New Blog - in case you missed it...

So, for the few of you who have been paying attention - I am now blogging at lobotomyplease.com. Head on over and enjoy!

military mother's day

Well, I have had a bit of a pity party for myself today. No, I did not deserve to have one but my mind went there anyway.

I woke up this morning doing some math in my head (never a good idea…) I realized that I have only spent 3 of the last eight years with my husband on Mother’s Day. Comes with the territory because I am a military spouse. Let me just say that I know I am fortunate because I have spent all of my Mother’s Days with my children, which is what it is actually all about, but come on.

B left on Tuesday for an exercise in Denver. I wasn’t too upset, because it is what it is and we spend a lot of time apart, but our 10 year anniversary was on Thursday. Due to a rain delay he wasn’t home until late Thursday, the night of said anniversary. Hard to get into any sort of mood to celebrate, but I digress. This post isn’t about that. It’s about me being selfish, and because it’s my blog, and I clearly need a lobotomy, it’s ok.

After his mission in Denver the team went up to Thermopolis, WY for another hazmat session. No big deal because the kids and I drove up after school on Friday afternoon. I was under the impression that they wouldn’t be leaving for a further training session until after noon on Sunday (today, for those of you keeping track). Sometime yesterday the time changed to them rolling out of town at 9AM. Again, shouldn’t be a big deal, but to me it kind of is. Because of the history of the notice paid to holidays by the higher-ups in the military. (probably shooting myself in the foot by continuing) I have a bit of a grudge. I did sign up for it, as did B, but that’s not the point right now. My upcoming lobotomy is the point.

So, the kids and I found ourselves in Thermopolis on Friday night. 5 hour drive but it wasn’t too bad, considering I live way out west now and nothing is close. We enjoyed the hot tub heated by a natural (read: stinky) hot spring until we couldn’t stand the stink, oops, I mean heat, any longer. We were tuckered out and tucked ourselves into bed because B had an early morning and I knew Finn would be awake as soon as Daddy was despite our best effort to make the room as dark as possible.

So, yada yada ya, day passes and the team returns. Now is when I find out that they are leaving town at 9AM on Sunday (Mother’s Day). I had been expecting noon. I was sad but I don’t think I showed it. (crossed fingers and all – I will share better parts of the trip soon, I do promise)

Which brings me to this morning. I woke up crying and crunching numbers. Please don’t feel sorry for me because I no longer do (j/k – I know you don’t feel sorry for me to begin with because clearly I am a masochist) I realized that the only time B has been around for a Mother’s Day was in ’05, ’08′ and 2010. Wow. What a track record. I think my issue with today is the fact that I drove 5 hours to see him. Normally not that big of a deal to me (I’ve driven upwards of 20 for the same thing) but what hurt me today was the fact that I thought I had until at least noon to feel like a family and a Mom worth celebrating. Totally a timing thing, but it was my bad to drive that far hoping for something more. For all that I went through since LAST M’s day, I wanted this one to be better. I should have only gone with the idea of a tiny vacation in mind.

So, my proposal, in order to bring my brain into alignment with my heart, is to create a rotating holiday schedule that fits the completely asinine military appreciation of regular, civilian holidays. Screw Mother’s Day. Screw Father’s Day. Screw Christmas. Screw anything else that might be important to the spouse of a military member. Instead, they can work any other Federal holiday that they might get paid for, ie anything that falls on a Monday. Probably going to bite my leg off to spite my face, but it’s about the nicest thing I have to say right now. From now on I will require the training schedule January 1st and then I will decide on which dates certain holidays fall, pretty much like how Easter changes every year. Not like it will make a difference, and I doubt it will, but I feel better for having shared it and that is the point of all of this. I really don’t want a lobotomy.

Also, because I feel bad for being selfish I do recognize that not everyone has the ideal Mother’s Day. Some are without their partners and some are without their children. I don’t want, and will not, take away from that. What hurt for me is the fact that I thought I could have breakfast with my family today. I know not everyone gets to experience that. I have missed out on so many important things with my husband and family that I completely understand. What hurts and what prompted me to share today was the ‘getting the rug pulled out from under me’ moment that I had when I wanted (and thought there would be) more. If I had known ahead of time it wouldn’t have been a problem because I would have been prepared. Goodness knows what I have missed out on in life so far. However; I am so, so, so lucky I had my babies today and I do know that. I just want a day to sleep in and breakfast in bed. I know it’s a lot to ask, but one day it will be mine.

I feel for everyone wanting a different outcome for today. I am so happy for those that got the best day. I cry with those that don’t have their babies today. In the end I try and stay positive. Here’s to the moms, grandmas, aunties, friends, and fur-mamas. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. Love to you all!!!

Coincidence?

So, I'm not sure what sort of sign this is or even if I should be sharing it with the universe, but here goes. I was silly and had been sort of praying at church (while not really paying attention to the sermon, which incidentally was about the power of one prayer) that I would hear soon about the job and that it would be a positive phone call. I did get out of the service that it isn't 'what' you pray about but 'how' you pray. Made sense to me because I have a history of praying for things (like patience) that get answered but not necessarily in the way I want them answered.

For instance, during my praying-for-patience phase I auditioned for a roll in the Nutcracker ballet with a ballet company in Minnetonka, MN. I busted my butt for that try-out. When the list came out for the production I found out that I had landed a part as a maid. A maid. One tiny part in one tiny scene. Some parents of my friends had warned me that my patience would be tested as a result of that one, itty bitty, prayer. They were right. I was tested.

That same year I had a part as the back-up during a Ronald McDonald skating routine. My only part in the production. I wanted to cry and die. It felt like an entire year of my life was wasted. I was used to being front and center in everything I endeavored to do and the turn of events, because of one prayer, was disastrous for me. Not to toot my own horn, but I have several gold medals for solo and synchronized skating routines as well as for dancing, so I was at least fairly acceptable at what I chose to do. To be put in the background was horrifying for someone used to succeeding and winning over the judges. It is what it is. That prayer, at the time, ruined my life. I recognize and appreciate the power of one prayer.

Which leads me to a strange turn of events...

We had communion at church today. It is one of my most favorite things about church. I think I just like the excuse to eat an oyster cracker and drink some grape juice, but I digress... I get to say a personal prayer and send my thoughts out in the way I want to without any direction. Today I prayed that the interview process had gone smoothly and I would soon hear about this job. (and please, God, let me get it!) Very selfish, I know, but I couldn't help myself. It was my moment and I took it.

