Transported

I've been caught up in too many thoughts lately. Too much going on. Too much stress. Too much negative crap clouding my way...

Driving home from work yesterday (in the million dollar car...) I found myself lost in thought again. It was a very strange afternoon: Dark rain clouds combined with the ever present Quebecois fire smog created a surreality I only wish I could paint. My mind wandered as I entered a hazy section of the road.

As I came through it, a cool breeze blew through my open window clearing the fog in the air and my head. I gripped the wheel and for a moment found myself transported to Route 73 North on the approach to my home town. The roads were wet from a sudden downpour and I swerved to avoid the frogs that were ever present in the road after a storm. A simpler time. A beautiful place. A ride home to sit on the porch and talk with my mother and watch the clouds lift up over the mountains.

And as fast as it came, it was gone. I wasn't in New York. I was on my way back to reality. But that short trip soothed my soul and gave me strength to move forward again.

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

While enjoying a lazy Sunday morning snuggle in bed with the boys, the conversation drifted from yawns, to snakes, to trips to the beach, to family, to life, to death, to Mema.

We talked about how even though my mother is in Heaven, she is always with us.

As he curled up in the crook of my arm and draped a leg over me, Owen looked up, so innocent...

Owen: Mama, is Mema in your belly?

Mama: No Silly, she's in my heart.

Owen: No Mama, I think she's in your belly. That's why it's so big!

Off to the treadmill for Mama...

Words of Wisdom

Finn, this morning, witnessed me struggling with something:

"Um, Mama? Sometimes you have to look deep within yourself to solve your problems. Maybe you should do that."

"Wow. How'd you get so smart?" I said stealing a huge hug from my incredibly wise 5 year old...

"SpongeBob, Mama."


Well, there you have it folks: Eternal wisdom from within a pineapple under the sea.

Twisted

Perfect representation for how I'm feeling...

If You're Happy and You Know it...

I'm down, but not out. I've had to remind myself lately how truly blessed I am.

With these two at the helm it's really not that difficult to remember...

More soon.

Remembering Gaga

My grandmother died 14 years ago at the ripe old age of 86. She was still very active and still driving - as scary as that really was. She was a wonderful woman. Very stoic and dry, she didn't show affection much but she had so many qualities that I loved.


She had an extremely interesting life and she loved to share her stories with me: Going to art school; adventures in cars in the years when driving 10 miles an hour was like riding a roller coaster; bathtub gin! I loved these times with her.

One of the things I loved most about my Gaga was her love of nature and plants. She taught me when to prune hydrangea and how to identify trillium and other forest flowers. We took long walks whenever we were together - which sadly wasn't that often. She was very much involved in conservation and, in fact, had driven herself to a conference where she had the stroke that would, two weeks later, take her life.

After she died, my sister and I went to her home to help clean out some of her stuff. The things that were most meaningful to me were her plants. K and I took several. She a beautiful Jade, me a happy Christmas Cactus. We both took clippings from a huge vine that nearly filled a large greenhouse window in her kitchen.

For years, this clipping didn't do much. I wondered why it was so special; why Gaga had loved this plant so much. The leaves were pretty. Waxy dark green. But beyond that? Meh.

Then one day about 10 years ago, I smelled this overwhelming sweet scent in my apartment. I searched high and low but couldn't figure out what it was. I kept sniffing around and finally found the source:

Gaga's Hoya had finally bloomed.


And now it blooms several times a year. It's prolific really. I have created multiple plants from this one clipping of hers. It is an honor and a privilege to be one of the keepers of this amazing plant. And every time I smell that wonderful scent and see the beautiful blooms, I remember her.

She would have been 100 today. Happy Birthday Gaga. I miss you.

Memories

While I was working at the computer yesterday, Finn discovered a box of photographs in the closet. He brought one to me and asked who it was. I told him and he sat there for a few moments and looked at my 17 year old face and that of my highschool friend Lexie. He put the picture back and then brought me another one. And another. And then the whole box.

He climbed up on my lap and for the next hour we went through that box of photos together.

"Is her name really Lizard, Mama?" "Why are you singing in to a hair dryer?" "That's the boy you had a crush on?" "What's a crush Mama?"

I had forgotten some of the names of the people in the box, but as we thumbed through them I started to put together some of the missing pieces. He enjoyed looking at those pictures with me as much as I loved reliving some wonderful youthful memories.

I wish I had a picture of the two of us together in that chair yesterday. That's a memory I'll never forget.

Be Here Now

If you don't know Ray, you should.



Be Here Now - Ray Lamontagne

Don't let your mind get weary and confused
Your will be still, don't try
Don't let your heart get heavy child
Inside you there's a strength that lies

Don't let your soul get lonely child
It's only time, it will go by
Don't look for love in faces, places
It's in you, that's where you'll find kindness

Be here now, here now
Be here now, here now

Don't lose your faith in me
And I will try not to lose faith in you
Don't put your trust in walls
'Cause walls will only crush you when they fall

Be here now, here now
Be here now, here now

The Difference Between Men and Women

Me: I really need to give the bathrooms a good scrubbing.

