so... This is not usually a problem as I can lay my hands on pretty much every Form W-2 I've ever gotten... but wouldn't you know when he needed it it wasn't there... So... I quickly logged on to my former employer's payroll site to print it out... Oops, I've been gone too long to access it. Now I need to call them - no phone number in sight! So, after my son got off the phone with his enrollment counselor, I finally found my termination paperwork that had the phone number. I called got the W-2 and thought - Whew - stress done! I can deal with that and go back to working on my bracelet project for the weekend trip.
Queue the phone... school, Oh lord - this can't be good! It is our daughter - she's decided she wants to come home because her teacher is acting like... get this - A TEACHER! 10 minutes worth of arguing later - she is staying at school, and I've got to get this bracelet done... after I get the laundry on the line.
So, I head to the washing machine to take the load of sheets I washed last night out to the clothesline... only to find them SOAKING in the tub... WTF?
So I fiddled with dials and knobs and tried to get it to drain, nothing... no spin, no drain... DAMN! Now, for some people this might not be a problem, but for me this is tantamount to a major catastrophe... there are five people living here - two of them teenagers! Our daughter changes clothes no less than three times on any given day, and our son, well - let's just say his clothes walk to the washer and help themselves to a bath about once a month...
Not to mention the sheer volume of unwashed blankets and stuff from winter that I refuse to wash because I can't hang them out on the line... that is saved for spring cleaning. Everyone in our house has at the very least three blankets at the beginning of winter. As long as they stay off the floor, they last through the season until wash time comes again. I refuse to pay exorbitant electric bills to dry a comforter for two hours when it takes about 30 minutes on a nice day in April. So I've got a LOT in my laundry room right now... this is NOT amusing.
Hubsy was gone to the tax office to file our homestead exemption that our town had not funded for the two years prior, and it had to be done today, or we'd rack up another $2,000 tax! He also had to dispute the assessed value, since they've got it listed at TWICE what we paid for it... so he's not here and I have no clue how to get all the water out of there!!!
I removed all the sheets and stuff - geez that's some heavy lifting... and had them in a basket draining into the machine when he got home.
Good news! We don't have to pay the entire tax bill this year, we just need to pay half of it and the house won't be auctioned off! BUT the washer is still broken.
So off we go to see about a new (read - new to me or used) washing machine that's within our budget to purchase. Of course the first place we stop has none, because apparently this 'cash for clunkers' thing the government is doing for appliances requires that the old appliance be destroyed?!?!? WTF? So we head out to the other shop down the road... We walked in the door, told Joe what we needed, and he said "What would you like to pay?" WOW! So for $150 we got a washing machine that not only matches our dryer, but is actually the top of the line for that particular model year! It's a whirlpool and has more bells and whistles than my DVD player!
So Joe says it'll be here by 5, so off we go to Walmart to pick up dinner, and a few things I needed to make dessert for our weekend away...

We get home, and pull the old washer out - only to discover the floor under it is soaking wet, mold is growing up my wall, and one of the pipes is leaking everywhere!!!
Queue pissy teenaged girl! PJ wants to know if she can go out with her boyfriend a second time this week, since she won't get to see him all weekend... Now, she not only went out last night (our rule is one night out, home by 9 and one night he can come over till 9) she was out till 10 (with permission), and was 5 minutes late at that! I told her no, and was then blamed for ~~intentionally not remembering~~ forgetting it was Wednesday instead of Thursday. Much door slamming ensued, and she complained for about an hour... UGGH - this is not my day.
So... off to Lowes we go - to get new plumbing for the whole damned mess! $32.00 later we get home, and move the washer out, only to discover that it's been leaking out the bottom - for I don't know how long! Lord, the darned thing was worthless anyway so I guess it was only a matter of time!
So... now the new plumbing is in, the new washer is working great, my son was accepted to college, and my daughter has stopped hating me... for now anyway - I think I'm ready for a nice hot bath and my bed!

Living with SED

2010-03-31T08:29:00.000-07:00

This is part II of my ongoing series - Living with SED. To see what came before - see Part I.

We seemed to sail through the first two years the boys lived with us - things weren't bad, but they really weren't all that good either. I grew resentful, and tired.
Let me explain a little about that first, so you don't go thinking I'm just one of those moms...
In 2005 my other half injured his back, at the time we lived in North Carolina. I was offered a job in Georgia in July, and we moved here at that time. Once we relocated, I worked about 60 hours a week during tax season from December until April. After a year or two I moved up, took a salary position, and worked 60-80 hours a week, all year long. Through all of this, Shawn was in so much pain and on so many pain killers that it was hard for him to do much. He was able to prepare light meals, do some laundry, and help with homework and stuff, but that was about it - the bulk of everything was on my shoulders.
The year after the boys came to live with us, Shawn was admitted to Miami Jewish Hospital's Rosomoff Pain Clinic. This was after two surgeries - the first a simple discectomy, the second a more radical full fusion from S1 to L4. Neither of them worked and we were looking at a 95% disability rating. Until his insurance company decided to try Rosomoff... and sent him down there for a month. During that month I did it all - laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning, getting kids up and ready, weekend stuff, everything fell to me. Of course I had a sitter, and worked fewer hours at work, and more at home. But it wasn't easy, and again my best friend, bless her heart, saved my butt more than once.
They flew me to Miami to attend his "graduation" from the therapy program, and we flew home together at the end of his stay. It was summer break and we were doing OK... but I was exhausted.

Things moved along and the summer turned to fall, the kids returned to school. Fall turned to winter and Christmas. It was during this time that I was gripped with an unshakable bout of pneumonia. I was deathly sick and in bed until almost April. I worked about six hours a day during the entire illness. At one point, the doctor threatened to hospitalize me to keep me from working. During all this time, I was also trying very hard to maintain the house, while my dear other half, who had been bedridden up to this time, continued to stay by my side. Let me repeat - I was in bed, and he was by my side. Continuously. He didn't do laundry, cook, or clean except minimally. I was still trying to put in a full 40 at work and do the minimum to keep the family going on my own. Now, to give him credit so you don't all think I'm insane... He tried, he really, really tried. But when he got home from the hospital, I pretty much stopped doing most things. I left him with the chore of laundry, and didn't give him firm ideas of how it was done - so when a size L ladies sweater turned into a 2T sweater because he dried it instead of blocking it - I would lose it. Not that it was his fault, but that it happened to begin with. I loved that sweater! But the little things added up to big things, and because I was so sick, and on so many medications, my mental facilities were not what the normally are - and I became resentful.
When I got back on my feet - minimally, I returned to the workplace, leaving him with EVERYTHING to do at home, because by the time I got home, I was exhausted from trying to work sick. It was unfair to him, and the children, but I wasn't thinking clearly - months of mass doses of steroids will do that to a person.
So, in February I decided to strike out on my own. For 5 miserable months we lived in separate houses. In March, Daniel had a mass meltdown at school. He threw himself away... literally, and they could not retrieve him from the garbage can. He just wouldn't let go and get out. By law, they were required to report this to the Crisis Intervention Team at his doctors office. Daniel was swept away in an ambulance and taken to the hospital for evaluation. The doctors did the evaluation, and decided he needed to be hospitalized for stabilization... I felt guilty... very, very guilty. So much so that I tried calling him every day - and every day he hung up on me saying I didn't want him. I cried myself to sleep at night as I realized that my decision to be "stress free" had caused this child so much heartache and pain.
By May I had realized the errors of my ways, and that I was truly, madly, deeply in love with their dad... and I didn't WANT to live without them in my life. So I began the process of repairing our relationship.
Daniels hospitalization didn't last long, and he was returned to his dad, a Zombie... by an orderly - without any medical advise from the staff of the facility... just - here's your son... have a nice life. It was then that we understood the lack of appropriate care for our child, and we began to take steps to help him.

This is part II of an on going series about Living with SED - stay tuned for part III.

Teenagers!

2010-03-28T11:20:00.000-07:00

If you had said to me 8 years ago - Hey, would you like three more young children to raise up into adults? My polite but rapid response would be not just no, but hell no!!! However, in most cases you don't pick who you fall in love with, and you certainly cannot choose to love a man with kids, if you don't love the kids too.