After we had gathered the kiddos and as we were walking out of the building I heard someone call my name. I turned and there was one of the guys who interviewed me last week. I got flustered and said a few polite lines of conversation before I said good bye and headed to the car. I was trying not to jeopardize the hiring process.

After that Brian told me I had the job. I hope he is right! I keep playing the scene over in my head, and if I had been in the interviewers position I wouldn't have spoken to me if I hadn't been chosen because it would have been awkward. Wishful thinking? Maybe. Coincidence? Perhaps.

I am going to keep my fingers crossed in the meantime.

14 Years Later

I was torn about what to write today but I felt that this, being the 14th anniversary of Columbine, was what it should be. Also, considering what just went down in Boston I felt that I couldn't avoid it.

I moved to Colorado from Massachusetts in December of 1998, the middle of my senior year in high school. Four months later Columbine  happened. I remember we were at Safeway getting our lunch. I overheard one of the cashiers talking about what was occurring 20 miles away, just down the canyon from us. I panicked. I got back to school and ran into the security guard and asked him what he knew. I asked him if what I had heard was true. He confirmed that I had heard correctly. At this point, nothing had been said at the school and he told me that they weren’t planning on announcing anything until school was over for the day. I thought that was BS and so I grabbed my sister (a freshman at the time) and we went home where we watched the news all afternoon. I later heard that they did announce it and then put the school on lock-down.

At one point we heard that the people who attacked Columbine were on the way to our school. I had never been so glad that I went against school policy to sneak my sister out of school. As details unfolded I remember being in shock. I remember wondering why anyone would want to hurt their fellow students. I remember being so angry that this could have happened. I remember being very wary of kids wearing trench-coats and dark sunglasses. This was not like me. I have always tried to be friendly with everyone, whether we were friends or not, and here I was judging based upon appearances. I didn’t like what I had become but it happens when your world is changed in such a big way and you find yourself questioning what might have been. Eventually I stopped worrying about it, which I guess is a natural outcome. I didn’t live the attack and it didn’t stick with me like it would have if I had been there.

Until Monday, April 15th, 2013, when it all came rushing back. All of the feelings and all of the fear and all of the unknown. I heard about the bombs in Boston and flipped out. You can read about my reaction to it here. Now, five days later, it is the 14th anniversary of Columbine and it seems as fresh in my mind as if it was the 1st anniversary. I was not in MA on Monday, not even close (way out here in Wyoming…hi…) but I am still close to Colorado. My old city and my almost-most-recent one. Huge, horrible things happened to both of them in the same week 14 years apart. One when I was barely into adult-hood and one where I am fully entrenched.

There is one thing I know about both of them and one that I know will happen whenever we are faced with tragedy of a huge magnitude. They overcome. WE overcome. People join together and hold each other up and help one another. They let the evil of the world know that it can’t get to them. Whether memories are 14 years old or 5 days old, we will overcome. We will not forget but we will move forward and become better people. There will always be bad and evil in this world but it won’t win in the long run. We will stand together and support one another until atrocities like these fail to exist because they no longer serve a purpose.

New post about stuck and marriage:

http://lobotomyplease.com/2013/04/18/stuck-and-marriage/

Enjoy!

I've Moved!

I am the proud owner of my very own URL! I can now be found at lobotomyplease.com. If you would like to keep following me I will be found there. I will continue to post links to the other blog on this site so you can continue to read all about my adventures if you prefer to stay here.

Here is my newest post about a new recipe we tried:

http://lobotomyplease.com/2013/04/17/bacon-wrapped-breakfast-cupcakes/

I want to thank everyone for reading and supporting me while I was on blogger. It's been fun!

~Lauren

ARD Featured Piece - in Bloom

My best friend (and business partner, Heather) and I have been working on a new idea for our company Abby Rose Designs. It’s something we’ve had on our minds for months and it has finally come to fruition. We will be doing a Featured Piece of the Month and it will showcase a new piece of jewelry in limited quantities every month. For our first piece we created a necklace that has a rose quartz pendant in the shape of a rose. We found it quite fitting for the first month given the name of our company, obviously.

I must say, we have had a lot of fun with this endeavor! We started brainstorming ideas and it all flowed together so nicely from there. Our photo shoot was amazing and there were lots of laughs while we traveled around Evergreen, CO with our fabulous model, Krystle. Here are some pictures of our jewelry as well as some behind the scenes shots. Enjoy!

(Pictures won't upload and I am really frustrated!)

You can view and purchase the necklace here. It is available until 4/26/2013. Additional pictures are here!

Boston

Like everyone else I was horrified by what happened in Boston yesterday at the marathon. I lived in Wenham, MA, for two years in High School and I have always considered Boston my city. I moved around A LOT while I was growing up but MA made my heart feel home. Maybe it’s because my family had been in MA since the Mayflower and only left in the 1920s or maybe it’s that something about the state just calls to me. I don’t know the reason but my heart broke when I heard about the bombs at the marathon. Like a bunch of other people, I knew people at the race and I know people that work close to where the explosions happened. I was shaken, and the fact that I am in Wyoming made it much harder to handle the news. I wanted to be there so that I could be with the people that I care about and know first-hand that they are OK. I am so, so sad for the people who were injured or lost loved ones. It sucks that this happened in my favorite city. It’s selfish of me to have wished it happened somewhere else but it is what it is and I don’t think that I am alone in the sentiment wherever terrible things happen. Human nature, I guess.

The bombing was a senseless act of terror, plain and simple, and it is not ok. One thing I know, when the dust settles and people start to recover, is that we will all stand together and get through this. The people of Massachusetts are some of the nicest, most caring people I have ever met. I may not stay in touch with my old friends like I should but  I do know that if something were to happen they would be there for me. People may have preconceived notions about what Bostonians are like but the majority (because let’s face it, there are some bad apples everywhere), despite the sometimes gruff and sometimes brutally honest exterior, would give everything for someone who is suffering. I think that spirit was shown yesterday when the bombs went off and instead of running away so many went back to help their fellow citizens or continued running to donate blood to the victims despite just having finished a freaking marathon! Not just the people of MA but people from everywhere around the country and the world pitched in to help the wounded.  What a testament to our resilience!

