I knew I didn't like those commercials

Yesterday, Brownie and Sweetheart were sitting on the couch and a drug commercial came on.

Brownie: I think I figured out what the "Viva _____" commercial is talking about.
Sweetheart: (slight groan) What do you think it means?
Brownie: Well, they put the "Do Not Disturb" sign up and they start kissing, so you know.
Sweetheart: Well, I guess we do know.

I still think the girls are between knowing and KNOWING, but it certainly makes for a diversion from watching a football game.

Well, things look about the same as when I left them....

...way too many days ago.

I never know what to say when it has been a while since I blogged, and this is the longest absence ever.

I guess it could be said that I wasn't doing very well for a while there. I was swimming up a very strong stream just to manage to get my ass to work and home again. I didn't really care much about anything that was going on around me except for how it was preventing me from sleeping. And not just any kind of sleep, but the kind of sleep where you pull the covers over your head and stay there. It is so strange this depression. To the best of my knowledge there were no external events or stressors that started me into the spiral. It seems that a hole so deep should have something to mark its beginning. I think it would have been much easier to identify that things were getting darker if an event had heralded that the sun was setting in my head.

I must say that I feel quite frustrated at times about this. I find myself thinking that it must be someone else's turn to play this game, but I wouldn't wish this on anyone else.


I have been on my new medication Deplin and an increased dose of Effexor for a month now, and I am doing so much better. I have much more energy (though afternoon naps and early bedtimes are still in effect). I have actually fixed dinner a few times lately. The new med is a super duper folate not even covered by insurance. It seems that I am one of some number of people who need the folate in order to allow the antidepressants to work. I was a bit skeptical about the concept that a vitamin would help, but it has. Sweetheart said yesterday that I was 110% better than I was a month ago. I still have a ways to go, but it's good to be on the way up.

Waiting for a locksmith

That title up there? It's never a good thing to be waiting for a locksmith. It means money and frustration, neither of which I have to spare.

However, here I am. I am one of those people who doesn't have a place that keys go every single time. I frequently scurry around looking for my keys at the last minute. So it was no surprise that this morning found me doing the same. I brilliantly figured out they were in the car, and then not quite as brilliantly found the car to be locked. I called my husband who was unable to come bring me the extra on his keyring. I called work to say I would be late. I called a locksmith for whom I am now patiently waiting. And somewhat kicking myself.

You see, I would not bet loads of money that the keys actually *are* in my purse. I mean, I think that's where they are as I retrace my last driving of the car, but what if they aren't? Then I will be paying a locksmith for the privelege of getting my purse out of the car in order to pay a cab to take me to work. And that would suck even more than paying a locksmith to get my keys.

Maybe I will start using those clever little hooks just inside the door.

Happy Anniversary

Sweetheart and I celebrated our second anniversary last week. Or rather, he watched television while I went to bed at 7:30. He was incredibly understanding about my malaise (impending sinus infection).

He has been ridiculously supportive of my less than stellar health off and on for our entire marriage. We are watching our money, and for my gift he did something really special. He took his wedding vows, typed them up, and superimposed them over a faint picture of my redhead to your right. He also included a copy of a photo from our first date and gerber daisies (my favorite). I read it and got all weepy. I really am so lucky to be married to such a wonderful husband, friend and Sweetheart.

Bad timing?

Or is it just me?

I have become increasingly aware of television commercials airing at times that seem like they shouldn't. During ball games the male enhancement products seem most popular. At other times like this morning, it's the vaccine for cervical cancer.

I am all for the vaccine, and men who need help should get it. However, I have two ten year olds who watch television with us. So far, we've only had one of them start singing to the tune of "Viva Las Vegas," but I'm afraid for what happens next.

They know the basics about sex and growing up, but impotence and cervical cancer haven't been discussed as yet. We haven't gotten to exactly what an erection is--much less why it shouldn't last more than four hours. I don't really want to start a conversation about sexually transmitted diseases because of something they hear on the television.

Many months ago (prior to the discussion about sex), there was a public service announcement about AIDS. Ears perked up and questions were asked. I was able to answer honestly without fatal STDs preceeding sex in our conversation.

I have been proactive with my discussions with the girls. I don't feel like any topics are off limits, including the ones I mentioned above. However, I do have difficulty with the concept of commercials driving that discussion.

Baby pictures!!

Here are the twins just as cute as they can be. The hatless one is the girl child (Deniece), and the one with the hat is the boy child (Denephew). All four were released from the hospital today. I cannot wait to go see them in 3 weeks!

Why yes, it is time for bullets again

***The niece and nephew are doing well, and so are the new mommy and daddy. She weighed in at 6 lbs 7 oz and he was 7 pounds. That makes 13 and 1/2 freaking pounds of baby, and I think my cervix hurts. I still am lacking any good photos (my father sent me one of her in the bassinette and all I could see was her left ear.), but I am nagging to get them. My father said he has the moment in his mind of my baby brother "memorizing every inch of his son." I can't wait to see them in a few weeks.

***Sammy the cat is so fearless it makes no sense. He is completely comfortable with both cats and the dog--almost too much so. He was chasing Percy and she knocked him down five stairs and he just went back for more. If he tries to eat Spencer's food again, I might just ditch the whole lot of them because the ruckus makes me insane.

***Speaking of the crazy, I can't say I am doing swimmingly. I go back to my shrink on Monday, and he will get an earful of the lethargy, in a funk, tired every moment that my poor husband is putting up with. I feel less anxious, I think, but for the love of god I need some energy!

***My sister has her new chapter blog up and going. You should go visit her as she is far more entertaining than I am as a general rule.

I may never catch up on my blogs, it seems so intimidating. If anyone had anything earth shattering happen that they didn't Tweet, please let me know. And if you aren't twittering, why the hell not?

I have internets again

But, I am too tired to post.

My niece and nephew are here, and I don't have any more details than that "they are beautiful and healthy."

Ike Sucks--but I have the best husband in the world

I thought it was entertaining when I heard a commercial for the Tina Turner concert as I drove to work the last day before Ike arrived. That was the last humorous thing about this fucking storm, and I think I have a way of finding humor where most would not.

We are safe and sound and so is our house. The fence is in pieces (some far too )close to the window of the room where we all four were sleeping). I am forever grateful for that. If the rest of this sounds bitchy, it is just because I am tired.

I returned to work Monday. Power has yet to return to my house--as it has yet to return to more than a million other homes. We do not have a generator, and we have been trying to watch our spending, so we chose not to buy one. It is weird to go to work like "normal" and return to a house without power. This means it stinks, the windows are open so the sounds of generators fill the house, we are eating out of a cooler. I get ready for work daily in the pitch black dark. We have coined a term "Hurricane Malaise." It means sitting staring at each other in a fucking daze with no energy. This has not done wonders for my depression and anxiety which are being med-tweaked at this time. I also realize that many, many others have it far worse than I do. However, last night I just had enough. I started weeping. Not in response to any single thing, but just that I couldn't fucking do it any more.

This is where the wonderful husband comes in. We made reservations at a hotel in San Antonio that has all the things our house does not. And it lacks the stench part. He made the reservation. He packed our suitcase and picked me up at work. I stretched out in the backseat as he drove us away from the place that isn't right.
I asked him to bring my pillow (I have one that is mandatory for my neck, and another that I bring when car traveling.) He brought all four of my pillows as well as my teddy bear (which he hates). Needless to say, I feel better already.

It may take me years to catch up on all my blog reading. Please be patient.

Guardian angels and updates

There is artwork by children all over the place where I work. One group of pictures has been getting my attention lately. Kids were asked to represent their guardian angels, and the results are fascinating.