Fast forward 8 years to 2010 and see my life now... I have 3 children ages 26, 22, and 19... and I have three wonderful step-children ages 16, 15, and 14.

Notice the difference, my kids all had a couple of years between them. When the oldest was 16, the youngest was 11, and the middle child was 13. That was easier. The problem here is they are all going through the exact same stage at the same time... and it's making me insane!

Our dear daughter is working toward becoming and independent woman. She's doing a great job of it, all while making me crazy. She is dating a young man who is 18 almost 19 and he's a great guy - but he's got ideas about things... something we try very hard to keep our kids from having. (not really, please don't flame me) He has a job, a car, and a life outside of his home. He wants our daughter to have a job, a car, and a life outside of her home. We are not prepared for that... We are not ready for her to go to work and have her grades suffer for it. We're not ready to take the chance on wrecking a car, and we're certainly not ready for her to have a life away from us.

But as adults we know that she needs these experiences to become an adult. As parent's we worry that she'll follow the wrong lead, or go with the wrong person, and something awful will happen - even though we've taught her better. Because, inherently we don't trust ourselves. We doubt that we've done our jobs right, because as a teenager, well, she still makes mistakes. She still chooses the wrong thing sometimes. However, if we keep her sheltered, and don't allow her to make those mistakes, then well - we're doing her a disservice, how will she learn if we don't allow the lesson.

On the other hand, our son Seth, would like nothing better than to sit behind the computer screen on roleplay forums, or in chat all day every day. He makes straight A's in school, but is minimally available at home. If you ask for something to be done (his laundry, dishes, bathroom cleaning) he either does it half-assed, or not at all. Or it turns into an argument that lasts for hours. While one of the most loving and peaceful children I've ever met, he is also one of the most insolent and lazy. He gets an attitude if you ask him to take his dog outside... ahhhh memories, I have a 22 year old sleeping on my couch while he finishes college that was the same way at 15... without the insolence.

He is a responsible young man, when he wants to be. He is mature beyond his years but he also has his daddy's temper. Which means when he gets mad... he gets mad.

Our youngest son, is the one that bothers me the most. Not because he's special needs, but because there is nothing I can do as a mother to help him. All we can do is love him from afar... his hospitalization breaks our hearts, but we know that it was the only way. We deep down know that he is great hands, getting better care than he ever has... but it's hard on us knowing that we his parents could not do what needed to be done. It's depressing. But then we look at the point that we did do what needed to be done - we reached out to his doctors, and took their suggestions at hand, and they recommended hospitalization.

Teenagers are exasperating, aggravating, and unnerving. They make parents cringe and cry... but they are the final stage to adulthood, and a direct reflection of us, as parents. We are proud of all of our kids, and sometimes we don't tell them enough...

So today, I challenge you, no matter what the task, big or small - tell your kids you're proud of them today!

Living with SED

2010-03-27T13:23:00.000-07:00

SED? What the heck is SED? You may ask... Well - SED stands for a lot of different things, but in my life it has one meaning, and one meaning only - Severely Emotionally Disabled. As I have detailed in my The Story of a Life blog, our son Daniel is "Severely Emotionally Disabled". For most parents that means little, and certainly for me, until I met Daniel, it held little meaning. I conjure images of crying jags, and children unable to cope with simple emotions. Unfortunately, SED is a very real, and very devastating disorder. It clouds the very processes a child uses to function. Simple actions such as tying shoes, getting dressed, or washing a glass are all reasons for a "meltdown" (a term used in the mental health field to describe what parents of neurotypical children might call temper tantrums). While a 'neurotypical' child may simply cry and thrash about a bit - a meltdown for an SED child is a totally disabling thing.

Children with SED typically show symptoms such as an inability to learn - not a learning disability but a learning inability that cannot be justified by sensory, health or other factors.
These children also have little to no ability to bond with others... peers, teachers, siblings, or parents. This becomes evident as young as three to five years old. And can be heartbreaking for a parent who up to a certain point believes their child is "normal".
There is plenty of atypical, inappropriate behavior, sometimes taking the shape of highly sexualized conversation, or loud outburst of nonsense at inappropriate times.
Then there are the scary symptoms: depression, unrealistic fears, and paranoia to name just a few.
The Factoids website has this to say: The term ‘emotionally disabled’ does not apply to all children who have social problems, but does so if they meet one or several of the above criteria. The population of students in the United States that have an emotionally-disabled label is around one percent and even though the percentage is low, most mainstream teachers will have some encounter with a child that fits into this category even if they are not identified officially. These children will have severe academic or social frustration and will often become discipline problems for not only the classroom but the school community as a whole.
One thing I do know as a parent... you cannot prepare for life with an SED child. Each child brings a different set of emotional and social skills to the table, and no matter how much you think you know these children never behave as prescribed, and you can never tell just how they will react. Simple situations become land mines on the side of the road. Sometimes you get lucky and avoid the mine, and just as you are breathing a sigh of relief... BAM the explosion occurs. That explosion can be anything from a sobbing fit, to a full on kicking, screaming, biting, throw-yourself-in-the-floor fit. Leaving the parent to swim in the wake of raw emotions, disbelief, and in many cases shame.
You've all seen the mom in the store with the 8-year old that acts as if he's three, screaming at every turn, and acting out... and you've all (as I have) rolled your eyes and said under your breath "Not my child" or "What is that mother thinking", or even "someone should just tear his butt up"... What you may not know, is that mother has spent the last two years of her life begging doctors to help her child, going from therapy to group session, to doctor, to therapist, to psychologist.... and nothing works - nothing helps, and nobody cares.
This is the life of the parent of an SED child. In some cases, the parent just gives up, and the child looses their shot. In other cases, help comes too late, and they lose their child in the myriad of foster homes, institutions, or juvenile facilities. In still other cases, a miracle happens, and someone who cares shows the parent the way.
No matter the situation, no matter the child, or parenting style, SED is a tragic and inexplicable beast. One that no parent wishes to confront, but one that many parents face daily.
In our situation, Daniel was subjected to eight years of what amounted to ritual abuse. He was molested, beaten, starved, and deprived. He was hospitalized for "stabilization" no less than five times in one year. His educational needs were met at a small special needs facility, that preferred to put him in isolation than help him discover coping skills. His biological mother preferred the company of boyfriends and fellow drug addicts to that of her children. Daniel and his older brother spent countless hours each day locked in a small 8X10 bedroom in a filthy trailer. Little was offered in the way of comfort, and often food had to be stolen from the kitchen when she was not looking in order for them to get a meal.
It is still a mystery how children in identical circumstances can turn out so differently. Seth is the model child... he makes straight A's, he makes friends readily, and is the most loving child you may ever meet. His biggest flaw? Anger issues - go figure!
Daniel is his polar opposite, he is failing most classes, has an inability to cope with simple stressors, has few social skills, and fewer friends. He is an adorably endearing child, no one that has met him has failed to fall hopelessly in love with his sweet freckled face. He has a fantastic imagination, is incredibly intelligent, and unfortunately is locked away in his own mind most of the time.
When we first obtained custody of the boys, we had no idea what was wrong with Daniel. His mother described him as having "hyper-motive" seizures... Go ahead on over to Web MD and look that up... I'll wait