Whoever committed this act will hopefully be found quickly and brought to justice. On the off-chance that we never figure it out, those who did this should know that those of us in this country DO stand together and support one another. We WON’T be torn apart because of senseless acts of violence. It didn’t work on 9/11, or during any other act of terror, and I pray that it won’t happen because of this or any other things that may be hard and that may happen in this country. The terrorists, whether domestic or foreign, will not bring us down. I hope we can stand united against the forces of evil in this world and move forward in a supportive way that helps our fellow man. I think we can prove to any terrorist that they can’t beat us no matter what they try.

Travels in Texas

I have been trying to figure out how to write this post for a couple of weeks now. I’m trying to be sensitive to all sides of the story while at the same time being honest to my experiences. I went down to Texas to hopefully get some work in oil and gas as it has all but dried up in Wyoming and Northern Colorado. I also needed a change of scenery and that felt like the best idea at the time. I took Yaya out of school and we spent a week at our “Kansas House” before heading down to Dallas. Once in Dallas I tried to enroll Yaya in the local elementary school. That was a pain in the butt. I had brought her birth certificate and immunization records as that is all that I ever needed to enroll her in school in Colorado and Wyoming. It turned out that I needed her physical Social Security Card as well. Once I had that in hand I was able to register her at the local school.

Here is where I might begin to sound like a bad person but if you will hear me out I promise to try and redeem myself. Please refrain from judgment until the end. If you think you can’t hold out, please stop reading now.

The kids and I were staying with my mom. She lives in a suburb just north of Dallas. I thought that the school district would be an ok one, given the location, but I guess I wasn’t prepared for the clientele that was served in the area. Mind you, there is nothing wrong with the clientele, just the education, from my humble point of view. The process to get Yaya into school took hours. Half of the forms were in Spanish and I had to use my very rudimentary knowledge of the language to answer the questions. My mom and I were both participating in it and it still took forever. Finn was about to lose it when I finally finished and Yaya and I got to speak with the school counselor. She, fabulous woman, had toys to occupy Finn for the final portion of it and he loved it.

Her school in TX required uniforms and, after a frantic search of Target and a raid of the extra clothes at the school, we were finally ready. The sign when we walked into school on her first day read “Today’s language is English.” I didn’t really think anything of it – I really want both kids to learn Spanish as I think it is very beneficial in this day and age. Yaya even took before-school Spanish classes when they offered it at her old school. I did get a bit offended at being forced to register for free/reduced lunches. Talk about a blow to my pride. They wouldn’t even let her enroll until I filled it out. But enough about my pride – we didn’t need the service and I wasn’t about to take it from students that actually did need it. We are in enough trouble financially in this country without trying to take from people who deserve it and need the breakfast/lunch program to build strong bodies and brains.

Everything was going fine until Yaya brought home her first homework assignment. I was shocked. It involved verb endings that Finn could have answered if he could read (which I think he can but he fools us really well just like Yaya did at his age). Then I found out that Yaya had missed recess because she hadn’t finished her assignment from the night before. I completely understand that, I missed it in her homework folder as well, but the homework was a joke. Math was fine but (and here’s where you will think something is wrong with me until you let me finish) I feel like the English homework was work for the parents and not her classmates. Every single one of those kids that I met was super sweet and spoke English very well. I couldn’t believe in my soul that the busy work was for them. I may be wrong but that is how it felt to me. I had enough trouble myself during my own school days with homework that was way too easy; I didn’t see the point in the busy work and that bit me on the behind enough times that I know I don’t want Yaya going down the same path at such a young age.

When I was growing up we moved to Switzerland and later to Germany.  I know that if the native speakers had brought home the work in German that Yaya brought home in English there would have been an uprising. I did go to International Schools where the primary learning was taught in English but we did have German homework. At the time I was going to school there, late 80s and early 90s so it may have changed, students entering the local school system were required to take intensive German classes, so much so that they would be held back if their German wasn’t up to par. I didn’t face this task because I was in the International School System but one could risk being a year or even two behind if you couldn’t grasp the language.

I don’t fault the school district or the teachers - they are doing the best they can with the curriculum they are given - but by golly… I wasn’t going to let Yaya end up a year or two behind because of the schooling and my chance at trying to find a job. I guess my eyes were opened wide on the little sojourn I took. I certainly won’t take education for granted again. Also, as a side note, I spent more on school supplies for the second half of the semester than I have ever spent on an entire year at any of Yaya’s schools. There is something to be said for funding public education and I’ve never voted against raising taxes for our students. Something has to give to give these kids the best chances in life. I can’t begin to even pretend to know where they should start.

Working Out With Wind

Haha! With a title like that you thought this would be off-colour, didn’t ya?

Sorry to bust your bubble.

When I was nine years old we moved to Switzerland. My mom spent the better part of four months before we got there teasing me about some of the changes we were going to be experiencing when we arrived. One of my favorite examples of this special sort of bonding is when she told me that all of the cows in Switzerland have one side of their legs shorter than the other due to grazing in a circular motion around the tops of the mountains. I didn’t know a whole lot about mountains at that time - I had spent most of my life in the Midwest up until then - and didn’t realize that mountains are huge and not every single one of them has a farm at the way tippy- toppity of it; where cows continuously walk around in circles like they have some weird sort of mad cow disease. To my nine year old mind it made perfect sense that the cows would have one side of their legs shorter. I was scared to death and I vowed to make sure that I walked equally up and down the streets. I think I was fairly successful because both of my legs are still the same length. Score!

Yes. They wear bells. And yes. It is awesome!

I was reminded of the short-legged-on-one-side cows when I walked out of a building today in Cheyenne. It was windy. Not just the blustery-and-you-deal-with-it kind, but the full-blown 35 mph gusts that alternate between forcing you to practically crawl along the pavement in order to keep moving forward and then knocking you over when it swirls behind you and you haven’t recovered from the stooped position. It was really fun.

I imagine this mode of transportation would be infinitely more dangerous here...

Everyone always says how windy Wyoming is but I hadn’t really experienced it because the summer was so pleasant, so I guess I didn’t really (want to) believe them. I wish I had a video of my odd zombie walk back the car. I tried to keep my arms down but they kept wanting to pop up to keep me from bashing my face in on some cement.