There are some that look like Glenda the good witch. Others look like more traditional church style angels. However, the ones that catch my eye are the ones that are a bit more unusual. There is a giraffe with wings. There is a hoochie looking girl with a mini skirt, midriff showing and wearing boots. There is a tough looking football player (except for the wings). There is a dog that also has wings. I always wonder if they represent particular people or animals, or just the wonders of a child's imagination.

Thanks so incredibly much for all the comments about Sidney. I wish I could have answered each one personally, but I still get weepy when I talk/write about her. The comments all mean so much to me.

We are hunkering down for Ike and the trouble he will bring. It is eerily quiet here--the proverbial calm before... We have canned goods, candles, lanterns and batteries galore. Oh yes--and alcohol. We are also fortunate to live in an area not prone to flooding and a new construction home built up to post Katrina standards. We may be uncomfortable, but we plan to be very safe. As Poppa said, "At least you have a tall house."

Will check in again as soon as updates are available.

Happy Birthday to Sweetheart!

Happy birthday to my Sweetheart who is older than I am (hee-hee). He no longer blogs, so you will have to wish him a good day from here!

Sidney, baby girl

She was the one her original owners named "Dora" for the Explorer. When we got her at 6 weeks of age, she already had lost the tip of her tail and had a couple of kinks in what was left. I didn't even mean to bring her home--I had gone to et her brother Boris--but she climbed into my lap and I called and asked if I could bring home two. My wonderful husband said, "You do what you need to do." So we ended up with a cat for each of the girls, and unintentially--a cat for each of the grown ups. She was my little baby girl. Boris took to my hubby immediately. She took a bit longer to come around, but (though I love them both dearly) she was mine. She was a talker, and we would meow back and forth at each other. She was always coming into the bathroom when it was bath time...sometimes playing with the water, sometime sitting on the edge of the tub--nibbling my toes when they were offered, sometimes just waiting for her attention on the rug when I was finished.
She always let her brother have the last bite of food--he was the runty one and I guess she realized he needed it more. And anyway, she could always wheedle another treat or two from my husband, so what did it really matter?
Her new favorite sitting place was the windowsill. Not the one pictured that we had left the windows up just for them, but the one in the kitchen where she could rustle the blinds as she hid behind them. She still gave out kitten kisses to those who deserved them. She was much more tolerant of being picked up and handled by the girls than her brother. She was battling it out with Percy for Queen of the Castle, and I don't think that a winner had yet been crowned.

Tonight her "exploring" got the best of her. We let them outside at dusk, and we check on them often during the less than hour they are usually out. We always keep the door open for them to return--though they seldom do. They chase bugs, prowl in the grasses as their larger cousins do, and stretch on the cement warmed by the day of sun. Tonight she climbed the fence into the next yard. Unfortunately a yard populated by two large dogs. Hubby heard a ruckus, and we ran next door. It was too late just that fast. There wasn't a mark on her, but she was gone--limp, lifeless. I wrapped her in a towel and let the other animals smell her. (I remember reading somewhere that was a good thing to do for them.) Then, we took her to the emergency vet where she will be picked up for cremation on Monday.

We still have to tell the girls. I dread that with every molecule in my being. Sweetheart wondered out loud if it was even worth it to have animals. I know that it is, but this is the hardest part of it without a doubt.

I have had cats my whole life and I have let them go outside always--usually with less supervision than these had. I will not do that again. I have lost many pets, but none of them in such a quick and harsh manner. When my elderly dog Sadie was ill, I had the name of the facility for cremation on the fridge. I know now it needs to be there always--not just when you think you will need it.

I learned that what my mother told me as a child was true. "Having animals means that you will lose them. I often wondered if we shouldn't have them because of that. I decided that the joy they bring is worth having to deal with losing them."

She was so right. I will miss you Sidney. The little bitch. My baby girl. The kitten that belonged to my daughter but completely stole my heart.

Channeling Mother (or the dining room is finally put together)

I look so much like my mother did, that it sometimes scares me. I need to find and scan a picture of me, Mother, and Carson (who will hopefully be back to blogging soon!) when the three of us appear to be sisters.

Every once in a while, I do something that makes me think I am becoming more like her. Some days that is a good thing, and some days not. ;-) Today was a good day. Thanks to a book that Sarah blogged about, "The Big Ass Book of Crafts," I created some modern art for my dining room. I was fairly apprehensive about the end results, but I approached it with a positive attitude. Both of my daughters agreed that it turned out better that the one in the book.

I started with the colors from the rugs in the den and hallway. (Yes those are my toes that I failed to crop out.)



I proceeded to make a huge mess at the kitchen table, ue to the severe lack of a studio. In fact, Sweetheart said, "Oh my god," when he came in and I thought it meant he hated the painting.



Turns out he thought it was acceptable to go on the walls, and so did I. (Yes, my poor elephant teapot has a broken trunk and I don't seem to have any glue in the house.)



Then, I went to the antique store and spent under forty dollars for several items I found interesting, and hung them up on the other wall. I had the boomerang from an old antique store purchase more than ten years ago. The funky old key was from Mother's house when she made a similar arrangement (maybe even before I was born). The red item on the left is an old fashioned nutcracker. The miniature bowling pin is a prize from someone whose high score was 267. The vertical piece on the right is a wooden shoe size measurer. The horizontal piece on the bottom is a hand carved bat that was painted and appears to have been used at least a few times to play baseball by a child in Mexico.



My favorite item was purple glass that I found fascinating. There were several, and I had no idea what they were, but I loved this and had to have it. Turns out it is an antique buoy from the pre-plastic days. I was so glad that I picked it up not knowing. I may have to get more for the bedroom when I get ready to finish that up.



If I can manage some similar bursts of energy in future weekends, perhaps the house will be "finished" sometime this decade.

The this and the that

***We are ready for Hurricane Gustav not to show up. We have water, ice, soup and sterno. We have some other more fun, less practical snacky things as well--cookies, cheez its and the like. The night before landfall, I will fill up a jillion bottles with water. And, then, if all goes according to past schedule, we will have rain, flooding in other areas of the city, and life will go on.

***I have seen the following tshirts worn by kids at the hospital, and I don't like them:
"I may be small, but I'm still in charge"
"Rules don't apply to me"
"I should have stayed in bed today"
The first two were worn by patients around 5 years old. I hate these attitude shirts with a passion. The last was worn by an employee. Despite the fact it had Snoopy on it, I though it was highly inappropriate to wear to work.

**The prize of the week, goes to the mother who brought a blanket along to the recovery room--decorated with Playboy bunnies. Um, okay, whatever.

***I am working on a funky modern art thng for the dining room. I'll show it to you--success or failure.

**Today is the first day of "Daddy Days" with the girls. Sweetheart is going to start spending time with them one at a time, and I have to take up the slack. I am actually excited about spending solo time, and very glad he and they will be building their individual relationships.

So, what do you have planned for the weekend?

Yes, I went there, and I had fun

***severe inconsistency in punctuation. I apologize to those whm it offends.****

I purchased tickets for the American Idol Top Ten concert in Houston last night--initially for the girls and me. However, due to a lack of current interest on their part, and today being the first day of school, we chose not to go with that plan. We tried to sell the tickets, and had no luck. The final verdict was that I went with a friend from work.

The seats were great--I actually thought I was in the wrong place when I came up against the cordoned off area and then realized it was the right place--the seats were that good.

I was pleased with the format--each of the top ten were able to sing three songs. I was afraid it was going to be a bunch of the group songs that we heard just a bit too much of during the season.

Here are the things I remember. I don't listen to current music--so I did not recognize many of the songs.

Chikieze came out first. He was personable, dancing and in good voice.

Ramiele--still a little power house, far less timid than before.