Yeah, I couldn't find it either - not even in a Google search... you can't find them, because there is no such thing.
Daniel was SED - but we were yet to find this out.
We had experience with emotional issues, our daughter PJ is bi-polar, and has been medicated since she was seven. We knew the ins and outs of that and knew how to deal with her mood swings. We were not prepared for what came to us with Daniel.
Our first indication that something was really, really wrong with our son, occurred during his first week at our house. It was summer, and all the kids were outside... one second all was well, and the next PJ is screaming and holding Danny. We rushed out to see what had happened only to find that he had attempted to throw himself in front of a moving vehicle, and if his sister had not been as quick as she had, our story would end here.
This incident was followed by a visit from the local police, Daniel had thrown driveway rock at a passing van, in which a child slept, in a car seat - next to an open window. When the situation became clear both to the police and the other parents, we were admonished to keep him in the back yard, and all was forgiven.
There were two other suicide attempts in those first months, once at home and once at a friends house (bless her heart) where he found a leash, tied it around his neck, and threw himself off her trampoline, 4 feet off the ground... Thankfully the leash had enough slack that he only sat down on the ground with no pressure on his neck.
We knew something serious was going on and even though he had a scheduled appointment a month in the future - we rushed him to PJ's psychologist for an emergency appointment. He was considered at high-risk and placed on the first of many psychotropic cocktails.
We home-schooled the kids their first year with us. PJ had been having trouble at school anyway, and we had pulled her out homeschooling with success. I decided that it couldn't be too difficult to add two more students to my tiny classroom that functioned from 6-9 pm each weekday, with field trips and other lessons on the weekend to fulfill our requirements for hours-of-instruction.
It soon became evident that most subjects were lost on Daniel. He excelled in history and science, but math, English, and reading were beyond him. And we won't even bother to discuss writing. He insisted he could not read, yet managed a few sentences each lesson, however he was not learning at the same pace as his siblings.
When school time came around again, we decided to see what our school system offered in the way of special education to give him every advantage. It was also a means of self-preservation for us... for any who have tried this know... home-schooling three children is difficult, home-schooling three children, while working full time and trying to maintain a home with a disabled spouse is virtually impossible. We never got a break. In the first two years we had the boys we went out to dinner once. We saw one movie at the theater, and we never, ever left them with anyone other than my oldest son or my best friend...
It was harrowing, heartbreaking, and totally exhausting.
Our school system has a special education program that rivals a lot of others. While it's not perfect, no school is - it offers a special program in mainstream schools for kids like PJ and Seth, as well as a closed educational center for children like Danny. So we started the school year with each child in a different school. Danny at the ed center, Seth at a public elementary school in a closed program, and PJ in public middle school.
By the middle of the first term it was evident that Seth was not yet ready for mainstream anything. He was moved to the center with Danny at the first opportunity - after he attempted to stab his teacher with a pencil for making him do classwork.
By the middle of the school year, PJ proved incapable of handling regular school and was moved to another middle school and a closed program, where she met Mrs. Beck - the single most incredible teacher I've ever met. She's tough as nails, takes NO crap, and loves each of her students as her own child. She is a special lady, doing increidible work, and she changed our daughters life. School was suddenly something PJ could not wait for, she agonized long weekends waiting to go back. During this time Seth displayed a remarkable ability to control himself, and by the end of that year was ready to return to mainstream school in a closed setting. Danny remained at the center... and things moved on for a couple of years.

Note: This is the first installment in a series of posts about Living with SED.

More irresistible cuteness!

2010-03-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

So, I've got to do a little more shameless promotion of our newest little friend.

Doesn't he look handsome?
This little fella scared us to DEATH a couple of times this past week - every time we touched him he would just scream bloody murder... so after much back and forth and whining - we decided that we would have to take him to the vet... we're used to BIG honking monster dogs around here... not tiny delicate purse puppies...

So off to the vet we went yesterday... and $77 later - what do we find out??? The dog is a hypochondriac! There was NOTHING wrong with him! He did have some extra long dew claws, that he might possibly have been stepping on when running like the wind through the back yard...

So, we had the nails trimmed and a checkup and flea treatment - we're all set for summer...
Then the vet said that we should NOT stop petting/touching/holding him when he screams unless we KNOW for sure he's really hurt - we're conditioning him to scream when he's unhappy in his situation...
Geez - it's like having a toddler around again - just when did my dog become a child?

100 things about me

2010-03-26T13:03:00.000-07:00

In true blog tradition, the 100 things about me post!

I was born in 1966
My father died in 1978
He died three days after my birthday
I have never gotten over his death
I probably never will
I have been best friends with the same person since 1972
We once went almost 8 years without talking
We immediately picked up where we left off after the drought
I was born and raised in Fort Myers, Florida
My father owned a sailboat named the Questover
My mother gave the boat to my uncle when my dad died
My uncle sailed that boat on the Gulf of Mexico
My grandmother died when I was 19 - on her birthday
My grandfather died when I was 22
Both of my grandparents died in conjunction with the birth of one of my children
My cousin had a baby one week to the hour after I did
My youngest daughter got married at the same age I did the first time
I have been married three times
I have been divorced three times
I do not know if I will every marry again
If I do marry it will be to the man I now live with
Four of my children are not "my" children, but his
We are currently surviving on unemployment
One of my children is severely emotionally disabled and is currently in the hospital
I do not feel guilty about admitting him to the hospital - he needed the help
It is not easy to deal with children with and SED
Most parents have not clue how to handle emotional problems in their children and this bothers me
I always wanted to "make a difference" in peoples lives
I had children - that makes a difference
My grandson is easily my favorite thing in the world
I appreciate my daughter's in-laws more than words can express
My 16 year old stepdaughter is making my hair turn gray
My 15 year old stepson is making my face wrinkle
My 22 year old son is making my ulcer bleed
I want my mommy
I have not seen my mother in over a year
I don't call my mother enough
I have not seen my grandmother (my dad's mom) in 22 years
I don't know if I will before she dies
I have not seen my elderly aunt in five years, although I speak with her regularly
I do not talk to my aunt as often now that ER is no longer on the air
I have five dogs
I have three cats
I don't need any more animals, or children
I could no more part with one of my pets, than I could one of my children
I design and create custom jewelery in my "spare" time
I have nothing but spare time
I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in February of 2008
I was fired from my job in June of 2009 - related directly to my attendance because of my illness
I love to write
I want to write a book one day - but I don't know what to write about
My daughter tells me I should write a book about talking to teenage girls
Apparently my daughter thinks I do this well
I am scared of losing everything in the economic crisis
I may or may not support healthcare reform
I support the reform of programs for Children's Mental Health
I was one half of an exceptionally abusive relationship for 9 years
I am a recovering addict (10 years clean)!
I do not discuss my addiction with anyone
I have demons under my bed, and skeletons in my closet
My third husband was an alcoholic and a meth addict
I didn't know these things until after I married him
We did not live together before marriage...
I am a Christian
I do not go to church often enough
Occasionally my language is more colorful than it should be
I procrastinate
I want to move back to Florida, and cannot convince anyone in my family to go with me
I do not want to leave my family to go "home"
I would settle for moving to North Carolina to be close to my mother
I have trigger finger tendinitis in my left hand making it impossible for me to flip anyone off with that hand
I like flipping people off - this couples with #66 above
I was raised in church
I was a teenage mother
My oldest daughter was born two short weeks before I turned 18
I married the first idiot that asked me
My first husband was a drug addict
We were married only six months
I almost died of double pneumonia
I married my son's father in 1987
We were married for six years
My youngest daughters father died when she was nine
He took her from me and hid when she was seven
I did not see or speak to my daughter for 11 years
She found me when she was 18
I have never been happier at an event in my life
I miss my kids who live far away
My daughters live in Florida - which is an even better reason for me to return there
I want to be close to my grandson
My son is getting ready to FINALLY go to college - at 22
My oldest daughter has been with the same boy since her sophomore year in high school
They are not married - and have no children
I have a mean streak a mile wide
I have a quick temper - and a very short fuse
I get over it quickly
I yell... a LOT
I don't cry often - but when I do... its a gully washer
I want my children to have an easier life than I did
I don't know that my youngest daughter will ever have that - and it makes me sad
My family is my life - and I love them dearly