When I got back to the car I noticed that my muscles were sore, as if I had been working out. I’m not really a fan of that whole ‘working out until your muscles hurt’ stuff so this certainly perplexed me. It was then that I realized that by being forced to keep all of my muscles tensed so the wind couldn’t sneak up on me I was getting a bit of exercise. Totally my kind of exercise – totally the only kind worth doing. Or not doing, as the case may be. You don’t even have to think about it and you’re getting fit! It reminds me of Couch Tai-Bo that was totally the craze between me and some of my friends in High school. It obviously counts because you are exercising. Anyone remember “Sit and Be Fit”? I digress.

Like this, but with kicking and punching instead of towels, or whatever those are. Oh, and old people. None of that, either.

I have a new one now: ‘Working Out With Wind’. Do what you will with that one... I plan to do it every day for the unforeseeable future.

A Tribute to a Special Dog

I have taken a HUGE break from blogging due to changes in latitudes (and some attitudes) and I am breaking my silence to offer a tribute to a wonderful dog. Our beloved Jasmine Genevieve (Spelts) Carver went to Heaven today. She hadn’t been feeling well for a while, was mostly deaf and blind, and would get lost in corners, scared and cowering. She didn’t like the confusion she was experiencing, we called it her doghaimers, and I hated seeing her in pain. I know it was the right time to let her go but it doesn’t make it any easier.

I have a belief that we should not mourn those that have passed but celebrate the time we had with them. Obviously tears will be shed but I try and stay positive with happy memories to ease the transitions in life. I do not believe that those we love who pass on want us to be sad but rather to be happy for the special time we had with them.

Jasmine was truly one of the best dogs to ever live. I am not saying that because I had the privilege of being her caretaker and dog-mommy but because it is simply true. I think if we got right down to it, and she could use facebook and twitter, she would have more friends than I do. I can’t think of one person who met her that didn’t love her.

I rescued her from a pet shop in 2000. She had lived in a cage for the better part of her puppyhood and was on deep discount because she had been there so long and was pretty ill. She spent 5 days in intensive care before I even got to take her home. Once home she fit into college life extremely well. She went to class with me (Boulder, CO, awesome) and all of the parties and events I cared to attend. She was so popular that if there was a shortage of ladies at a party the guys would take her for walks and come home with a trail of females just wanting to scoop her up and cuddle. Jazzy was a bearded collie, and by golly, those puppies are the cutest little fluffballs!

We frequently hiked and she would rock climb with us. Random strangers would tell me she needed to be in a dog food commercial due to her dexterity on the rocks and cliffs. Jazz never met a mountain she couldn’t climb! Once, when she was scared to get back down and I couldn’t carry her, I opened a can of Vienna Sausages, promising her some when she got to the bottom, and I swear she walked on her back feet almost the whole way down. She got the can and then some.

Being a sheep dog she was extremely protective of her flock. She would just sit somewhere and bark her crazy head off until we all showed up and then she would walk off, content that we were still in her care. When the kids were born she wouldn’t let them out of her sight. When the little guy was just a few weeks old, my Mom took us to Galveston where Jazz, who was so incredibly afraid of the water, went into the ocean because I had Yaya and Finn in my arms. She would not let her babies get hurt no matter what it cost her. That dog had a heart of gold.

Jasmine raised a bunch of dogs from puppyhood, and while they were not biologically hers, they are some of the most well behaved dogs I have ever met. Her spirit lives within them and I know she is never far from their hearts.

When I was in college I had a Suzuki Samurai and Jazz and I rocked that Barbie-mobile. We would drive aimlessly around together, the top off and our hair blowing in the wind. I reminisced with her the other day about how sexy we were, rocking out to pop tunes. She smiled at me in her doggy way.

She loved anything to do with the outdoors, including camping, hiking, fishing and snowshoeing. I bet she even would have loved skiing if she could have figured that out. We took an extended camping trip before Yaya was born and I don’t think she’d ever been happier.

We lived in Steamboat Springs two years ago and Jasmine went missing in the woods a couple of days before Memorial Day. I cried my eyes out until she came back two days later, exhausted and missing some teeth. When I think about that weekend I feel so incredibly lucky that she came home and we were able to gain an extra two and a half years with her. She tried so hard to come home and I will forever be grateful for that extra time.

Jasmine always knew when you were sad or upset or scared about something. She was truly my battle buddy during all of Brian’s deployments. Something about that scruffy face could always make me smile, and when I was at my lowest she would sit beside me, her head in my lap, and just be there for me. I will miss her quiet, calming manner. She was my best dog friend, there beside me as I found my path in the world, and she will be so incredibly missed.

I think Brian put it well: “After deafness, blindness, dementia, and multiple tumors; our amazing dog, Jasmine went to heaven today. I sure will miss my trail running, rock climbing, snow shoeing, chick magnet mountain dog. I miss you Jazz, and will see you again someday!”

Jazzy, we send you to Heaven with the best wishes and the most love. There will never be another dog like you! We love you!

Maybe I Shouldn't Be Involved in Yard Work...

It has recently - as in today - come to my attention that maybe I'm not cut out for yard work. I try, I really do, but maybe it's just not for me. I'm really good at home improvement activities, I'm just not sure that extends to the out-of-doors. I can change light fixtures, I'm darn good at painting and woodwork, I can reface a kitchen, and I'm sure that if I set out to re-carpet or redo hardwood floors I would be successful. (haha-my computer changed that to stressful - a little Freudian slip on my part??)

One thing I am apparently not Super Woman at is yard work and lawn care.

This morning I decided that we needed to finally cut our lawn. It hasn't been cut since last fall and I'm fairly certain that if I didn't keep a close eye on the little guy he would be lost in the verdant undergrowth. It was at least a foot tall in places, and we don't call the little guy that for no reason.

A little back story - last night my glasses went missing. I was pretty certain the dog took them, but when I was clearing the lawn of debris I didn't see them anywhere. Have you figured out where this is going? I hadn't...

I got the lawnmower out of it's coveted home by the side of the house, not even certain if it would run. I took it over to the edge of the lawn, and lo and behold, after about 5 minutes of pulling on that annoying string that I think only exists to annoy the weaker among us, I got the darn thing started. I only had to do three rows of strenuous pushing before I remembered that we had an automatic-thingy that made the wheels go on their own! Only three rows this year!!