Daddy-O: Why?

Good Deeds

I manage the technology for a small Inbound Call Center. We have thousands of toll free numbers that ring in here at any given time depending on the promotions we're running. When a particular campaign has run its course, I send the phone numbers to an unmanned extension. The calls that ring to this line are mostly wrong numbers. But from time to time, when I have nothing better to do, I'll answer the line to see what the caller is looking for. Today was one of those days.

The first call I picked up was from a woman who was trying to contact Walgreen's prescription mail service in Florida. She told me she would try the number again. When I picked up her call the second time, she hung up on me. The third time, I offered to help her. The number she called was printed on an insert she received with her last mailing. She had tried to contact them via they're website but had been unsuccessful She had been on the phone for an hour trying to track down the right department and had been transferred too many times to people who couldn't help her. I looked up the information on-line for her and found a local number in Florida. She sighed. I realized that she'd have to pay for the local call, so I put her on hold and dialed it myself. When I got back on the line with her I gave her a toll free number that would get her to the right place. She told me she was amazed that I had gone out of my way to help a little old lady in Wisconsin who had hung up on me.

The second call I picked up was another older lady in Dayton Ohio trying to reach her Healthcare Advocate to see about getting a reduced price on her anti-depression medication. She doesn't have a computer so I spent about 30 minutes on the phone with her tracking down the correct number. I learned that she married young, had two children and then divorced. If she hadn't had her kids so early she supposes she would have gone to Woodstock. She's now living in "the most boring state in the nation" but has a boyfriend who takes her to interesting places. She surmises that they'd take more trips if she could actually stand him for more than a few days at a time. She'd like to get a computer but she's not sure she has the attention span to learn it - though there are lots of things she'd like to "Google". Turns out she had just transposed a digit when she dialed the phone number and got to me. I gave her the correct number and she told me how fortunate she was to have reached me today. I really wanted talk with her more.

Each of these anonymous women did me a good deed today. Their random interaction with me filled a little cranny in my soul that has needed nourishment. There is nothing more fulfilling than helping someone get what they need whether it be information or just an ear for a moment or two on a cold and lonely winter's day.

The Track

My funk is still there. No - Right here wrapped around me like an old sweater that really should have been thrown away a long time ago.

Last night my husband asked me if I was okay. He said I didn't even seem like I was here. Is it time to find someone to talk to?

Wow. How's that for a wake up call?

Here I was thinking I was the Stealth Bomber - doing a good job of hiding the fact that maybe I was dealing with a pesky little bit of depression. Guess not.

It's time.

The forced smile I put on for the sake of the boys isn't fair. To them or to me. I'm finding there are a lot of contributing factors - I'm finally beginning to name them. The stink of this funk has gotten too ripe and it's time to send it down the drain with the dirty bathwater.

The track always leads back to the same place: Despite several go 'rounds to convince myself otherwise, I dragged my ass out of bed at 5:00 this morning and got on the treadmill. Recent attempts at getting back in to a routine have been tough to keep up. (Damn Christmas cookies!)

I know I am better when I'm exercising. I know this. It really is amazing how a measly 30 minutes can clear the cobwebs and point your day in an entirely different direction.

And as far as finding someone to talk to? Well sorry, I hope you don't mind, but for now you're it.

It's time to refocus on what makes me happy and to find a way to quiet the sulking, sad, "boo-hoo for me" little girl who has forgotten how to take care of herself. Perhaps the longer days might help a bit too.

"Shit a cat's ass it's good to see the sun again." - from Judevine by David Budbill

Gotta get the glitter back. It's time.

My Big Boy

Owen is doing so well with the potty training - even with being sick this week. He doesn't even ask for help unless he needs a wipe. If he has an accident, he quietly takes off his pants, puts them in the laundry basket and puts on new "ungavare" himself. I'm so proud.

This morning, we were all going about our usual routine. Daddy-O happened upon O in the bathroom peeing all by himself.

"Wow Owen! Nice job! Raise your hand if you're a big boy."

Both Owen and Daddy-O raised their hands.

"I'm a big boy too!"

"No, Daddy! You a Daddy!"

It put a big smile on my otherwise grumpy face.

Snow Day!

People look at me like I have four heads when I say I love the snow. But I do. I love winter.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a fan of sub-freezing temperatures and ice storms. Nor do I much care for patchy, old, dirty snow. But there’s nothing like a foot of fresh powder to blanket an otherwise dreary view.

And as long as the temperature is above freezing and there's no snow in my boots, I’m a happy camper. So are my guys.

Early New Year's Resolution

I had to do it now. It was too important to wait.

I've stopped yelling.

I hate myself when I yell at my kids. They're just being kids after all. It's their job to push all my buttons and drive me insane. It's their duty to try to kill us as soon as they can. If we're not around they can eat Skittles for breakfast.