Michael Johns--(voted off far too early IMHO) came up out of the stage like a true rock star "We Are The Champions," "It's So Wrong but It's So Right," "Dream On." Absolutely great and wonderful.

Kristy Lee--I have as little use for her now as ever, but the crowd loved her. "God Bless the USA."

Carly--How could I have forgotten about her? She looked great, and while I am not the biggest fan of her geisha tattoo if I were going to have a girl crush on a rocker chick it would be her. Crazy on You, and the old Cyndi Lauper "Drove All Night"

Brooke--great reception from the crowd, "Let it be" and two on guitar--one I believe was an original song "Yellow." I love her and would buy her CD if I had any money right now.

Jason--still stoned and cute and dreamy eyed. "Over the Rainbow" and "What a day for a day dreamer."

Syesha--my only disappointment for the night. I thought the vocals were muddy for her songs. She looked great, though

David A.--screaming teenyboppers galore. He sounded good (and was said to be sick) and he has matured a bit. Just not my cup of tea.

David Cook--kicked ass with a rocking, angry version of "Hello" (Lionel Ritchie). Amazingly good. "This is the Time of My Life." "Don't Want to Miss a Thing" and "Hero." He was personable, had good banter and stage presence, and was gracious and somewhat awed by the reception (or did a good job faking it). He videoed the crowd, "So I have something to remember when you crown next year's Idol and I'm on the Where Are They Now? show."

I was pleasantly surprised, to be honest. I love the show, but didn't really think the show would be up my alley. I would have showed up for "Hello" alone. Well, that and Carly Smithson. :-)

What shows have you seen lately?

Not a banner hour or so

***I went to see the doctor about my back today. However, the appointment was yesterday....and I waited for 15 minutes to be told I could reschedule for September.

***Since I had an appointment, and I was starving, I went to get some fast food. This was ill afforded by my wallet and my waist.

***The parking lot at the office complex doesn't take plastic, so I went to a bank and used the ATM. As I walked back through the bank, the teller asked, "Did you leave your card in the machine?" I checked my wallet, and sure enough I had. Not only could she not give it back to me, she informed me that it had been cut in half.

***At least I didn't lock my keys in the car, huh?

What I want for my birthday

(or, why don't you visit Sarah's etsy store)

Sarah, who blogs over at Maison Pants has really started moving things like crazy ar her Etsy store. You should go take a quick look and buy me the She Was Only Dreaming painting. I would buy it for myself, but I already am saving my money for a painting for my twin pregnant sister-in-law that she is doing on commission. When I get to show it to you, you will be so jealous you won't know what to do.

Anyway, unlike my crafty things, her stuff is really art. Go check it out. Now.
Maison Pants Etsy

For lack of a real topic...

Cattitude
Boris the spider, erm, cat has decided that his favorite new perch is up high on the window. I actually think he looks way the hell cute up there, but his path to get there involves traipsing across Sweetheart's shelves. He has so far knocked off nothing breakable, but he is a cat, so I think he is certain to do so soon. I looked online and it said to put tinfoil because they don't like to walk on it. I just watched him amble across it like it was no big deal. Any thoughts so my Sweetheart doesn't kill our daughter's favorite cat?

Grammar don'ts--
For me, it is a misplaced apostrophe. It makes me get all squiggy. For instance, as Christmas card signed: Love, The Smith's. I think I have the tiniest of strokes just typing it. For Sweetheart, it is the misuse of the word "I." When someone says, "This belongs to Boris and I," his head gets squiggy. He yells at the television, "Boris and ME!"
Which common mistakes give you pause? If any of them are in this post, please feel free to tell me.

Commercials that irk me--
There was a diamond store commercial (F--sorry, don't get squiggy) the other day that actually offended me. It was a guy talking about being afraid his woman would not let him participate in the Fantasy League draft or watch enough football games this season. His solution--but her diamonds. I was insulted with the concept that it was a "pay to play" situation. I may be naive, but are many women like that and I just don't know them?

It would be simpler

I am not by any stretch of the imagination trying to start a debate about politics or abortion with this post. I welcome any comments you care to make, but I am not trying to sway any opinions.

I was watching the television news in the break room at work with another nurse, and something about Obama was shown. She said, "He scares me." I replied (as light heartedly as possible), "McCain scares me more."

What followed was a very brief conversation about politics. Her bottom line was this, "I'm a Catholic first, so I can't vote for anyone who is pro abortion." Now, don't get me started on the phrase 'pro abortion.' I have some very mixed feelings about the abortion issue, but I end up in the pro choice category when it all sifts out. I am against abortion, but I don't think I should be making that choice for everyone.

What struck me was the fact that her choice of who to vote for was so simple. It is dictated by a single issue. I worry about a myriad of issues including the economy, the environment, equal rights for everyone, upholding that silly thing called the constitution, separation of church and state, and on and on ad nauseam.

I do not want to trade places with that nurse. I do not want to have her view of things. However, it did strike me that she has an easier task of picking who she votes for than many people I know. Sometimes I wish it were that easy for me.

Things about today

1. I took care of some kids with some weird names.

2. I ate a hot dog for charity (yes, it was a sacrifice).

3. The kids and the Sweetheart got kicked out of the pool for a "pooping" incident (no, they were not the poopers).

4. I met with an attorney as a result of my nursing career (a first in 21 years). I'm told I would make a bright, articulate, knowledgeable witness--let's hope I don't get to test that concept.

5. I got my car back from the shop, and I missed it so much I want to name it. Any ideas about what to name a really cute, blue Honda CRV?

6. I hope to get some work done of some craft/home decor projects. Anybody wanna help?

Three things

1. It is too hot for humans in Houston. I truly believe that we should not live somewhere that is so close to our own body temperature this many days a year. It is wrong.

2. This is officially the earliest I have ever seen Christmas stuff. August 11. Sheesh!

3. If your last name has three or four syllables, do not give your child a name with more than two syllables. This should be a rule followed by everyone.

A sense of ennui

I just don't feel exactly right these days. I feel like I am behind on my blogging and blog reading. Work feels so much more like work than usual. I didn't get nearly as much accomplished this weekend as I had hoped.

Perhaps it is because of the incredibly oppressive heat here in Houston. Today the high was 96 degrees. The humidity is absurd. I didn't even go outside today, though, so how would that affect me?

My new car is in the shop getting a new rack and pinion. I have no idea what a rack and pinion is, but I do not like my rental car. I know the rack and pinion helps the steering, and having the car go where I steer it is a good thing. Hopefully the car will be ready on Tuesday.

We had a rough week with the girls after we returned from the reunion, and I know that drags on me. I got as frustrated as ever with Brownie, and yelled at her like never before. I'm not proud of it, but I am also trying not to beat myself up about it. I think we are making progress, but it was a fairly big "one step backward." I think I got so upset because she was lying, and that scares the shit out of me. If lying becomes a habit, we are in for a hell of a mess. Perhaps the fact that I got so mad will end up having an impact--even though I wish I hadn't.

I also think my listlessness may be due to the fact that we had two trips fairly close together and now have nothing planned.

The best thing lately is that my sister has a closing date on her house and will be divorced sometime this decade if nothing goes awry. I am thrilled about this to no end!

So, tell me something else to be happy about. You can even make it up if you want.

Etsy shop

Well, since you guys seem to like the letters, I went ahead and listed them on etsy. I would love any feedback (positive or negative) that you have about the listing. I know I need to work on the photos, but I have put everything I was working on in packages!

If you know anyone who might like some letters, please send them to visit. I hope to have a few other items up soon.

Sophie's Etsy Shop

Political opinions ahead

I'm not trying to sway anyone's opinion, or to hurt anyone's political feelings, but I found this conversation very entertaining.

Scene--watching the Opening ceremonies which were amazing and beautiful and a really tough act to follow. I found the beauty of combining the traditional with the contemporary technology a pleasure to watch.