Dumbfounded... at least

2010-03-26T12:18:00.000-07:00

As I've stated before, I love blogging, and I love bloggers. Today I was tooling about the internet searching for new mommy/daddy/parenting blogs to check out when I stumbled across this gem of a blog. The Bean Blog is written by the mom of five kids, who not only works full time, but attends school part time. But it wasn't so much the overall theme of the blog that grabbed me and sucked me in... it was the first post I read that got me... The post is titled "In an Instant" and it's profound to parents of all walks of life - to any parent, any where, at any time... it deals with death - specifically the death of a child. A beautiful 16 year old girl, taken too soon, causes unknown.
The post got me to thinking... What would I do if I lost one of my kids... how would I react? Devastation does not even begin to describe the emotions that come to mind. Christine put those thoughts into words in a way I probably cannot do justice...
But I totally have to say my piece... or at least try.
I lost my dad when I was 12... I know how I felt as a child losing a parent. I could not imagine if those circumstances were opposite.
I know that we had a very close call with my son when he was just 18 months old... a common cold turned into double-pneumonia in the middle of the night, and I was horrified. It was the first time one of my children was hospitalized...I was 22 and had NO clue what I was going to do. I sat by his bed for the entire 48 hours he was there - alone. I had noone to comfort me, no body to take a turn at his bedside so I could eat, shower, sleep, or even pee. I did not complain, but I did pray. Constantly - I begged God not to take my only son... I bargained, I plead, and I cried. Still I don't know what I would have done had he not made it...
All I know now, is that I appreciate my kids more because of that one experience. I also know that losing my dad at a young age - and my DH losing his mother at a young age - profoundly affected the way we interact with our children. We are a huggy-feely type family. Our kids KNOW beyond the shadow of a doubt that we love them, we tell them all the time. We hug them, kiss them, and embarrass them, even in front of their friends...because we know the guilt that goes along with losing a parent... Did he know I loved him? Did I say good bye? What did I do wrong? Does this mean he didn't love me?
I thought all those things and more when my father passed away - and I don't ever want my children to wonder if I know they love me... I know - beyond a shadow of a doubt, that deep down, all seven of them love me deeply and would be devastated beyond belief if I died tomorrow. However, this still does not give me anything to go on in response to how I would feel if one of them dies before me.
Its not something that I want to think about as a parent... I want to stick my head in the sand and say "It can't happen to me" and pray that it never does... Even so - I will never be prepared...
As Christine reminds us in her post - love your kids... keep them close, hug them daily, and never, ever, let them forget how much you love them.

Part Three - The tales of Childhood

2010-03-26T11:12:00.000-07:00

So few things are memorable when you are little. Oh, I know we all THINK we truly remember things that happened to us when we were small - but few of us truly do. My earliest "memory" is that of a very large rattlesnake outside on our porch when I was but three. I was precariously perched on a chair with tiny fingers straining to reach the latch, when my mother, who was outside hanging clothes on the line, saw me and the snake - at the same time.
As a mom, I can only imagine her horror as she saw her tiny girl about to make the mistake of her life. Mother screamed for my grandma, who had just walked into the kitchen to find me teetering on the brink of success in my escape. She snatched me off the chair as my mother burst through the front door in a panic. A snake on our back porch!!! She almost got out the door - that snake would kill her!
By this time of course my grandmother had already called daddy and papa home from the boat to deal with the miscreant snake who felt this was his new home.
Fortunately for all us women folk, the dock was moments away and they arrived quickly. Granddaddy took his gun, and promptly made skin from the snake. Funny, it didn't look like a six foot western diamond back rattler... but it was.
This is not a true memory - it's a story told over and over again, of which I have stored the details from each telling. It is my mothers memory, passed on to me.
I could tell all sorts of fantastic tales of the sea from my grandfathers 25 year career as a shrimp boat captain - all lived through him by a very imaginative and thoughtful little girl, who thought catching shrimp in the ocean was the most fabulous job ever. Like the one about his mole...
My grandfather had a very prodigious mole on his forehead - I mean this thing had it's own eyes! I can vividly remember being about six when I first mustered the courage to ask him how it came to be there... Of course, NOW I know that he was likely born with it, and that it had probably caused him immense pain as a child. I also know that it was rude of me to ask about it... but hey, I was only six, and he was my papa nothing was remotely rude with him. The story he told was one of sea-faring adventure, which convinced me even further that he was a hero of the finest sort!
The tale was that he was about 20 miles off the coast of Campeche, Mexico hauling a mother-lode of shrimp, when suddenly over the transom of the boat lept the largest shark eyes had ever seen. Well that shark didn't like his shrimp being harvested, and he had it in for my grandpa. So when it landed on the deck with a wet, slimy plop, grandpa decided the shark could not stay.
He asked the shark why he was there...and the shark told him he was just following his dinner. The argument of old... just who do the riches of the sea belong to - the fishermen who depend upon it for life and sustenance, or the fish who depend upon it for life and sustenance?
Well that old shark, according to my grandpa, sat there and discussed this age old conundrum with him. And they came to an agreement - if the shark could have just a little human intelligence, then he wouldn't have to work so hard to eat... and in return, my grandfather could keep all he caught, without fear of retribution from the shark population, with the understanding that if grandpa's feet ever touched the water, all bets were off. Well grandpa made that deal, and the shark reached up and touched his forehead, taking just enough intelligence to keep him from having to work too hard to eat, and leaving the rest behind. When the shark pulled away, granddaddy's forehead stretched out, and pop! out came the mole.
What a story to grow up with. I believed that tale until I was about twelve, and learned from the movie Jaws, that sharks not only cannot talk, but if they could, man was the LAST thing they would talk to, much less make a deal with.
But that story gave me so many years of wonderfully imaginative games to play. I was a captain in my own right, sailing the seas in a ship built from rock, wood, dirt, or gravel, depending on my location when the fantasy took hold. I sailed from Greece to Austraila, around the Cape and down the coast of Africa. I was an adventurer on the seas and the fish talked to me. We had a wonderful arrangement in which sharks brought me barrels of freshly caught shrimp, that were carefully steamed over the blow holes of whales passing by.
Other stories, that were true, remind me of my father's childhood, and what it would be like to grow up with siblings, as I had none at that age.
They all had one underlying theme - the ocean. As a family, we were bred to be on the water. Saltwater flowed through our veins, and still today I hear the call of the gull, no matter how far from the ocean I wander.
I had a great-grandfather who was an author. For close to forty years, he wrote for Fur, fish, and Game magazine. His stories were about a pair of hunters named Charlie and Lew. Their adventures fueled even more fantasies in the woods behind our house.
Growing up in the relative seclusion afforded in Tennessee in that time molded me into an independent thinking woman. It prepared me for the things to come in my life - and it was an experience every child should have. The experience of unbridled imagination, untamed by reality. The experience of a rich family history, embellished enough to make even the mundane seem exciting and adventurous. For those memories, and many others, I am grateful to my family - the made me who I am today!

Part Two - Friends

2010-03-26T07:37:00.000-07:00

So few people in their lives meet a person with whom they will bond forever. I met mine in the first grade. Mrs. Cavet's class to be exact. We were both six or seven - and we both liked the same boy... not in the same way we would like boys later in life - but all the same, it became a competition. The day we became friends one such boy was the cause.
Standing in line next to "the boy" (who remains nameless because I have no idea where he is today) was a special treat for either of us, and on this particular day it was my turn. Being first graders, we were made to hold hands in two lines - boys in one, girls in another. This processional took us to the cafeteria, playground, or bathrooms depending on the time of day. This was long before the days of modern schools where bathrooms are right outside the classrooms, it was a hike in our Elementary school - which still stands today, and educates hundreds of little girls and boys just like us every year.
We walked to the playground this day, hand in hand and I chattered away about swings, slides, and see-saws - the boy was mine for recess, and I intended to take advantage of it! The doors opened, and the playground was ours. It was just at that moment that I hit the ground... I looked up in time to see her hand in hand with him...
She was pretty, long chestnut hair, beautiful eyes, and manners that rivaled even Emily Post. And she had just tripped me up, and stolen the boy!
Immediately, I was on my feet and across the playground... nobody puts me on the ground and gets away with it... and this is where memories get fuzzy. I cannot remember what was said, or done - but I remember one thing... That girl became my best friend that day. A friend that today, 38 years later I can still call in the middle of the night and cry to... A friend that no matter what it was, would be there in an instant if I needed her.
No matter how many years or miles separate us we are still best friends. We still are the only ones that know the deepest and darkest secrets of the other. We know what the other's childhood dreams and goals were, and we know which of those dreams came true, and which was ripped away like so much wrapping paper.
For the next six years of our lives we were totally inseparable. We spent weekends at each other's houses - or in my favorite place, the family sailboat. Many memories were made on the Chickamauga Lake - by two young girls who knew nothing but freedom, peace, and love. We had never been tainted by tragedy, sickness, or death. Our outlook on life was full of childish idealism and it was perfect. I would not change a moment of those years, and I'm pretty sure that Kim would not either. We were two girls living the life of Riley, and loving every minute of it.
But as in most things in life our time was not to be forever. Things change rapidly when you are a child. And intertwined in all the changes are opportunities for growth. As things changed in our lives, we continued our friendship into the rich and wonderful relationship it is today.
There were other friends along the way in those years, but none who impacted my life in the way Kim did... and none that I even know where are today.
That is the way of the childhood friendship - some stay, and some you never see again.