As I was on my fourth row I sort of noticed something shining in the grass. Now, this would be the point at which you remember that my glasses were missing... Yep. I looked down just as the lawnmower spit out my $500 glasses. They were mangled. I wanted to cry but instead just handed them to Yaya to take inside because I was still riding the high of actually turning on and operating the mower. I made a bunch more passes and actually made it to the swing set. I was so proud of myself!

After I had mowed the grass next to the side of the swing set I was ready to do the back part of the yard. On my first pass I came upon some sort of obstacle. I didn't stop to think about what it could be and so I pushed and pushed until I was victorious. As soon as I broke through of the hang-up I about passed out when I saw what it was. Can you guess? Do you want to?

I had pulled the sprinkler out. I didn't just rip the top off - I pulled the entire dang thing out of the ground. It was broken off where I can hardly fit my hand to repair it. I don't even want to know how much this is going to cost.

Needless to say, I told Brian all about it and he is hiring me a lawn service. Wise decision.

Oh, and the glasses, which I desperately need to be able to see? Those are going to take 10 days to get back. Oh, my life.

Friday Five 5/11/2012

A fellow blogger - http://heatherlgalaska.wordpress.com/ - has been posting the Friday Five for quite a while now, and I thought I would try and follow in her excellent footsteps... Here are the question for this week:

1. If you could get on a plane tomorrow, where would you go for a
   week? Where would you go for a month?

I have really been missing Hawaii lately. We were fortunate to be able to go twice last year and I really miss it. It certainly doesn't hurt that my husband lived on Oahu while he was growing up and knows where the best beaches are... If I were to go anywhere for a month I would go to Europe (anywhere).

1. Where do you want most to return to?

I would go to Germany. I lived there while I was growing up and there are so many places from my childhood that I would like to visit again that it would take at least a month to see everything.

1. What was your most memorable meal or drink while traveling?

How do I choose? 

There were memorable meals and drinks in so many places I have visited. I have a couple that stand out in my mind tho - Pizzeria Franco in Bad Vilbel for the lasagna. And yes, I would be sicker than sick if I ate it again, because of the gluten, but I'm willing to take that risk. I have never tasted anything better. The cheese was so bubbly and the sauce was divine. They were across the creek from us and we ate there at least every week for two years.

I love the chorizo tacos as Serg's on Oahu, HI. If you make it out that way, stop at his taco stand. There is one in Waimanalo and one in Honolulu. I kid you not - I have a pretty small stomach and I force myself to eat four of them every time I get to the restaurant (two or three visits a trip). Try the guacamole sauce - you won't be disappointed! For you Colorado readers: his brother in law was the coach of the Buffs for a few years (he may still be but I don't keep up on that stuff). I know this because I was wearing a CU shirt the first time we were there and Serg spoke with us for quite a while. Just a little bit of cool trivia!

1. What is the most breathtaking view in your city? How about from your travels?

The best view in my city would be any view from Lookout Mountain. There's just something about the city lights and the stars that can't be beat. In all of my travels I would say the best view is from Rigi Mountain, in Zug, Switzerland. I lived there as a child and there was nothing more amazing to me than eating Rusti from the top of the peak and looking over the mountains and down at the lake. I love it. 

1. What’s the most touristy thing you’ve done?

The most touristy things I have done would probably have to be during any of my travels since I was about 18 years old. I was used to travel and living in a lot of places, and so in my mind I always thought it would be that way and I would have all of the time in the world to see everything. Now that I am older I make a point to always visit the main attractions wherever we are so we never miss anything. When it wasn't my money being spent I didn't worry about putting something off because I would be back. Now that I have to pay for it I make sure to see everything because it might be my only chance!

Happy Travels!

The Internet Wasn't Working - So I Shot My Computer

The internet wasn’t working, so I shot my computer. (You have to say that with a southern accent, it works much better…)

                      

It seems as if the computer gods are out to get me. I am thwarted at every turn. Shmer.

I am a Petroleum Landman by trade (I know, get the pitchforks, I’m part of the problem, not the solution to pretty much everything you can think of right now, I bet) and I utilize the internet for pretty much everything I do. Many of the websites are state-run, which I can only access through Internet Explorer, or county-run, which seem to be ok with Chrome, and, like all things the government gets involved in, sometimes they just don’t work right. Surprised? I’m not, but I am working on a project right now with pretty strict deadlines, and if I can’t get online, I can’t get this done, and then I won’t have a job. I know this is a problem many people face. It is not just my problem, it is a collective problem, but today, I am sharing my story.

For instance, I am on the state-run website, and I can SEE that there are oil and gas wells, but when I pull up the county site it says that there are no documents. ‘No Results Found’ I mimic, sneering to my computer before making Grrrrr sounds at it. I should just start banging on the keyboard and it might reflect the sounds I am currently making.

This was my conversation with IE earlier this morning. See how nice and polite I was?

Me: Hello, Internet Explorer, it is very nice to see you today! Will you please let me pull up the information I need?

IE: Maybe, but it’s going to cost you.

Me: Whatever do you mean, my dear friend Internet Explorer?

IE: It’s just that I’m getting pretty sick and tired of doing this and doing that and pulling up the pages you want to look at only to have you close them a second later. It’s a lot of work and I’m tired. I need a vacation.

Me: Please, Internet Explorer, my friend, my pal, will you please help me today? I need you, and then you can have a break. It’s Friday! I don’t make you work weekends! Please, I’m begging you now!

IE: We’ll see. I’m not very motivated today.

Me: Well, if that’s the best you can do, then I guess that’s that.

IE: Yup.

So, we end our conversation and I try to pull something up. Nothing. It is clear to me that IE wasn’t trying to be silly or facetious. He was telling me the truth. He kept trying to tell me that he couldn’t find the page. I had to hit refresh numerous times before he got his lazy butt up and went to his file cabinet to pull the magical information and paste it to my screen.

This is my later conversation:

Me: Fine, IE, you are NOT my friend anymore and I’m going to tell all of my REAL friends not to use you, because you are worthless. You hear me? WORTHLESS!

IE: You can’t do that.

Me: Why not? (now I am worried I will lose this battle)

IE: Because many sites depend on me and only work with me.

Me: (trying to click open the page again. IE is lazy again. We get into the clicking war. AGAIN) You are, ugh! I don’t even know the word! I am so more than frustrated right now.

IE: Smug. I am smug. I choose what you will and won’t get done today. That makes me smug.

Me: I’m sooo glad you’ve been reading dictionary.com again. It seems to be doing you wonders. Now. OPEN UP THIS PAGE!