Brownie--Are there any Americans there other than that stupid President Bush?

Sophie--Why is Bush stupid?

Brownie--Because he started a war and he didn't have a good reason and millions of people have died.

I found it interesting for a couple of reasons. It made me realize that she pays WAY more attention to the things we say than I ever thought. I also wonder (as have the kids) who their mother is voting for. I believe her politics to be more conservative than ours, but I don't know where she stands. I suppose it means nothing more than that she and her (now ex) boyfriend don't talk politics like we do.

I keep waiting to get in trouble for the indoctrination. However, they simply hear us talk and we answer questions when they ask.

Picture quiz

Who can guess which photo was at the start or our airport time and which was after ten hours?




They were not happy about the taking of the second photo, but I like the comparison in a backwards kind of way.

This storm is killing me!

Above is the stunning view from the front door. We have power! We have water! We have telephone.

We have been forced to stay home in the rain and drizzle. Spencer is nervous, but he is always nervous. He doesn't like getting drizzled on. I have had to endure hours of hearing the 10 year olds play on the computer. Sweetheart has hardly ventured out of the bedroom. My projects will take far too long for the paint to dry in this dampness.

I guess I need to wait for another day to get my hurricane baptism.

I knew I didn't like that Eduord

In preparation for my first hurricane, which seems unavoidable as of now, we have done the following...

Purchased a fairly small amount of food rations
Found a large amount of batteries for our tv/radio and battery powered fan
Brought home lanterns from work (hubby)
Gotten off work for tomorrow (both of us)
Baked cookies
Purchased wine and put the Mike's on ice
Declined the option to pick up my mother in law since her nursing home isn't evacuating. We don't take her out to lunch any more, we certainly can't take her to a hurricane!

It appears that this will be a smallish, introductory hurricane for this redhead, but losing power is very likely. See you after he leaves!

Airport timeline

0850 Arrive at airport slightly later than intended.
0930 Missed flight--bummer on any day, with 2 ten-year-olds on the way to a reunion--more bummerish. Told to standby and that if we didn't get on the first two flights, "The 4 PM one is wide open."
1057 Do not get on standby.
207pm Do not get on standby.
440pm Do not get on "wide open" standby.
Pay $300 for confirmed tickets on the 722 flight. Go home for 2 hours so kids do not lose their minds.
630pm Return to airport. Discover that our confirmed flight is delayed 3 hours for weather. Make hotel reservation to spend night in Atlanta before driving 90 miles north to the reunion.
1000pm Announcement that delay will be until 2AM. Cancel hotel reservation (without penalty due to nice and understanding person). Go home wash the clothes on our bodies and put them back on after a brief amount of sleep. (luggage was already sent to Atlanta.)
0800 Get up and start over. Unable to go standby for 0930 flight. It is now 1011 and the 1057 flight is advertised as on time. There might be bloodshed if it is not. Yowza.

Are we having fun yet?

The transaction

Parents-Whose turn is it to get in the shower first?

Kids--Blondie's

Blondie (to Brownie)--I'll pay you $5 in cold, hard cash to take yours first.

Brownie--Okay

Blondie rethinks and now offers $2, and is negotiated back up to $3. Money actually changes hands.

Brownie--I'll do anythng for money!

Parents--Oh, that's nice to know.

I know I am a bit compulsive

I make lists for traveling. I am way too concerned about not having something that is needed. However, I think it qualifies as taunting when my dear husband takes my list and adds his items (inside the black box).



Is it really necessary to call such attention to my obsessions? I think not.

The post that didn't make sense

This post is not going to make sense, and I know that in advance. It is 6 in the morning, and I am awake. If I were working, I might be tolerable, but I just called in, go you figure it out.

I woke up with csats yammering at the door, a huge headache from drugs (legal) and pain in my back and hip. I was also dreaming that Sweetheart thought I had a drug problem and insisted on confronting me in front of the kids and his ex.

I know my back is a mess because I worked two 10 hour shifts, and I will be going to my doctor to get a note that I cannot work that long. I know I have a shitty back, but I signed up for 8 hour shifts for a reason. Ugh.

There were two deaths in my personal neighborhood this week. My aunt who was 54 years old with a 19 year old daughter died from a respiratory disease. She had been in the hospital a couple of weeks, and I thought this would be the outcome. Since the funeral was in Charlotte yesterday, I knew I wouldn't make it--particularly as we are having our family reunion this weekend. How strange is that. However, as my father said, "There isn't any good place to be, so might as well have them where peoplc care about them."

The other death was my best friend's father. He also had been sick for a while and was of a more appropriate age. It was interesting that I felt more compelled to see her and hug her neck than my uncle's. I do love my uncle and cousin, but they aren't part of my routine. My friend is. I talk to her at least twice a week, and definitely feel more connected. Turns out the reunion is just a bit too far for me to drive over to see her--unless she calls and says, "okay--get here no matter what." So far, she and her mom are doing great and things are not at that point.

I think ir will make the reunion a bit weird. We already have my sister's Can't Come Soon Enough Divorce on the table for discussion, and now this. I think it will be more light hearted than it sounds (we all use humor to deal with stress), but that is what it will be.

To be honest, I am selfishly hoping that the girls have fun with the pack of cousins, Sweetheart gets some quiet time to get to know my family, and I get time to sit on my ass and paint my toenails. Anything else is a bonus. All this can only happen after we get the girls packed (god help us), so wish me luck!

Happy Birthday to the twins!

Brownie and Blondie turned TEN today. They spent the day playing their new Wii at their mom's. I don't know how they can be 10, but I'm glad they have had a good day. Here's hoping the tweens don't kill us all!

I need some feedback

Here are a few more examples of the letters I have painted. I really like how Lil Wicked's turned out. I also now know that high noon is the only time I can get enough light to show details.

What I am wondering is this...
Do you guys think I could sell these letters on Etsy?
How much do you think would be reasonable?
Any brilliant ideas of how to mount them on the wall? (I was thinking those little cloth hooks or tiny sawtooth hooks.)
Anyone else ever sell anything on Etsy?

Some additional information...
They are 4" tall and 1/4" wide (deep?). The letters cost 50 cents, but if I sell them I may go to a "fancier" one that costs $1. The paint is about 75 cents for 2 ounces, and I don't know how much I use on each letter. I am very clear that I fall in the "crafty" category rather than the "artist" category, and I am okay with that and think it should be reflected in the pricing. Any tidbits of advice would be greatly appreciated.

Naming contest

Here are all the various names entered into the contest. I knew nobody would guess. The names are Noah (guessed by nobody) and Jameson (amazingly, also guessed by nobody). I should have made it into one of those "how many words can you make out of these letters" games.

Jonah
James and Hannoo
Mason and Janeho
Hanna and Jemoos
Jonah and Amenos
Joanne and Shamo
Josh and No Name
James and Noonah
Nanooh
Hoonan
Ann...ooh
Jonah and Menosa
John and Seamona
Jason and Neamh? (But I'm short an O. But I like the Neamh, it's an Irish name).
Mason & Johnsea?
Jonas & Noameh?
James, hanna, anna, hejooms, lol. IDK
Shamen and Jonas
Soon & Hamanej

And so, I wrote all the names on small pieces of paper and then had Blondie pick one. The winner is...............................
................Wicked H!

So, let me know if you want it to say Smelly and Lil Wicked or their real names, okay?? I love the fact that I know almost everyone who entered as well as who the important little ones are in their lives. I may not be leaving my job to blog, but I really enjoy you guys. Thanks for your participation!