Part One - Family

2010-03-11T19:07:00.000-08:00

In our neighborhood there were only seven kids. Seven kids in an entire 3 block area, so we had a central bus stop, at the bottom of the hill, near the “main road” through our area. Once there, usually mom stayed, having driven me and the boys across the street. They stood near the road and watched for the bus, I sat in the warmth of the car, driving mother insane with my chatter and questions. I look back now and I know that she had to breathe a huge sigh of relief when she saw that bus every morning. For a while now, mom had been working the three to eleven shift at the hospital as a nursing aide. She saw me on to the bus in the morning, and then went home to do her thing. In the afternoon, my grandmother, my mom’s mother, picked me up and I went to her house; which coincidentally, was right next door to ours. I would hang out with grandma, snack on good food, and play until Daddy came home from work around 5 or so. He worked for TVA then, and it was a pretty long day for him as a heavy-equipment mechanic. After dinner, daddy and I would go home and do homework. Then it was time for television, relaxing, or playing in the yard till bed time. I was in bed and long asleep by the time my mom got home, but she never failed to come in and kiss me good night.

Mine was what some would describe as an idyllic childhood. My parents, married thirteen years by this time, never raised their voices to each other. They were totally dedicated to each other, and to me. Our lives centered on family-friendly events, sailing, fishing, swimming, traveling, and family visits. Ours was a close family, for the most part, made closer still by my father’s frequent visits to his parents, brothers, and sister. We also saw my mother’s sister and my cousins every holiday and for a while in the summer most years. It was family closeness that made the tragedy to come both easier to handle and at the same time harder than anything we’d ever faced, together or separately.

My childhood hero was my father. He was the ‘man with the answers’ to all my questions. While I was an exceptionally frustrating child, with my hyperactive energy and lack of concentration, my father had a lot of patience. Understand that looking back now; I know that even though my behavior and grades had to be a disappointment to my parents, they never, ever showed it. Yes, there were consequences for failing every class I took. I can remember being grounded from television for nearly two years as a child. He was strict and unerring in his goal – to make me a better person. I was punished according to the infraction, in a fair and impartial way, and loved in spite of the things I did wrong, and I knew it. My parents were loving disciplinarians, with lofty goals for their only daughter.

My mother’s parents lived right next door to us and pretty much had for as long as I could remember. They spent lots of time with me, and fed me some of the best food I’ve eaten in my life. I took it for granted that they, like my parents would always just be there.

My father’s parents lived across town and we spent every Sunday I can remember eating at Bea’s Restaurant. It’s a classically timeless place with a unique concept on buffet dining. Each round table seats about seven. A turntable center is loaded with fresh sourdough rolls and butter, cornbread, beans, fried chicken, barbeque pork, coleslaw, potato salad, and peach cobbler. Everyone serves themselves from the buffet trays that are never ever empty, the serving staff being so attentive and on the spot.

My dad’s three brothers were the source of endless entertainment and torture when I was young. They were seven and eight years older than me, and all boy. I was locked in cabinets, tied up with belts, picked on, and tormented. But I loved my uncles; they were very special to me when I was growing up. My aunt didn’t live in town, and I had no idea until I was older why. That’s another story, that’s not mine to tell. The time I did get to spend with her during vacations and family visits, she was awesome. I remember my first ever concert was attended with her not long before she moved away. She and her then boyfriend Bob took me to see the Charlie Daniels Band. It was an experience I’ll never forget.

My mother’s sister lived a state away, and visited as often as her busy career would allow. My cousins, both about ten years older than me, were just like my uncles, only I didn’t see them as often. My aunt had had a rough life, with several bad marriages. She met my uncle Don, and things were just right for her after that. My uncle was a computer engineer for a company called Allied Bendix, on a contract with NASA. Their job was designing the brains for the space shuttle program and naval ships. My aunt became his executive secretary, and because of that was able to travel the world; living in places like Quito, Ecuador and Korea. It was a great time in her life, and mine too as I got to travel vicariously through them, because there was always a new package in the mail, containing some exotic doll, or carved figurine, or something equally great for a kid.

Even my great-grandparents were nearby. My paternal grandfather’s parents both lived close by. Maurice, I know was an author, who wrote thousands of articles for a magazine called Fur, Fish, and Game. They were wonderfully sweet very old people.

My paternal grandmother’s mom was my favorite in the world besides my daddy. She was a sweet woman with a quiet loving spirit. She loved her family, her life, and her God. She was fully prepared to go home to Jesus, when he saw fit to have her there. It wasn’t until she reached the age of 105 that he called her home to him. I missed the funeral – and have yet to forget that faux pas.

We had good family friends too, folks that we barbequed with, that my parents went out to dinner with, that came and had dinner with us, and that were valuable parts of my childhood. My dad’s work buddy Cheney was a constant source of aggravation and amusement as he pulled countless pranks on my dad, mom, and even me. One memorable occasion included tying my shoelaces and bathing suit strings together into what seemed like a million little knots, that I had to untie before I could wear shoes or swim suit!

Across the street from us was a dear couple with kids of their own. Wanda and Buddy were probably my grandparent’s greatest friends.

Writing and Stuff

2010-03-11T19:04:00.000-08:00

Obviously, by now, you should know that I like to write... I guess that's an understatement, actually I LOVE to write. It's just one of the things I do. So, in keeping with that hobby, I thought I might begin to share some of my stories with you. Even though I know my only readers might be my kids, I still think it would be fun to share them!
With that said, my next post will be the first installment of what will be a series of "short stories" from my life. Childhood memories captured in print.

Stuff and such

2010-02-26T07:54:00.000-08:00

I know that I've mentioned here before how much I love blogs... well -- not just ANY blog, but those deep, gritty, REAL blogs that talk about life, and kids, and food. The folks out there that share their lives via the internet, and make us better people because of it.
While I would like this blog to be just that one day -- I'm not holding my breath.
However, I would like to share with you some of the women and men in the blogosphere, who make my day an easier one to complete...

In no particular order:
Our Front Door - Wonderful blog by a mom, about her life, kids, and daily ups and downs...
The Pioneer Woman - this entire site is a mainstay in my daily life, from her "Confessions" page to the fabulous photography assignments, Ree Drummond brings a small slice of ranch life to the internet and lets her readers live it through her incredible photography and writing. Her cooking isn't half bad either and if you haven't tried her Beef Stew with Mushrooms you don't know what you're missing!
Bakerella.com - if you like to bake... oh heck who am I kidding -- if you like baked goods, cakes, cookies, cupcakes, candies -- you know, the good stuff, then this site is so for you! Incredible images of some of the most beautiful baked goods, and step-by-step instructions to help ME do it myself! Amazing!
Confessions of a Young Married Couple - Follow the adventures of Chris, Kate, and the Bean-man as they journey through marriage and parenting. Very real, very raw, very endearing -- and the bean is well worth a visit!
The Bloggess - this one is about as raw and real as it gets. Jenny's insight on things keeps a smile on my face long after a post.
Blogger Dad - Blogger Dad is a cute, funny, endearing blog -- written by the daddy of a very active toddler. His insight on child-rearing and all things "home-life" is incredibly funny and true!

This is really a small sampling of the blogs I try to follow. For some reason, reading about the experiences of others makes things around here seem easier -- or at least not so bad all the time.

Just thought I'd share...

And just in case you wondered... and I'm pretty sure you didn't... I am still working on the kitchen... but - I'm not ready to post the photos yet... So, hold your breath... ok -- wait, don't do that, because I might forget, and then I'd be responsible for your death... DON'T hold your breath, but look for an update this weekend on the kitchen!