IE: No.

Me: ARGH ARGH ARGH! I really don’t like you right now, IE. You are ruining my day.

IE: Now you know what it feels like. Ha ha. I win.

Me: No you don’t. I win. I will just shoot the computer and solve the whole problem.

(IE immediately decides to work again. I am happy with the outcome. It just took a little threatening to solve the problem, although it will happen all over again on Monday.)

Now, if I could only get Chrome to work. It doesn’t seem to respond to my threats as much. I think it is ignoring me. I think it thinks that I’ve gone off my rocker. Probably. Yeah, pretty much. Can somebody give me a lobotomy? Please?

"Wisdom" Teeth

I do not fully comprehend the IQ of my so-called ‘wisdom’ teeth. They do not seem very smart to me. It turns out that my lower ‘wisdom’ teeth are impacted. Well, it doesn’t ‘turn out’ that they are - I knew they were when they first attempted to break through and failed. I have known this for many years. I am also not that smart because the dentists told me they should come out years ago but I failed to heed their advice and now I am paying the price. The uppers had been impacted but sometime during the last 2 years they popped out of the gums all of the way.

On Super Bowl Sunday my jaw really started hurting. I figured it was just a massive sinus infection because I have had the ones where it makes you feel like your teeth are shifting in your head and you want to scream. I, not so wisely, assumed it would go away. I was already scheduled for a teef cleaning on Tuesday morning so I just suffered through it, taking two twelve-hour Aleve every two hours, assuming the dentist would see the massive infection in my sinuses and I could head straight to Urgent Care to get the antibiotics I so desperately needed.

Alas, that was not the case. It turns out that my not-so-smart tooth caused a massive infection in itself and my gums. The dental hygienist basically told me it was causing gingivitis.

***

OK – that is my ‘before’ story. I stopped writing this blog because the pain was too bad and it was all I could do to work and take care of the kids. Brian actually did most of the care-taking and for that I am deeply appreciative. I did get antibiotics for the initial infection of the wisdom tooth and then was told I needed to have it removed because they couldn’t guarantee an infection wouldn’t come back. I decided they all needed to come out at the same time. That was smart… (queue a string quartet for da teefs)

I had all four stinkin’ wisdom teeth out on Wednesday afternoon. It is now Sunday and the pain has mostly subsided for the top ones. The bottoms, however, are a different story and I think I may have dry sockets. Ah, yes, the dreaded ‘dry socket’.

I listened to everyone’s advice about avoiding dry sockets and I really tried my best. However, apparently my best isn’t enough.  The pain of a dry socket is absolutely unbearable. (I’m sorry to all of you that I didn’t listen to in the first place) It makes me want to rip my jaw off and pay the consequence of healing from entire mouth removal. (Ok, I know that is a bit drastic) I can’t really talk without pain and any sound sends shockwaves through my body, and it is not fun!

Tomorrow I will hopefully find out what is up with the tooth situation. Wish me luck! I have so much more respect for the whole ‘wisdom’ tooth removal thing. (but I still don’t think those teeth are all that smart!)

Is it Morally or Ethically Wrong to Cage a Two Year Old?

The little guy can be the sweetest person on the planet, and then, in the blink of an eye, he can become a holy terror. It is enough to drive a person mad! One minute he will be hugging you, kissing you, telling you he loves you and just generally being the best baby boy I have ever met (not biased at all…). The next minute he will have dropped something or broken something or made a mess of everything I had just managed to clean and then demand that I pick it up, fix it, or put it away for him.

For instance, he spilled his juice for the umpteenth time this morning (I lost count between 5 and 500 – and yes, I do use sippy cups) so I handed the rag to him. He looked at me as if I had two heads and a snake coming out of my mouth and said, “No. Mommy do it. Mommy clean up.” I argued back and forth with him for way too long for my own sanity before he ran off, screaming with laughter, continuing his rant about “Mommy do it! Mommy do it!” Well, I was beat by the logic of a two year old. I’m still scratching my head on that one. Short of grabbing his scrawny arm and wiping the mess up with it (which I’m sure in some circles would get the pitchforks gathered around my house for child abuse) I was left with nothing to do but wipe it up myself.

Then, at lunch time, he spilled some shredded cheese on his seat. Guess what happened? Oh yeah, the same dance from snack time with the same chant that is really starting to get on my nerves. After a morning of this I decided I had endured enough and did the next best thing to caging him and shipping him off to join the circus – I locked him in his room and forced him to take a nap. Bad Mommy? Maybe. I think it’s probably the best option out of all of the other things I was thinking of doing with him.

It is like living with Napoleon, or how I imagine living with Napoleon would be. He is tiny for his age but so certain of his role as ‘boss’ in the house that he will do anything in his power to get you to do something for him. If he doesn’t get his way he will shriek the most ear-splitting scream that I want to yell right back at this diminutive dictator. I want to cage him like I can the puppy when he gets out of line. I want to rip my hair out of my head and stick forks in my ears to stop the ringing.

Fortunately for me I haven’t done any of these things, because this, like all trials and tribulations of living with a two year old, will soon pass. Then I would be left with sparse hair and no hearing and that would be no fun when I try and intimidate his dates when he starts dating. Actually, maybe I should just get it over with now, because I’m sure there will be no rest for this wicked Mama for the rest of her life. Then, when that was done, I could come up with other delightful ways of inflicting pain on myself. I will get back at him one day, though. I just have to figure out the right mode for revenge…

Sometimes, though, I wonder at the legality of caging him. Do you think anyone would tell on me?

How could I lock up that face? I'm screwed.

Worst. Mother. Ever.

I am officially the worst mother of the year. The rest of you can rest easily because I have taken the title for you. (You should probably rest easy for the entire time I am a parent – I calculate that will end… at my death. There ya go – free pass for life!!)

It all started when I spent the day trying to figure out a ton of math problems for work. This wouldn’t be so bad except that over the course of a week I seem to have forgotten math. Totally. As in – I’m not even certain that 2+2=5. That’s right, right?? It appears that way these days.

I have spent the week with a screaming two year old and a six year old that gets so mad at him that she screams at the top of her lungs, slams her door, and continues to yell. We have a rule against yelling in the house, which she clearly knows about, because the rules are posted on the fridge, but she chose to scream anyway. So, she got herself grounded (not that she was going anywhere anyway, but the point was made, which is all I ask for anymore).  