It would have helped if I mentioned this part

I will be stunned and amazed if anyone gets the girl name. It is a family name and not very girly. You are eligible for a prize just for guessing--that's why I said it could be half-assed. I failed to take into account the determination of some readers. I will put the names of guessers as of midnight Thursday into a hat and pick a winner.

A small contest

I painted letters for my yet-to-be-born niece and nephew. The room is a jungle theme. Showing them here is against my usual pseudonym policy, but the letters are not in order. And even if you figured them out, what would you do about it? Well, anyone who ventures even a half-assed guess will get a set of letters for the cool kid or grown-up in their lives...assuming you can trust me with their names.



The winner can (of course) choose the color theme for their letters. These are made for a jungle nursery.

Crafty kind of weekend--sort of

We figured out at the last minute that Friday would be the last weekend night the girls would be with us before their birthday. We decided to give them their presents so they could enjoy them Friday and Saturday.

I also thought for sure there would be some cake pan or instructions on the interwebs on making a cake or cupcakes that look like these guys.....



Well, there were not any pans at the store or instructions, so I had to go out on my own. At first I began documenting like any half-assed blogger would....





Then, I realized there was no way in hell I would be finished before they got home. I was scrambling, and finally finished in the bedroom. The frosting was store bought, and much mushier than what we used for the guitar. It shows in the final product, but the girls were way freaking pleased--even more than I thought they might be. Just for the record--blue and black frosting make for very weird looking lips and tongues.


I also finally did the ribbon bulletin boards for the girls' room. I am now very excited about getting the room painted and finall "done."



My husband says it is in poor taste to blog that I caught my stepdaughter brushing hair not on her head with my bath brush. What do you think?

You might need a nap if......

......you make Tuna Helper and forget to put the sauce packet in the pan. You do not realize this until you taste it and it has no taste. Then your loving husband Twitters it, but who can blame him, really?

Visiting the place of my birth

I am still recovering from the trip last week, and I don't think I can really do it justice. Suffice it to say that we had a great time. The music was good, the visiting even better, and it was tainted by minimal drama and a touch of rain.

I was born in Fort Sill Army Hospital because (good guess) my father was in his 2 year stint when I was born. I don't remember anything about living there, and I have always wanted to see it. My sister and brother were born at hospitals down the road from where we grew up, and it seemed weird. As I have grown attached to Oklahoma through this annual festival and Woody Guthrie, my Okie roots have become more important to me. However, it is more than a short drive from where we stay to
where I was born. My friend T. agreed to go with me this year. The trip from our hotel to Ft. Sill and then to the airport was supposed to be 3 1/2 hours. We left the hotel at 8:30 in the morning, thinking we would have about an hour to see the hospital and living quarters--then head to the airport to pick up the friends arriving at 1PM.

Well, as you may have guessed, it was a bit more complicated than that. I think it took longer to drive to Ft. Sill than the map seemed to indicate. We arrived at the base and found armed guards. We immediately wondered if we would even be allowed on the property. They scanned our driver's licenses. I got a green light and my friend got a yield sign. Evidently, she has a name and ID number very similar to hers who perhaps is not the most upstanding citizen.

Everyone was very nice and helpful. When I asked where the hospital was, they asked, "The old one or the new one?" I said the old one, but it missed me by a couple of years. Mine was the one built in 1962, just 3 years before I was born.

We then found out that Geronimo has a grave site there, and it became a mission. It was about 4 miles off the map, and we passed it without seeing it the first time. When we asked some guys doing construction if they knew where it was, they literally pointed over their shoulders.

Geronimo's grave was decorated with a pyramid of red native stones and a statue of a bird. People had left trinkets ranging from peppermints to tobacco to figurines. I was pretty impressed to see the place where he had once been held captive be treated with such respect.

Okay, from the rambliness of the post, I can tell I am still too tired. More from me later.

I'm "ga-xhausted"

I had a fabulous trip which I will detail perhaps tomorrow or Wednesday. Here are a few teasers....

My husband (fairly gracefully) tolerated the antics of me and one of my girlfriends goofballing all the way to Okemah, Oklahoma. It took us 10 hours to get there, and when it was just hea and I it took just over 8. He called it a "forced death march" even though we did want to go, we just were having fun along the way.

I saw Geronimo's gravesite.

The weather was a balmy 96ish instead of the 110ish we have seen other years.

The music and friendship was awesome.

The clouds hiding the sun were almost as good.

I am so freaking tired I can hardly see.

I will try to catch up on blogs and commenting soon--but bloglines is looking rather intimidating at the moment.

My neti pot is getting much use this week. I hate allergies.

Judy Collins can still hit the high notes.

Just a Quickie

Arrived safely in Okemah, not much time to spare after a long drive.

Great show by Country Joe McDonald. He focused on Woody Guthrie, but the encore was his Infamous "Viet Nam Rag," as seen on the Woodstock video "follow the bouncing ball." It gave me goose bumps.

Later, I'll have to catch up with all of you when I return. Be good and have lots of fun.

Randomness

It doesn't even qualify as bullets, because that would mean more organization.

I am thrilled to the point of pathology that Dove has a new deodorant that smells like grapefruit. I love anything citrusy for cleaning, bathing, etc. When I saw the commercial, I wanted to go to the store right then.

My boss called and asked me to work past my usual shift today. I informed her that I had an appointment. She asked, "What time?" I thought that was terribly intrusive and it hacked me off.

I got innundated with patients today and some of them had to wait more than an hour for me to see them. I felt really bad being the one with the chart to whom everyone looked hopefully when I went to the waiting room.

I asked my husband nicely if he would watch "The Bachelorette" with me tonight. His reply was, "Can I trade sex for watching it?" Sheesh, men.

I passed a post total of 500 between this one and the old one.

Sidney (the cat) is both obsessed and terrified of the vacuum.

When I asked him about the decor for the nursery, my brother (who has twins on the way) said, "Nursery?" Turns out it it "Jungle," but when I asked for further details (such as brand name), he said, "The usual kind, monkeys, lions, giraffes." My brother is as cool and weird as I am. He wasn't for the longest time...I'm glad he is now.

Leaving Wednesday morning for our annual trip to the Woody Guthrie folk festival. I am very, very excited. My wonderful, bestest friend from Philly is flying in tomorrow night and will drive up with us. I can't wait.

When we gave my father gray hairs

We all know that we have given our parents many gray hairs over the years, but one event in particular came to my mind this week.

I think I was about 13 years old, so that would make the step down of the sibs to be 12, 11, 10 and 8. Add my sister's friend so end up with another 11 year old to the mix. For some reason, my father chose to take all of us to the mall to purchase my stepmother's birthday gift. I think in retrospect, he would consider this a bad decision.

This was during the time of arcades--you know those places full of video games that kids today don't have to frequent because they have everything at their fingertips. My little brother and stepbrother were frequent attendees of arcades.

I'm unsure of the exact timeline of events, but the bottom line was this. All the kids got separated from each other, and my father couldn't find more than a couple of us at a time. He'd put us someplace and tell us to stay and go look for some more. When he returned, the ones he had 'caught' before would have gone away.

At one point, he gave my brothers the present to watch. They weren't paying much attention (Pac Man was getting that) and somebody nicked the present. My sister (at some point) went out to where she thought the car was and didn't see it. So she walked home. I think it was about 3 miles, much further (and on busier streets) than was reasonable even way back then. Somehow my father ultimately rounded us all up and we made it home--but still minus a present I'm sure he couldn't afford to lose.

The reason I remember this event is that I believe it was the last time I was spanked. My father called them "bashes," and they were doled out in specific numbers. We would be folded over his knee and get popped with an open hand. That day, we each got the number to match our age. Somehow the topic of spanking came up this week, and I remembered. When I talked to my dad he remembered also, and managed to laugh about it.