The Kitchen - Day 1

2010-02-23T07:12:00.000-08:00

See..You thought I'd never get back to this... but I did! hehe... and here is the proof of Day 1~

I started out by photographing everything in its current location... some of these photos are pretty revealing, mess wise -- but my kitchen didn't get cleaned the night before like it was supposed to, so I got up to the 'overflow' from a too full dishwasher. The result of children not wanting to hand wash dishes when we have a dishwasher RIGHT THERE! Anyway -- the kitchen is a mess!

So... these are my pantry cabinets... they are 7 feet tall and three feet deep, the upper cabinet has two shelves, the lower has three. they store a LOT Of food! Notice my garbage can and broom directly behind the back door... not wise, it continually gets knocked over.. and this leaves very little room for travel - if the dishwasher is open you're liable to trip!

As you can see, this is the other side of the back door, with my counter and upper cabinets visible. Right beside the open drawer at the end is the dishwasher.

This is the other end of the kitchen with your back to the door. All of this is changing except the corner cabinet.

A little more complete view from this angle -- you would think that with this much cabinet space things would not need to be stored on top of the fridge! Uggh! What a mess!!!

This is behind the pantry cabinets: the dog crate and the SO's desk. His desk is here because our youngest child, when at home, requires constant supervision and this is the most strategic spot in the house.

So of course before I could do much I had to empty the cabinets... notice the coffee cans? Yeah, the SO has a penchant for collecting them -- I do believe in a year or two we will have enough to construct a new house.
Also rice... if we had to, we could survive two weeks on rice, we have a lot of it!

Here are plastics, bake ware, and dishes... most of this plastic crap will likely go in the trash because it is either just a lid or just a container...
This photo does not truly show the magnitude of this pile... the section of counter is three and a half feet wide!

And of course because it was moving too, I had to empty the spice cabinet!

So... now's the time when I get to interrupt the SO's video game... because it's time to get the screwdriver out and start pulling these suckers down... and I have promised myself that I will NOT do anything that I KNOW will hurt me this time...
So I head to the bedroom... I walk in past the television, looking around, for the electric drill/screwdriver. And the conversation went something like this:
SO: What are you looking for baby? (I'm kinda in front of the TV so he's a bit frustrated)
Me: The screwdriver thing
SO: If you mean my drill... it's right here -- what are you doing?
ME: Ahh there it is! Cool, I'm taking some screws out of the wall...
SO: What screws?
ME: You know, the ones in the kitchen...
SO: Are you ready for me to take that cabinet down now?
ME: Ummm... let me think -- yes, I think that I might be!
SO: *sigh* Ok... let me get my shoes on...
ME: Ok, I'm going to take this out with me... as I pick up the drill...
SO: Umm... No, I'll bring it when I come, thank you!
And with that he takes the drill and goes to the bathroom and SHUTS THE DOOR... leaving me standing in the bedroom, empty handed, in front of the television... listening to 40's music on Fallout... interesting -- I headed back to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, the SO comes out, sans drill -- it was still in the bathroom, and as I dashed off to get it for him, he discovered that I had forgotten the cabinet over the stove had to move, and had neglected to move the stuff out of it... Well that's ok, because that stupid cabinet is 7 feet off the floor... I can barely reach it, much less SEE inside to know what's in there, so I don't USE it... that's HIS cabinet and I have no clue what's in there! Other than an outlet that I'd really love to be able to use...
Anyway, the SO found my foil, plastic wrap, parchment paper, and steam bags for the microwave! Nice find love!!! I had been LOOKING for those things ;)
Now for removal of cabinets!

See! There's my outlet! It's supposed to be for an under-counter mounted microwave oven... which broke within two hours of installation, was returned to the manufacturer and we got our money back. 1. The microwave was dangerous for our youngest son -- he could not safely remove hot food from it.
2. I could not safely use it, and it couldn't be any lower because it would interfere with the stove. So, we got an 'on the counter' model that was easier for all of us.

God I hate that green paint! It was original to the house... and initially the cabinets were ceiling height, but they were too high for me even with a step stool so a few months ago, we lowered them, and I haven't had time to touch up the paint... that's happening this week!

Onward to the moving of things!

So now here is my new "cooking alcove" -- my pantry cabinets are in place on either side, and the sides of them as well as the wall will be covered with green marble tiles to create a backsplash.

Cabinet in place and some items put away... of course not long after I took this photo I changed my mind on the placement, but I had to get the stuff out of the SO's way so he could do this:

Another cabinet on the wall!!! YAY for me! no more tripping over it!

So that is all for now, I was so exhausted after we finished that I didn't get a whole lot of putting away/organizing done... that's for today. So for now, I'm off to charge my batteries, and get ready for Day 2!

Our Girl

2010-02-20T09:51:00.000-08:00

Our daughter... what can I say about this sweet, loving, girl?
She's just 16 and sometimes I think I can see the wisdom of the ages in her sweet eyes as they cloud over with thought or emotion.
What a tender hearted girl she is...

Our girl loves her daddy... in fact, she's the epitome of 'daddy's girl'.

She can be devastatingly beautiful...

Yet, still a child at heart...

She can be a 'tom-boy' when the occasion calls for it...

Sometimes she even makes it to the TOP of the tree...

She cooks, even when the kitchen remodel was in full swing!

and, she loves her pets...

All around, she is a pretty awesome kid!
I wanted to take the time to post, and let her know how much she means to me... I may not say it often enough, and sometimes I may seem like I'm not paying attention -- but I do love you baby girl, very much! My life would not be complete had you not come into it - and while you are not of my flesh and blood, you ARE my daughter, and that will never change. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to love you!

~Mom~

Dogs

2010-02-02T09:36:00.000-08:00

So, Magimom has dogs... several of them... what can I say -- I love dogs. I love all shapes and sizes of dog... however I have a really soft spot for teeny dogs...
You know the little tiny babies that look like mini-dogs -- the ones that fit nicely in a purse? (I got the hots for the baby blue one of these...)

Well, my son and I are now proud owners of this little guy:

Isn't he beautiful?!?

We call him all kinds of things, some not so nice (from the 'boys'), others just downright cute:

Coco (his original name, the name-he-came-with)
Rocky
Mr. Bubbles
Fuzzy Bubbles
Fuzz buddy

Most of these have to do with the enormous amount of hair this dog has...

Whatever we call him it's always to play... he likes to play!

Honestly... how could you not love this???

Kitchen - Part 1 - The Plan

2010-02-02T08:27:00.000-08:00

So, as I've said repeatedly, I'm reclaiming my kitchen to allow for better 'flow' when working in there... so, in order to do this, I must rearrange these giant (7ft tall, 3 ft. deep) pantry cabinets, as well as moving my fridge, stove, and a wall cabinet -- the only part I will force the SO to participate in... since he's like a million miles tall and stuff...

So, today is my 'planning' day -- when I harp to the SO that I want to do this, let him know that I'm going to start on it without him... and then hurt myself repeatedly until he takes over... seriously, that's the way it works...

As I've mentioned before, I have fibromyalgia. This prevents me from doing a lot of things comfortably. This does not mean that I do not ~~try~~ do those things, repeatedly... and I always, always hurt myself. I am stubborn... hard-headed, and when I want something... I want it... now

This is something the SO has come to understand... sort of -- it does not stop him from allowing my stubborn streak to run full bore into the wall that is my physical limitations, admitted or not. Then he will come to the rescue, my knight in shining armor, to pick up the pieces, add an ice pack to the grossly swollen joint 'of the day' -- and finish (sort of) the project I was killing myself to work on. It's the way it works around here... and so far it has worked... for me
I get what I want done, done... He gets I-told-you-so rights... and I spend three days in bed with my computer and watching him play X-box. Not my idea of a fun way to spend three days...

So this time around, I think I'm going to try a different approach. He knows that I want this project done... therefore he should be willing to help prevent me from injuring myself... which means he should actually just say -- "Ok, honey, when do you want to do it?" When I ask him to help me...