My brain is fried, to say the least.

Today I forgot about a parent teacher conference. Lovely.  I feel so bad about it. When I realized it I almost cried. I have felt like such an inadequate parent this year. I’m not sure if it is because I am projecting my own horrible first grade experiences on to the teachers this year or what. I am beginning to think that first grade teachers are all the same (no offense to first grade teachers everywhere, but I had a really bad experience with mine).

I say this to Yaya - “I feel as if I am failing 1^st grade all over again!”

She tells me, “I am going to write a short story about it.”

“About what?” I ask.

“You failing first grade. It will be just a short story, with a short story line.”

I think about this for a moment as I pull into the little guy’s school parking lot.

I put the car into park in the parking spot and turn around to say to her, “I didn’t fail first grade, for the record.”

Yaya think about this for a moment and then says, “Hmm. It will make a good story anyway.”

I am officially screwed and I don’t even know what excuse to use on her teachers. If all else fails, blame Brian. ;o)

Then we get home. I think everything is going ok (after I call Brian and vent about my inadequacies at parenting, obviously).

Little guy was playing in the yard. Not quite happily but he was enjoying the snow. Yaya pops her head out the door all bundled up like she has places to go and people to see. She wants to go to the neighbors. I tell her ‘No, it’s dinner time as soon as I cook the pizza.” She throws me a look of absolute hatred and slams the door.

I usher LG in a few minutes later and ask where Yaya is. She is oh-so-slowly peeling off her winter gear and crying. “You are the Worst. Mother. Ever,” she screams as she runs to her room. I shake my head and commence making dinner.

Dinner goes smoothly and everyone is happy and eats pretty much everything on their plates. (A far cry from what transpired just 14 minutes before) Score for me!

I go to put the little guy to bed and realize I have forgotten his blanky at preschool. Not Good. I have been back and forth to his room for the better part of two hours and he still refuses to sleep. I am exhausted due to the stairs. Why didn’t I buy a ranch house?? I am kicking myself for losing the original Blanky a few weeks ago. Dang – to have two Blankies right now!!

Wait… All is quiet upstairs… Maybe they have gone to sleep! I’ll check in a bit. That silence is golden!

Tiny Trip to the South

I’ve been back from Arkansas for a couple of weeks now but I am just now getting down to writing about the trip. Sorry about that!

Anywho, I made the second flight and made it to Little Rock. It was so nice to finally see Brian! You just never realize how much you miss someone until you get there and get to hug them again. I had never been to Arkansas and as we flew in on the little plane the trees and river and the rest of the scenery was just gorgeous. Being in Colorado so much of the time I really miss deciduous forests with all the undergrowth and dark secret places inside them I remember from my childhood. As we drove through town to the US Pizza Company (http://www.uspizzaco.net/) that I had read served gluten free pizza (it’s absolutely delicious and I totally recommend eating there if you are in the area) I was amazed at how much it reminded me of New England. The winding roads went up and down hills and there were quite a lot of period-style homes all over the place.

Our first night we drove around looking for the Big Damn Bridge and were totally steered wrong by the GPS. We ended up at a nature preserve somewhere in the country. No worries… We just drove to base and then tried to make a plan of attack to explore the area.

Brian mentioned Memphis was only about two hours away from Little Rock and then we decided we would go in the morning and see what it was all about. I was secretly super excited. Neither of us had been before and we thought it would be a nice little adventure. Without kids. What could be better?

I am happy to report there were no mishaps on the drive and we made it to Beale Street and parked the car. We weren’t sure what we were getting into but that is my favorite way to travel. I love to get to a new location with only a few ideas or suggestions of things to do and explore and discover as we go along.

It turns out that you can drink on Beale Street. A four block section was cordoned off by the police and you could walk up and down with adult beverages. Awesome!! Beale St. is like Duval St. in Key West but with a blues/jazz theme instead of island décor everywhere – obviously. After a rather large vodka punch the size of my head I decided that we needed tattoos. Yeah… It was clearly a drink-induced idea, but I’ve wanted one for eight years now and I guess that’s enough time to procrastinate. (I procrastinate very well, in case you didn’t know)

Vodka Punch that started it all.

By the time we found a hotel and a tattoo parlor I was stone cold sober and rather dreading my decision. I was shaking and about to pass out as Brian and I perused the fonts for my tattoo. In the end, after some intense hand-squeezing on my part and poor Brian’s hand being gouged out by my nails (lucky for him they are very short), I ended up with an awesome tattoo that is just as I imagined it for all of these years. The funny thing is - I bought all these cuff bracelets so I could cover it up and now I don’t want to hide it. It’s on full display for all to see and I’m not ashamed.

My tattoo will remind me I have the courage!

Beale St. at night is crazy! It gets so crowded that it’s hard to walk. But, it is amazingly awesome fun to wander the streets with a drink in hand and not get in trouble.

These guys were amazing acrobats. They just took off down the street with back flips, handsprings and whatnot!

Jello shot in a syringe... yup, good idea!

Notice the police car... 

This was soon after sundown - and it only got more crowded and fun later.

The next morning we woke up and decided to go to Graceland. (http://www.elvis.com/graceland/) That place is nuts… We went on the tour of the house; which is so tacky and gaudy that it’s incredible. I noticed a few pieces of furniture and accessories I’m fairly certain my grandparents owned as well. I kept trying to remember that the house was as Elvis left it and was probably very modern for the time, but it was difficult at times to take everything seriously – like I said, it was REALLY tacky! We bought the mid-priced package and went on a tour of the automobiles, the airplanes and the costumes in addition to Graceland. I must say I loved the clothes the best. It’s crazy to see so much of Elvis’s stuff in person, and reading about some of the charities and things he was involved in to make Memphis a better place to live made me appreciate him more.

The one thing that was frustrating was that half of the grounds at the museum were gift shops. It was a never ending parade of trinkets that you couldn’t get away from no matter how hard you tried as you were funneled through them on the way to and from the exhibits. The commercialism of it was a bit ridiculous and I wasn’t the only person commenting on it. I could hear whispers of people saying, “Oh, what do you know, another gift shop!” So, the shops were a bit over the top, but I am glad to say I’ve now been to Graceland. I guess cross that off the bucket list…

After leaving Graceland we decided to head down to Mississippi since Brian and I had been not been there before and we weren’t sure when we’d ever get back down that way.