Oh. Wait. That's what they had this morning. Hmmm. Whoops.

Anyway, I've found myself yelling a lot lately. I don't really know what it is. I'm just a lot less patient these days. Stress? Economics? Holidays looming just over the horizon? It's a combination of things for sure and it's ugly. It's obviously effecting me and more so the boys. Poor Bii has taken to curling up in a ball - usually crawling under the table or behind a chair when I raise my voice. O just starts crying immediately and dives in to me seaking comfort. It's not fair to them. They really are just kids being kids.

So, I have changed my evil ways and now refuse to get pissy when they don't do as I have asked. I vow to take deep breaths and count silently to 10. I will actually LOWER my voice when I want them to listen. I will practice patience and understanding. I will put myself in their little shoes and try to remember how hard it is to be small.

There is no reason to yell if they refuse to brush their teeth. If they fight over a toy, they'll learn that they have to work it out for themselves. I happen to like the way Green beans squeek in my teeth, but it doesn't me everyone else should. Pots and pans were meant to be used as drums. The news can wait. It's all gloom and doom anyway.

I've been focusing on this for the better part of a week now and I'm amazed at how much more calm I am. Getting out of the house this morning was a bit of a challenge - it always is on Mondays - but I kept calm and actually laughed at the comedy that it really was.

Thanksgiving at Grampa's could prove to be a challenge. But one I'm ready to take on.

I just hope this is a resolution that lasts.

Wordless Wednesday

Thanks for the Day Off...

Tomorrow is Veteran's Day. To many, it's just another day off. For me? It's more. I've already got a lump in my throat. Tomorrow there will be parades and graveside ceremonies; Flags and Potluck dinners; Tears and hearty handshakes; A Haunting Taps played by a lone trumpet. I am truly awed by these events. I get chills as the marching band goes by followed by the wheel chair brigade of amputees. Though I am conflicted by war, I am humbled by the choice of these heroes to have put their lives on the line to defend our freedom. My freedom; My children’s freedom.

Who, in their right mind, would walk in to this knowingly? I don't know anyone who agress with this current war, however they still enlist. How, as a parent, can anyone allow their child to go off to war? I cannot imagine how my sister-in-law sleeps at night knowing her only son is in Iraq right now.

I will never understand, and I selfishly pray that my boys won't choose the military route, but I know someone's child must - or where would we be? I will forever hold these brave men and women with the utmost esteem. They have my undying gratitude for what they have given me and my family.

I salute you. Today, tomorrow and every day.

Goodbye Diana (Could you send my love to Ma?)

This week the mother of a dear old friend of mine passed away after nearly 5 years of fighting leukemia.

She is at a place I remember all too well. The beginning of a journey no one wants to take. The beginning of the road of discovering who you are, alone – without your mother. Perhaps losing a parent is when we truly grow up. Or, really, when we’re forced to grow up.

Some days I still can’t figure out how I’m going to get through it all without her. The fact that I can’t pick up the phone to share an observation, a joy, a sorrow, a dilemma, a milestone… it makes me feel… – Shit! I don’t know what it makes me feel like. I can’t find the right word. But, dammit, she’d be able to help me define this feeling! She’d help me talk it out and pull myself through. So, FUCK! Even more than 3 ½ years later I’m still floundering. Maybe not all the time, but, just… dammit. Just when I think I’ve got my shit together I feel myself falling off the edge again. Some days I shatter and can’t put the pieces back together, I can’t pull myself back and my throat tightens and… I find myself in a knot again. Poor, poor me. Like I’m the only one who ever lost their mother. This just sucks.


I wish Jenny didn’t have to start her journey now. Ever. Maybe she’ll get through it better than I have done so far… Maybe I can learn a lesson or two...

Ignorance? Apathy? (I don't know what to call it...)

Let me start off by saying that today is such a momentous day. I'm so pleased with how the election turned out. Relieved really.

I had a horrifying moment yesterday that I'm still grappling with.

While waiting for a meeting to begin someone commented on the I Voted Today sticker on my lapel. She told me she had to wait until after work to go; that she had to run home, get her baby and race to the polls before they closed. She was so excited she could hardly concentrate.

When our colleague, a 27 year old manager was asked if she had voted yet she replied:

"Are you kidding? I'm not voting! It's too inconvenient to vote! I have to drive there, park my car in the garage, walk to City Hall and stand in line?!? I can't believe I can't vote on-line!! I'm not voting until they make it EASY for me to vote!"

I had to walk away.

Seriously, I don't think any other state has made it easier to vote than Maine. They all but do it for you. I chose not to submit an absentee ballot because I love the feeling of going to the polling station, pulling the curtain closed behind me and filling in the ovals next to my candidate's name. There's something so amazing about being a part of this process.

I am thrilled beyond words that I had the opportunity - no, privilege - of being a part of history yesterday. But I just can't get past this ignorant woman's view. I'm nearly certain I've lost all respect for her. I can barely look her in the eye today...