What should happen... is rarely what does happen... typically the conversation goes something like this:

Me: Honey, sweetheart, darling... you know I love you, right?
SO: Wait a second... Let me kill this thing -- ok , yes, what did you say?
Me: Ummmm... I have a project I've been wanting to do... but *sigh* because of this stupid fibro crap... I need your help!
SO: So what is this project you want to do?
Me: It's in the kitchen... you know, just moving the pantry cabinets....
SO: I thought you liked them where they are
Me: Well... I do, sort of -- but I have no room for my pots and pans, stuff is falling on the floor, and I'm tired of tripping over lids, and pots, and stuff when I'm trying to cook and take pictures... *sweet liquid eyes -- blink blink*
SO: So... what all are you planning...
Ah! The QUESTION! heheh we're halfway there folks... halfway there...
Me: So - get this, it's going to be cool! I want to take the two pantry cabinets and put them on either side of the stove... then... oh -- we'll need to move the cabinet on the wall to put the pantry there... then we can install (finally) the stove vent over the stove. The cabinet we take down can go up next to the sink to balance it out -- then the one we move out from the other side of the stove can go back to back with the one in the bathroom, and the drawer we won't be able to get to when the pantry is there can go in the bathroom to replace the one we took out...
SO: *sigh* you're kidding... right?

So, yeah this is the way it goes around here... there will be much hemming and hawing on the subject, but eventually I'll win... and in 6 months, I'll want to do it all again!

Birthdays...

2010-01-30T21:27:00.000-08:00

So, with seven kids, I've always got a birthday coming, going, or just passed... almost every month we have at least one... January is no exception, with three in my family... my son Jonathan, is 22 today, January 31. My parents birthday was January 28th.

Can't you tell he loves the camera...

Of course, sometimes he volunteers...

Other times he's just plain scary!

His dog loves him...

I love him... betcha didn't guess that one!

aaaannddd... I kinda think the camera loves him too....

but that's just me, and I'm ~~only~~ his mom...

A poem I found...

You Are A Gift

Some people give the gift
of peace and tranquility
to every life they touch.
They are always who they really are.
They are blessedly reliable,
dependably good,
predictably pleasant,
loved and treasured
by all who know them.
You are one of those people.
You are a gift
of peace and tranquility
in my life.

Happy Birthday!

By Joanna Fuchs
Happy 22nd birthday to my wonderful, loving, son -- Jonathan! I hope your day is great!

An Epic Battle...

2010-01-30T10:27:00.000-08:00

Tucker... I talked about him just a little here, mostly just to state that up to that point, in the three years we've owned him, he'd never had his picture taken.
The other night I was working on a new chicken recipe, and photographing as I went and Tucker slipped into the kitchen. Immediately the chicken packaging in the trash can attracted his attention - and he went for it... what ensued went something like this:

NO! Give that back -- it is mine... all mine!

I mean it... seriously, I'm not kidding... it's MINE!

It is MINE I'm telling you -- I found it, fair and square!

Notice, that in the above photo, Tucker has only one small piece of this massive chicken package in his mouth... My daughter is attempting to assist in taking it away from him... he's not having it. There was much growling...

You people kill me... I will be back!

I've noticed something about this cat. He is elusive until there is food involved. Not cat food, by any means, because that's always available... but people food -- cakes, meats, frozen goods, bread... it's all fair game. Another reason why I need to reclaim my kitchen to a more functional and efficient space... and to cut down on catastrophes...

The mess that is...

2010-01-29T23:12:00.000-08:00

my bedroom... I noticed it in the last post, the picture of the sweet female munchking with her tongue out. I noticed... beside her foot... is a pile. of. stuff. with shoes on top. this stuff must go -- it is part of the clutter that is making my bedroom a claustrophobic nightmare. I want to reclaim this space, and make it my own... to create a 'sanctuary' in which me, and the SO can relax and unwind from a busy day of... whatever it is that keeps us busy. Usually kids. Mostly kids. Pretty much always kids. it's ok, they're OUR munchkings... and we love them.

I'm watching...

2010-01-29T22:00:00.000-08:00

this....

this?!?!

and...

this...

tiger woods pga 2005... on my tv -- all tiger, all the time!

Being a mom...

2010-01-29T21:22:00.000-08:00

So, this blog is by a mom... for other moms... and I guess it would be remiss of me if I didn't introduce my children. Without further ado, the much acclaimed munchkings in my life:

Kyla - 26 - Clearwater, FL

Kyla was born just two short weeks before my 17th birthday... I learned the hard way about being a parent with her -- an experience I would not choose to have again, but one I would never, ever give up!

Jonathan (aka 'Sticky') - 22 - At Home, GA

Jonathan is my only natural son, and has been my crutch, my rock, and my savior over the last ten years... I could not live without this young man in my life... He is getting ready to go train to be a smoke jumper... seriously, how impressive is that?!?

Jacalyn (aka 'the baby') - 19 - Tampa, FL

I can say that I was glad to know she waited until she was 18 to get pregnant... I cannot say I think the timing was good, or that she was ready, or that her husband is wonderful and perfect... it is what it is -- and we make the very best of everything. She and her husband (shown below in my favorite wedding picture) Josh have given me the very best gift a person could get... and that is the gift of my marvelous, incredible, handsome, and perfect grandson, JJ. He is the light of my life these days... and I do miss him terribly. Soon a trip to FL is inevitable... donations accepted, comment for paypal info.

Are they not the sweetest little family... Oh I could just hug them until they cried... or I cried -- something...

PJ - 16 - At Home, GA

I think this is a most breathtaking picture... my little girl looks so amazing. This is my darling step-daughter, and she is my baby girl. I've been her mom for seven wonderful years... and it gets better every day!

Seth - 15 - At Home, GA

All boy... all motion... all the time. Sweet, gentle, and loving, Seth is my middle son. He's pretty much a straight A student, hates doing chores, and believes fully that the computer is actually a body part.

Daniel - 14 - At Home, GA

My little man. *sigh* what can I say about the baby of the family... Daniel has a severe emotional disability. In effect, he came to us as 'damaged goods'. He suffered eight years of abuse at the hands of his incompetent drug-addicted mother... who stayed three steps ahead of the law, child services, and his father for those years... and only by the grace of God, and a hurricane named Charley does he live with us today. Daniel's journey is a long one... with a few forks and bends in the road now and then... check out his story here.

I also have an older step-son and daughter-in-law in North Florida... they have a lovely little girl named Elizabeth, she will be one in May... she's precious as are all babies -- however due to some things we have no control over, they are not currently part of our lives, and won't be in the foreseeable future. Maybe there will be more on that later... maybe there won't -- touchy subject.

So now you've met a cat... and my munchkings... yet -- believe it or not, you have not met the entire family... You still have to meet Bosco, Lilly, Gracie, Kittie, Shakespeare, and Tucker the wonder cat (as in I wonder why I haven't killed him yet). I'll save the other children for another day and another post... they're beautiful and funny, and make life here at home a whole lot more interesting... and frustrating - all at the same time.

I have a cat...

2010-01-29T20:36:00.000-08:00

who stinks... nothing in this world can take the funk out of this cat...
She's beautiful...

she is also old... 11 years old... and might I mention, that she stinks...

Now this cat is truly amazing... at the ripe old age of 10 she taught herself how to use the toilet... mostly because the other cats use the litter box and she's too good for the other cats... and partly because at her age, going to the bathroom can sometimes take a while, and after all, the humans do it -- 'anyone got a good book about dog torture'?

But, I cannot imagine for the life of me how my beautiful old angel got to smelling so bad... maybe it's her obsession with the woods behind our barn... maybe it's the fact that she has no bottom teeth anymore and so she drools incessantly... maybe the fact that she has no teeth prevents her from cleaning herself appropriately anymore...

That's all beside the point....
the point is... I. love. this. cat. seriously!

so for now I will be content in the knowledge that at 11 she's still pretty, still sweet, still marching to the tune of a different drum... and I can put up with the odor to get some of that sweet old lady love... Dear magi -- I'm buying you some wet naps for your birthday!