This wasn't the worst thing I ever did as a kid, but it was up there as far as trauma caused to a parent. How about you? When was one of the times you made your parents wish they never had kids?

Relaxing a bit

I won't get into the details here (they are boring and we have moved on), but this past weekend was a significant low point for me. The problems with Brownie seemed to take a big spike, and Sweetheart and I were just not on the same page about things. I now wonder if we were even in the same book. I was so discouraged that my stomach hurt, my head ached, and I wanted to hide under the covers and cry. I didn't do that exactly, but certainly took cover for a bit.

Last Tuesday the girls were here again, and I was really stressed about it. As it turned out, there was indeed another meltdown, but Sweetheart and I both took steps in the appropriate directions as far as dealing with it. And her reaction was different. It is such a relief to get evidence that what you are doing is a good thing because it is really hard to do even though you know it is a good thing. I hope you know what I mean, because I cannot possibly rewrite that sentence.

Then Brownie had her first session with the counselor. She initially didn't want to go, but left really excited about it. The therapist gave us positive feedback about her willingness to talk, her level of insight, and (yay) the fact that she did include me in the picture she drew of her family. (many steps do not do this--they still see their family as siblings and bio parents only.)

I am encouraged, and this is a good thing. I still feel stressed out, but not to the same degree. I am looking forward to an almost 3 day weekend (4 hours of call on Sunday), and then just working 2 days next week. We are going to a music festival with some amazing friends, and it will be good for all.

Have a happy and safe weekend.

Questions

Who else is wasting their life watching The Bachelorette?

What was the mother thinking who brought her child for surgery wearing earrings the size of an orange that said "sexy," a snug ass tshirt that said "Girls Rule" and the tightest jeans ever with the back pockets removed?

Why can't I start my time off work tomorrow instead of a week from tomorrow?

When did they rid of the little "spit sink" at the dentist office?

Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?

How did I end up with so many mongrels?

Any answers? Any more questions?

Conversation with Blondie

While changing the earrings of the Blonde one tonight (who is still a bit squeamish)

Blondie: (said with much drama) From the bottom of my heart, will you please be gentle with me? I'm a sensitive woman.
Sophie: You are not a woman yet.
Blondie: (giggles) Yeah, I know but it sounds better like that.

Then, a few moments later the two of them are talking like Valley Girls, and they know they are talking like Valley Girls. How the hell do two kids born in 1998 know about Valley Girls??

What I didn't think I was doing today

Buying a new car. Since everything in the world costs significantly more this week than it did a year ago, we traded in my Pilot for a Honda CRV.

Our monthly payment is going down more than $100, and our gas usage should decrease significantly. The color is called Royal Blue Pearl, and it is brighter in person than in the photo. I like the color, and it is what they had available, but the name Red Tango Pearl made me smile.

Sweetheart is happy about the amount of room now available in the garage, and so am I. I did have to forego my steering wheel radio controls and my "way back" seating, but it rides nicely, and saving the money makes me smile.

I'm hoping the next car I purchase will be a hybrid.

The doctor is in

I went for my first appointment with my new crazy doc yesterday. He had clearly reviewed the notes from his partner who dumped me and moved to Connecticut where Autumn actually exists.

He was one of those people who just exudes smartness. Some people talk smart, and some people just are smart. He had some good ideas about diet, nutrition and yoga which made me very happy. Since I am a nurse, I obviously have faith in western medicine. However, I think we don't know as much as we think we do. He gave me so much information in a short period of time, that I had a hard time processing it, and I was paying attention.

So, I am now taking large amounts of Omega 3 fatty acids, vitamin e, and drinking whey protein shakes. I will have to wait until August to really start with the yoga, because I am going to be out of town twice in July.

He did also add one more traditional medication to my cocktail. I was afraid he would want to take me off the Effexor (which I have heard is a bitch), but that was not at all in his thinking. He added a small dose of Abilify. I feel like I have graduated, because this is a medication in the category of Major Tranquilizers. That is the category of drugs used to treat schizophrenics. However, the newest ones have been used successfully in very small doses as an adjunct for depression and anxiety.

I would love to go to bed at night without taking a sleeping pill with a small amount of confidence that I might actually sleep through the night. I would love to be able to stop taking my anti anxiety meds on a regular basis. I don't mind being on some meds, I am after all the proud owner of 3 psychiatric diagnoses. Major depression, generalized anxiety disorder, and now (due to being the insurance holder for the therapy we are doing with Brownie--and insurance companies require a diagnosis) Adjustment disorder.

I'm really hoping this new approach works, because I'm ready to be less crazy then I am....as long as I don't get to be completely normal, because that would just be wrong.

Weekend report

Brownie has been taking hip hop dance lessons since January, and today was the big recital.

The thing about recitals is that there are a jillion kids and nearly 50 performances, and I only cared about one. The THIRTY-SECOND one. Yes, the kids are cute, yes the costumes are adorable, but how many times can you say "aaaaaw" and how many times can you giggle at the ones who just can't quite get it right?

The little girl sitting next to me was way cute. She was about four years old and started talking to me out of the blue. The show was Sleeping Beauty, and when Malificent made her first appearance, the little girl was quick to assure me that everything would work out okay. A bit later, there was a dance of forest cougars. When the mice came out a few numbers later, she said, "If those cougars come back, those mice are going to get eaten up."

It was two hours into the show before Brownie performed. The number didn't exactly go as planned, but Brownie looked good and was smiling the whole time. We gave her the flowers and lots of hugs. I don't think she will be taking dance again in the fall, but I think it has been a good thing for her.

As a bonus, Blondie came over for the long morning of dress rehearsal. It was nice to have some one on one time with her. She helped me with a craft project and gave me the wonderful compliment, "You should sell this stuff in stores." I don't really believe her, but it was a totally sweet thing to say.

This upcoming week is so busy. I have an appointment with my new shrink on Tuesday. My last one moved away (bitch), and I am seeing a colleague in her office I have yet to meet. It is a male doctor, and I haven't ever gone to a psych person with a Y chromosome before. I hope he has some brilliant ideas that do not involve a horrid withdrawal from Effexor but will help me get rid of the anxiety symptoms I just cannot seem to shake. Wednesday I go to get my first crown seated and get prepped for the second one. I totally dread it, but I know I will be glad when it is done. Then, Sweetheart and I have appointment #2 with the child specialist. I feel good about the progress we made the first session, and I want to keep going. I think it is clear that we will likely be bringing Brownie in herself sooner than later.

Happy week everyone? What does this week have in store for you?

Brownie says....

"If you are wondering why I am wearing a sweater when it isn't cold (87 degrees), I'll tell you. It's what's known as a fashion statement."

I suppose it is clear that I don't have any fashion sense of my own.

One of the reasons....

...that I am in love with and entertained by my husband.

We purchased a cheaper brand of canned cat food (Aristocats), and Little Miss Sidney turned up her nose at it. Percy and Boris liked it just fine, so I figured she could just get the hell over it, I didn't ever give my animals canned food at all before we moved to Houston.

He went out and purchased a carton of Fancy Feast because, "It isn't fair for her to be left out of the nightly treat time."

He's the nice one in our relationship...in case you hadn't figured it out by now.

Conversation with Brownie

Last night Brownie came into the bedroom as I was changing out of work clothes. She asked me to stay in there a minute so she could "talk about puberty."

She proceeded to rail about having to wear a bra, growing hair, wearing deodorant and having acne. However, the WORST thing about puberty (evidently) is the boys. I suppose it has to do with the fact that the girls are starting to like the boys but they don't WANT to like the boys, since (as we all know--boys are stinky).

The conversation meandered a bit to this point. "When we see women with big boobies, we call them Monster Trucks." Okay, kid, whatever you say.