It was a very pretty, pleasant drive with farm fields surrounding us and very little traffic. We decided Tunica would be where we went to see the Mighty Mississippi and get some lunch. We were ‘hankering’ for some good southern food.

Mississippi River - we missed the ride on the Tunica Queen.

On the road to the river Brian said the funniest thing after I pointed out the cotton growing in the fields: “Wow! This is the first time I’ve seen cotton in the wild!” I don’t know what it was about what he said and how it was inflected, but I broke into laughter and couldn’t stop for so long. Maybe it’s because the cotton wasn’t really in the wild but someone did painstaking labor to grow and collect it, but it was funny to me. I like to bring it up to him every once in a while and I still get a good giggle out of it. Wild cotton clearly in a field… Okey dokey then, moving right along… Nothing to see here, people…

Our lunch at the Blue and White Restaurant in Tunica (http://blueandwhiterestaurant.com/) was delicious. Trying to find something to eat was a little bit hard for me since I can’t eat gluten, but I ordered a hamburger steak with onions and mushrooms and some turnip greens with a loaded baked potato. Brian was lucky – he got to have chicken fried steak, fried green tomatoes, and something else fried that I can’t remember. Delicious!!

Our journey being over we headed across the Mississippi and back into Arkansas to get back to base. It was just a nice little road trip all around. Brian started his class on Monday and I got my work done as well. Then it was time for me to go home. It was so nice to just let our sails out and see where the wind blew us for a couple of days. It’s not often we get to do that with the busy life here at home.

We did make it to my original place of interest before going to the airport. And it really was a Big Dam Bridge!!

Yesterday

Yesterday was the ten year anniversary of 9/11. It did not pass me by even though I didn’t comment on it. I thought about it all day. I think about it every day. It makes me sad, to my core, still. So much so that I can’t watch a documentary on it or listen to radio reports. I have to look away when something comes onto the TV and I have a hard time talking about it in anything more than facts. When I bring the human factor into it I can no longer bear it. I cried and cried and cried the day it happened and for many days after. Being from Boston I was terrified someone I knew was on one of those planes. My Father in Law (at the time he wasn’t my FIL, just my boyfriend’s father) was a Captain for an Continental, based out of Newark, and I was so scared until we heard from him. My Mother in Law (same situation) was a flight attendant for United. We were terrified for her. As more news came out, and I learned all of my loved ones were safe, I breathed a small sigh of relief. My dad called to tell me he was over Pennsylvania when the plane there went down and had to make an emergency landing. He wasn’t very far from the site of the crash. It was so close and so scary. I still remember the eerie silence from the skies as air traffic was shut down.

Along with the rest of this country, I was terrified with what was going to happen next. I lived in Europe during (what is now known as) the first Gulf War and it was quite scary at times. You didn’t know if the war would spill over to Europe, or if long-range missiles would be able to reach you and hit you when you played outside. We had bomb shelters built into every home we lived in – left over from WWI and WWII – and I would wonder if we would ever have to use them. We did not, thankfully, need them for anything other than wine storage.

I was there when the Berlin Wall came down. I have a piece of it somewhere. I was there when so many great things were happening for the people, yet there seemed to be an overwhelming sense of dread, like the other shoe could drop at any time and we would be scattered and scrambling, the peace over and the skies dark once again. I was in Zug, Switzerland for its 500 year celebration, and I was scared we would have to bike home in a hurry. The fear subsided over time.

We moved to Germany after Switzerland and it was in Germany that the fear set in again. I went to an International school – a school with around 180 countries represented. Many of the students were children of military officers and diplomats. We had armed guards at the school and a fence topped with razor wire. We stayed in the compound all day and were only released to people with proper ID. It brought my fear back again. I was young and idyllic and didn’t understand why people would want to hurt each other. I still don’t understand it.

And so it was that 9/11 brought back those gasp-inducing fears from my childhood and rendered me unable to function above a base level. I thought we would be living in that fear again; that uncertainty. We pulled together as a nation and tried to right the wrong. People signed up for the military, we were patriotic, we seemed to forget our differences (as long as someone wasn’t Muslim – which was not right or ok) and we banded together to try and help each other. In light of the tragedy and the prejudices going on, I was very proud of this country. Having lived in other cultures, I would always choose America and it made me proud to be from this country.

Brian rejoined the Army Guard after 9/11 – it was the only branch that would take him because of his previously broken leg that occurred while he was a Marine – and he went off to training. We weren’t engaged yet, so I spent time alone while he trained and drilled and learned his new role in life. We were married two or three days before his first deployment in 2003.

In the last ten years we have endured much and learned much and come out stronger because of it. I am sad that I lost the rest of my innocence that day. I am sad that most of us did. I had lived close enough to a war zone as a child that I thought I would be immune to it; immune to the panic and fear when things are uncertain in the future.

I did not lose a family member or friend on that day. I am so fortunate. I will never be able to express my condolences for the people that were lost that day. Words do not express my pain for them. It is with my heart that I send a silver thread of thoughts to them and hope they know that I stand beside them even though they do not know me and probably never will.

Brian and I were in Tunica, Mississippi yesterday. We stopped to get something to eat on our way back to Little Rock after visiting Memphis, TN. The TV was showing the memorial services and reports and it was hard to avoid looking. I mentioned to him that I couldn’t watch these programs. He said he can’t, either. He tried a couple of weeks ago and broke down. For both of us the memory is alive in our minds every day. As we sat there, eating delicious southern food on a highway lined with cotton, I told him, pointing to the TV, that we would not be here (meaning Tunica) if not for that. And it’s true. I don’t know when we would have found ourselves in Tunica, Mississippi, if 9/11 had never happened. I think our drive through the sparsely populated southern countryside was what we needed yesterday. Every day we are apart is enough of a reminder of things that transpired ten years ago, and that which happened next to lead us where we will be in the future.

The sacrifice we make daily is a sacrifice for the survivors of 9/11, which includes our whole country. Every single citizen. I am proud of Brian and all of our service men and women who work ceaselessly to defend our freedoms here in the USA. I have been where life isn’t as carefree as the one we live here. The people killed on 9/11, and those during the following wars will not be forgotten by me, my children and my family. We live our memorial daily. Ten years on the memories and images burned into my mind are still too raw and painful. May they all rest in peace and may we all find peace.