Of blanket washing and such

2010-01-29T16:57:00.000-08:00

Several years ago I was possessed of the notion that I wanted one of those fancy shmancy comforters for my bed... I looked high and low for one that suited my taste, and finally -- against all odds I found the one I wanted... at of all places, Walmart. Yes, I know, it's funny the things you find there, such as the well hidden supply of 300 thread count Egyptian Cotton sheets for $60 a set (Queen). I love my Walmart, really I do -- except it's about the only place in town aside from my tiny little grocery store down the road, that's been here forever, and forever will remain -- the little farmers would have it no other way.
Anyway -- back to the topic of this post, my comforter. Now, when I bought it some four or five odd years ago, it was winter, and we didn't have "central" heat, we had space heaters, and kerosene.
So I come home from Walmart with a big fancy $100 comforter (yes, cheap, but then... it's Walmart, ok)?... this thing was beautiful! It was deep reds and coppery browns and it was all tapestry like with a lovely chocolate brown stripe of velvety goodness around the sides and bottom... it was truly a beautiful thing, complete with bed skirt, pillow shams, and sheets -- Egyptian Cotton thank you very much -- only the 150 thread count ones that are kind of scratchy... oh well, you get what you pay for, and I did buy a wonderful set of the 300 count too... but again, I digress -- this is about my big, beautiful comforter... that weighed approximately 50 pounds... seriously! I don't know for sure what those things are filled with, in my case I know it's not down... those weigh closer to 100 pounds for a good one... but this baby is heavy I'm telling you! It's also something that is typically not allowed at all in this house for obvious reasons... and I have 8 of those reasons in and out of my bedroom all day, every day. Introductions are for another post... you'll meet all the 'kids'... and maybe the children too... lol
oops... digression again -- *sigh* back to the topic, my comforter, and what it is that's not allowed... DRY CLEAN ONLY... yep, I said it -- me... mother of 7 children and 8 pets... bought a dry clean only comforter... willingly -- without deception.
I seriously thought *well, it can't get too dirty in my room, can it?" I was deluded by the pretty lights and stuff, I swear! So anyway, I brought this thing home, and put it on my bed... and oo'd and awwe'd about it for weeks, how comfy it was, how warm it was, how wonderful it was to snuggle under at night... until

it started to smell... funny. I don't mean funny in a make you laugh till you wet your pants kind of way... I mean funny in the someone laughed to hard and peed on my blanket kind of way... NO it wasn't really pee -- but it was the combination of three cats, two dogs, and various children... plus my SO and I... for three weeks of cold weather in a room with a space heater... it doesn't get much funnier than that...

It was then that the decision to purchase the $100 beautiful beyond words luxury comforter came into question -- just how was I going to afford the $30 dry-cleaning bill on this sucker? Did I mention that I am the mother of seven children? I can't afford to dry-clean anything, including a comforter as beautiful as mine... that's three meals in my house, nothing doing...

So I began to look for alternatives to dry-cleaning, and I tried several over the next few weeks -- dryer sheets, vinegar soaked washcloths... Dryel... and none of them save one have worked...

One day I came home from work and my comforter was gone... vanished -- I had no idea where it was... it was not on my bed, or in the corner... So, innocently I asked the SO, "where's the blanket"? (I try not to get too formal with him, you never know). "Oh, you mean the comforter?"... ok so much for simple terms... "Yes, love -- the $100 dry-clean only, better not be on the floor within reach of ANY animal, four or two-legged, comforter... umm... where is it?"
By this point I must explain that after several years with my wonderful SO we have determined one thing *I* and I alone am in charge of the laundry. He is not allowed to touch it -- ever. So I just knew that he had not done anything with my comforter, I just didn't see it.
and then I heard the four little words that forever changed my life...

"It's in the washer"...

"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong, did you just say that my $100 beautiful beyond compare, dry-clean only, heaviest blanket on EARTH, is... in... the... WASHER?"

"Yes, baby, relax... it's on the gentle cycle".

by this time of course, I am bordering on hysteria... then wondering to myself how bad can it be? Really, I mean it's sturdy -- and strong, and HEAVY... I hope my washer survives! So, off to the laundry room I race, to find the spin cycle just finishing up and it didn't sound like my washer was dead... yet.

I opened the lid, and found my poor baby all huddled around the agitator looking limp, wet, and purely pathetic... some find fancy shmancy comforter it was!
Now, what do you do with a comforter that weighs 50 pounds when dry... that is now soaking wet -- and is really really heavy? I considered a LOT of options... now had it been summer -- there would have been one option only -- to the clothesline. But since it was just heading into January, and the temperatures were in the thirties most of the day it was not an option for me...
I thought about the fluff cycle, running it through with no heat, and that made about as much sense as putting it out on the clothesline... and would take forever, and if I had not mentioned yet -- it was cold, and my blanket was WET...
So... after much upset and trying not to -- I decided against all better judgement to put it in the dryer, and apply heat to my beloved blanket... I was saddened... and I knew that the poor baby wouldn't survive the dryer... but I had to get it dry.

So through the dryer it went, on low heat and stuff for a couple of hours... and viola'... it survived!

So, after 5+ years of regular use (except maybe a month or two in the spring) and many, many trips through the washer and dryer - -a lot of cat naps, dog naps, kid naps and me naps... it still looks pretty good -- not so bad for being old, as a blanket goes. I think now, it's a comfort thing -- its not as fluffy as it once was (or would be if not washed and dried), but it's just as heavy, and it gives me that warm weighty feeling when I go to sleep.

Don't get me wrong -- dry clean only really does mean, dry clean only, but in this case, an accidental discovery of a fabric that SHOULD go all to pieces didn't... AND has stood the test of time is just too good for words! This blanket will grace my sleeping hours for as long as it decides to keep it together!

For now that is all -- I've got to go get my flannel sheets and blanket out of the dryer!

Magimom

Life in the Fishbowl

2010-01-29T12:11:00.000-08:00

or if you prefer -- I'm drowning in a sea of domestic duties that I don't want to complete!

As you know from Hopelessly in Love with Food that I love to cook... I like to clean less than I like to cook, but I am good at it. After all, I've had close to 30 years of practice. I am even better at "deep" or detail cleaning. This is because I have a very 'rulesy' personality and I believe in doing the job in it's entirety, including crawling on the floor and scrubbing. However, with this penchant comes a lot of incomplete projects -- things I just haven't gotten done yet. Things I don't know if I'll ever get done... things I really want done, but don't have a lot of motivation to do them.

My dear SO and I are starting a non-profit organization, and in doing so, we must claim a portion of the house for office space, and have the ability to work, and converse on the telephone uninterrupted or disturbed. This means the previously areas of the house dedicated to laundry and storage and such are going to have to be cleared out and repurposed. My office and the SO's office are nearly there -- he claiming a portion of the dining area, and me an unused corner with a window! While not organized the way I want it yet -- it's getting there, and I'm ok with that.

Then there is my kitchen, 2 years in the making of organization. In the two years I've yet to figure out how I want things to be organized in my cabinets or how I want my two pantry cabinets set. This is another thing that really needs to be done, because I am hoping to step up Hopeless to 4 nights a week, and I need the ability to have a clean and safe area in which to prepare, photograph and serve food. A place that is organized and doesn't make me cringe every time I enter. Things like my dishwasher that's attached to the cabinets on 1 side only... yeah - this needs some work!

Another project is the reclamation of my bedroom to useable, enjoyable, relaxing space. Someplace I would be happy to curl up in at the end of the day, with good book and some cocoa! Something comfortable, warm, and inviting... Another project to tackle!

Then there is the living room, the 'hub' of our home, containing a community computer, television, and xbox -- it's where the kiddos go to hang out and where we have family meetings and we never ever allow guests in there!
I want a space that I can be proud to show off and say - -this is our living room, regardless of the out of place dining table, and the falling apart fireplace. Those things can be cute, and quaint in their own way when the room itself doesn't look so horrible.

so there you have it -- a list of things on my To Do roster... seems like a lot, and I think it really is... So - this is spring cleaning a little early and done my way.

I plan to do 'before' and 'after' shots of everything as I go, in hopes that I'm actually improving things, and to show the insurance company if that ladder doesn't hold.

So you may ask "Why do I care about any of this?" You know, I don't know - and I don't care if you care -- I plan to do it anyway... because I have knowledge to share, if only with my children -- and who knows, this may wind up being the next great "household" how-to! Move over Heloise, here comes Magimom's Mom Stuff!