"I bet you can guess what we are talking about when we say Oscar Mayers." Yep, I think my tired brain can even figure that one out. "I don't know why we even talk about weiners." To myself...'talk all you want, just don't you dare even THINK of getting anywhere close to one, okay.'

***Later at bathtime. Brownie says, "Blondie says I have monster trucks!" I replied, "You only have matchbox cars, sweetie." "You mean those little toy cars?" she asked. I replied that yes, those were what I had in mind. She thought a second and decided that matchbox cars were acceptable.


>>>>On a related note, a friend at work reported that her 10 year old son approached her very seriously. "Mom, I was reading about puberty, and I think I have it."

Next patient, please

I managed somehow to find an in network provider that seemed like a good possible fit for us (location and specialty). I called her, and she's on maternity leave. Oh crap, I think, now I have to start the whole search again. However, she had someone covering for her in the same office. Miracle of miracles, she was also on the plan, and she seemed like a reasonable person when we spoke briefly on the phone about what was going on. And, she had an opening tomorrow which we were able to fit into our schedule. I hope this is a good sign of things to come. Sweetheart and I have talked about what our goals are and what we hope to get accomplished. I am very optimistic about things. I know it won't be easy, but I also know that we can make it work.

I was quite amazed by the mound of paperwork that she emailed me to complete prior to the session. It wasn't health history, it was all the stuff she had to tell us to cover her ass. "I understand that there is no guarantee regarding the duration of treatment or that I will benefit from counseling. I understand taht therapy may deal with sensitive or difficult topics and may elicit uncomfortable emotions."

Well, no shit. You mean if I don't work hard/have a good relationship/good fit with the therapist, it might not work?

Therapy isn't EASY? Oh yeah, if it were easy then I wouldn't have to PAY someone to help me deeal with this shit.

Then there were the Office Guidelines (which translate to common sense things but we have to spell it out for the idiots).
Do not allow your children to play in the elevator.
Take your child to the bathroom before the session.
Do not leave your minor child unattended in the waiting room.
We expect ther to be a need for snacks prior to afternoon and evening sessions. For your convenience, we have placed trash cans in each office.

I know that they wrote these because there have been parents who dropped their kids off to walk to the office, played in the elevator, and left trash all over the place, and generally made a nuisance of themselves. Give me a break!

When I first was in therapy about half my life ago, all I did was make an appointment and show up. None of the shit about no promises of success, that it wasn't magical fairy dust, and that I had to behave like a human and not an animal. How weird!

Sophie the Evil Stepmother

I honestly do not know how anyone does this job well. There are many roles I think I do acceptably. Nurse, wife, daughter, friend, sister. Generally good person in life. However, I have never been so stymied in all my days as I am now. Stepmother, who the hell manages that one right? If you do, I give you all the accolades I can find.

We knew today might be tough. The girls were just back from a week long camp, and they were exhausted. What we did not know was that the first tantrum would happen within three steps into the house. It involved (of all things) the wrong color pair of flip flops and resulted in meltdown. Screaming in her sister's face, wailing that life wasn NEVER EVER fair, and throwing a water bottle. The last action got her sent to time out upstairs. She hates this. She screams and stomps her way to her room, and then proceeds to tell us how horrible we are. She wants to go back to her mommy's house. We are too mean here. And the kicker, "I want my daddy!" So, daddy goes upstairs to sit outside the door and she engages him by ranting about all the ways life isn't fair to her. He is trying valiantly. Seeing his daughters cry and not scooping them up for a hug earns him mounds of credit. She calms down, and they talk. However, then I want for her to talk to me--since I was the one who sent her upstairs in the first place. She and daddy think they have already talked, but I have such fears of being the bad guy. "I send her upstairs, daddy lets her out" just doesn't work with me. And, since I am such more of a processor than he is, she knows the discussion will include more--and she resists. Then, my dear husband sees the calm beginning to unravel, and he feels desperate. I know he wants me to let it go, but it doesn't feel right to me.

We make an agreement that when she calls for daddy, he can sit outside her room and not engage. When she is actually calm, he will let me know and we can process things together so she doesn't have to to it twice.

When a later incident means she is stomping up the stairs again, we mostly manage to keep to the plan. It seems like it works, but I know my husband's heart is breaking as he sits outside her door listening to her rail against everything in her life. It breaks mine, and I am the firmer of us--by a long shot.

The after talk feels productive, We talk about things she has used before to calm down and agree to make a list to keep upstairs so that she can have some reminders when the times are tough. We talk about how to see the warning signs and change the activity before it gets to that point. We talk about how she is more sensitive to begin with and now is fighting those rotten hormones. We give her credit that both things make it harder, but that she has to behave appropriately no matter what garbage is rolling around her bloodstream. I know puberty at this age is not unusual, but it would be nice to get a bit more life under her belt before she has to deal with it.

Hubby and I agree to make an appointment with a counselor. First for us, then for Brownie if it seems appropriate. I know we could be more supportive of each other in the moment, but it is so very hard. I hate to see him struggle when she goes upstairs. I hate to find him with his head under the pillow trying to block out her screaming. I know that even when I'm getting frustrated with him--he is trying his best. And so am I.

Send answers and alcohol.

A very good day

Yesterday, my father told me he had sent me a package I needed to sign for because he had insured it. I reminded him that he shouldn't have sent me anything that needed insurance. He blew me off like he does about things like that. I told him I would be home after 3, and that if they had tried to deliver it earlier, I would pick it up today. He left me two voice mails and we had a conversation aroun 5:30 in chich he said he was having "angst" over the fact it had not arrived. At this point, I said to Sweetheart that it must have been something sentimental for him to be so upset. He couldn't find the tracking number, the store he mailed from was closed, and the website couldn't help him without the tracking number. As we headed out through the garage, I went to check one more time to see if a note had blown off or maybe they had come during the 20 minutes I was in the tub. I notice a very slight bulge under the door mat. It is the package--with the "signature required" sticker proudly displayed. Poppa was happy to hear that it had arrived. Turns out he was "going through some things" and found his mother's wedding band in a box and decided that it would be better served sent to me. My fingers are definitely larger than hers were, but I am happy to have it.

Then, we went to eat. A thinking blogger would have taken her camera, but it I had I would have embarrassed my husband so maybe that's for the best.

We went to a restaurant named t'afia that focuses on using local foods. I splurged and got the five course tasting special which was awesome. I meant to ask for a menu, but forgot after two drinks over my usual. Here's what I remember (but with much less foodie phrasing)
Course 1 Crackers with baked brie and quince paste
Course 2 Peach and tomato gazpacho
Course 3 Mushrooms in a kind of wonton-ish roll (see what I mean about non foodie phrasing?) with radishes, smoked salmon, and a creamy, yummy sauce
Course 4 Shrimp (that were not shrimpy) rolled in poblano peppers, and the best pieces of dead pig (bacon) I may have ever eaten. There was a cold side dish of avocado and citrus fruit in a spicy tomato based dressing.

At this point the chef who Sweetheart knows came by the table. We raved about the food and she asked what we wanted for dessert. I was getting my scheduled 5th course, and he was having creme brulee. She decided that we needed some bonuses, so....

Course 5 My carrot and squash cake with creme fraich and the best blueberries ever. His creme brulee. Huge bread pudding with chocolate and decadence. Bowl of bittersweet chocolate truffles. Bowl of dates with marscapone and pistachioes.

I don't always eat healthy, but I rarely eat until I cause myself discomfort that follows me all the way home and makes me curl up and groan.

They also feature lots of Texas wines, and had some great cocktails.

I had a Bojito which was made with blood orange vodka. There were also wines infused with local fruits which we samples all of between the two of us. (I am not an English major. I know that sentence isn't right, but I don't care.)

We had reservations at 6:30 which I told my husband was the equivalent of eating at Picadilly at 4:30 for dinner when you are REALLY old.

The space was small with exposed ducts and beams. It was decorated art deco style, but the chairs were still comfortable.

This would have been way better with a photo of every course, but hubby might have been irritated--even with the extra leeway one is given on "the anniversary of the arrival of my pointy headed child" as my father calls my birthday.

Happy Birthday to me!

Today I am 43 years old. I know that 40 is the new black and all, but I am as old as I have ever been.

Sweetheart is taking me out for dinner to a restaurant we have both been wanting to try. Then I will come home and go to sleep by 10 oclock since I'm due back at work at 6AM and I hate me some mornings.

I am old.

Cats are cute and crazy

I love and hate cats. I brought this poor one eyed, three pawed ceramic cat (with sentimental value) into the den last week. I failed to capture the photograph or the Gray Baby Boris biting its ear and "rabbit kicking" it with his back legs, but I saw it happen. The next day the stuffed fox was with the cat. Perhaps Boris thought the fox would help him defeat the fake cat? Or the fox was another conquest as Boris thought the cat had been conquered? I was a bit more confused when I arrived home from work today and found the heart shaped plastic slinky added to the mix? Any theories?


At least they do cute things like sit in the window together.....


Or sit in the giant mixing bowl which is my most favorite inheritance from my stepmother. You can make three pound cakes at one time in that sucker!


Or just sun themselves on the rug (which I know is dirty--I mean we have all these freaking cats, what do you expect?)

This one time, at band camp....

I may be the only person in the world who has no idea what follows that quote in the movie. I'm okay with that.

The twins left Sunday for camp. An overnight camp from which they return on Friday. I am pleasantly surprised they have made it two nights without any phone calls home. To the best of my knowledge, they have spent the night away from parents and grandparents exactly once. That was for a birthday at the home of the girl who had lived across the street for a very long time. When we first started talking about going to Atlanta for the wedding, they were very worried about staying in a hotel. They are not terribly gung ho about trying new things, so when I heard about 5 nights at sleepaway camp I wondered. I figure that no news is good news.

The city of Atlanta had some fairly decent camps for kids in the summer. I know they had to be reasonably priced, because we didn't have any "extra" money. First there was day camp in the recreation center for mostly games and crafts. Then you moved on to day camp in the "woods." Finally, you graduated to a Monday through Friday sleep in cabins type camp.

One summer, I got off the bus returning from camp with tears streaming down my face. Mother later told me she thought it was because I was so glad to see her. It was actually because I was so upset it was over. Then, Mother did one of the coolest things she ever did. She and my best friend's mom arranged for Terri and I to return to camp the following week. Of course, the second week didn't have the same magic that the first week did, but it was still a very cool thing to do.

Did you go to camp as a kid? Are your kids going to camp this summer?

The fatness

Blame this rant/stream of consciousness on Ms. Pants. I mean that in a good way. There has been some discussion about weight, plus size clothes, prejudice against fat people, etc. Rather than dumping my brain in her comments, I thought I'd do it here. One commenter said something to the effect that "we shouldn't make it easier for fat people."

I was one of thos really "hateable" skinny people when I was in my teens and twenties. I didn't exercise, I ate whatever-the-fuck I wanted, and I was small. I remember shopping for clothes at that time in my life. It was as simple as finding something I liked, could afford, and that was in stock in my (small) size. I did not have to make sure that my stomach that gains weight like a man was hidden. I never had to be certain that the fat part of my thighs wasn't blobbing out around my underpants. I never had to buy "smoosh it all in" undergarments. Shopping was easy. I used to like having my picture taken. I could smile, act goofy, do whatever when it was taken. I didn't have to worry about the angle of my body. I didn't think at all about how many chins might show up in any given pose. Anyone who thinks that things are "easy" for fat people is wrong.

I think it is an accurate self assessment to say that I didn't make myself fat. I turned 30, I turned 40, I quit smoking. I did not start eating donuts by the dozens, whole pizzas, or ice cream by the gallon. I don't think my eating/exercising habits changed very much at all. I found myself gaining weight, and did not get a handle on it fast enough. I do not blame anyone except myself for my weight, but I also do not pile barrels of guilt upon myself either. I don't like my weight, but I still like myself.

I worry about the effect my weight has on my stepdaughters. I worry about the effect society has on my stepdaughters. I don't know what the solution is, but I do know that it isn't simple. I also know that skinny people blaming fat people and fat people hating skinny people isn't it.

Questions and pictures

Chicka made me do this. I'm not making anyone, but I thought it was fun.

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker.

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One Word to describe you.
12. Your flickr name.





1. Margaret's green glass mosaic gazing ball-- bowling in the garden, 2. Harlequin shrimp, 3. Chicago Skyline, 4. purple haze, 5. Ba Da Ba BAAAA, Ba Da BAAA, 6. Mojito, 7. Dove osano le Oche, 8. Raspberry & Lemon Mousse, 9. Sunset Dandelion, 10. Racoon Family, 11. Jumping into the new dimension (DSC_4769), 12. Sophie the Gnome

The harlequin shrimp and Sophie the Gnome were my most favorites.

Let me know if you do this where you hang out, okay?

Words of Wisdom

I don't often dole out advice. I am full of opinions, but I also think it is every adult's inalienable right to ignore advice--particularly the unsolicited kind. However, I wish I had known this many moons and now many dollars ago.

Evidently, I clinch my teeth on a regular basis. My dentist called me a "grinder," but I do not think this is accurate. I am well aware that when I am stressed (which is far too often--remember, I earned an anxiety disorder diagnosis this year--go me!), my jaw is in a firmly clinched position.

As a result of the grinding or clinching (Sweetheart supports me in denying ever having heard me grind my teeth at night), my teeth are royally fucked.

I have managed to crack three of my four bottom molars due to the pressure on the teeth. Evidently, the previous fillings only serve as a wedge to make the teeth cracking more efficient. I was prepped for the first molar on Tuesday. I will have the crown seated in 2 weeks and on that day be prepped for the second crown. The third one is not as bad so my poor mouth (and poorer wallet) can wait a bit to fix that one. I will be fitted for a night guard to prevent grinding. I have been advised to wear it during the day during stressful times. It should be interesting to talk to my manager wearing a mouth guard. :-)

Anyway, I knew about the clinching a while back, but I had no idea how much it would damage my teeth, my poor aching mouth, and my finances going into summer travel sesason.

If you know you do this--get a freaking mouth guard. I know many insurances don't pay for them, but given that a crown is $1000 bucks and insurance pays less than half, a few bucks on a mouth guard is money well spent.

End of lesson. I will be setting up my PayPal account for donations in the upcoming days. Thank you in advance for your participation. (that last part is not really true.)

More about Puberty

Evidently, Brownie has been having some trouble rinsing all of the shampoo out of her hair. I gave her a cup to help with the process and told her to call me to check before she got out of the shower. I go upstairs and the cup has worked. It rinsed al of her thick hair and gave the bathroom floor a fairly good soaking as well. Then came the following conversation.

Brownie-I think I'm going to brush my pubic hair.
Me-Sure, if you feel like it, but it isn't really necessary.
Brownie-Blondie doesn't have any pubic hair, not a single one.
Me-How are you so certain about that?
Brownie-Well, since she is blonde, I thought it might be hard to see, so when she was naked I looked really close and even touched her. There was nothing there. I'm her sister, I can do stuff like that. But I did have to sneak up on her a little bit.
Me-Even a twin sister is allowed to keep her privates private if she wants to. Perhaps you could reconsider the sneaking up part of that and just ask her next time, okay?
Brownie-But I really wanted to know.
Me-Deciding to drop the subject as it seemed non productive.