A Story They Know

Time to give up our souls,
to set fire to structures and run out in the street.

Time to ferment.
How else can we leave the world-vat and go to the lip?
We must die to become true human beings.

[sic]

With our faces so close to the love mirror,
we must not breathe, but rather change
to a cleared place where a building was
and feel the treasure hiding in us.

With no beginning or end we live in lovers
as a story they know.

If you will be the key,
we will be tumblers in the lock.
~Rumi

Today was my last visit to the pain clinic for epidural steriod injections in my back. It was a series of three injections. I felt so fantastic after the first injection, even though it ended up being a bit out of schedule since I had a saddle block injection instead of having them put me fully under. This means that I was awake during the process, as they tried to find the correct spot in spinal canal and then determine that they actually needed a longer needle. I couldn't feel pain, but I could feel every tug and prod. Not a nice feeling. Afterwords, I felt immensely better and decided there might be something to this after all.

The second shot, they knocked me out. The first time I had ever been totally out. Very weird to wake up and know stuff had happened to you, but have no recollection. To top it off, I felt so horribly, I wasn't even sure they had done the procedure.

Today I woke up in so much pain that I figured nothing they could do would make it any worse, so I went. I really *wanted* the saddle block this time to help ease the pain. It's just a bitch to sit for two hours while my legs think about waking up again.

I wish to burn down this structure. To have it rise again anew. To find the treasure hiding inside of me. What might that look like?

Dying of the Light

This is such a fantastic medium. This is my journal, for all to see. I write at times, to one, and then to a few and then to no one in particular.

And, while I am swept up in the awe of refinding a Kindred, I find my mind elsewhere at this precise moment.

A heavier place. A place I don't like to look. A place I seem to keep visiting. Slowly, slowly, I am learning the lesson.

My house reeks of cat urine. Again. Refreshed by my bitter and angry 14 year old Calico female cat.

I can't do this again. When it was Sebastian, when it was my baby, I put up with it. I put up with his inability to make it inside the catbox. But this is no inability. This is pure spite. Pure hatred of the two children and the other cats who have come (and in the cats case, may have gone from) into our lives.

We have had Bina since she was six months old. A kitten, but not tiny. Still, we are her family. She just refuses to change, to go with the flow, to adapt. As far as I can see, there is only one solution. To put her down.

Find another familly? I just can't imagine it. As I said, she doesn't adapt well.

But the thought of killing off a family member because they are old and grouchy? Well, that doesn't bode well for me down the road. I just have emotional and moral trouble with it. Sebastian had cancer. I made peace with that.

This? I just don't know.

I just don't know.

The Return of My Shams

There are no coincidences.

It's a long story that I don't have time to tell right now, but I will at some point, the meeting my Shams/my Thelma.

It is no wonder that my Webkinz Koalas have been my favorite.
It is no wonder that I have been reading Rumi again.
It is no wonder that I have been listening to Sarah McLachlan's Possession.
It is no wonder that the frame that long held your picture was accidentally broken. (The picture had been moved, thankfully.)

For years I looked for you and could not find you.

I gave up, not because I no longer loved, but because the searching seemed futile. I am everywhere on the Internet. Easy to find if you wanted to find me.

And you finally found me.

There is no anger, Thel. Just relief. I am so glad to have you back in my life, whether for one more moment, or the rest of our lives.

**aside: NJ is throwing an ultra-dramatic temper tantrum. (oh yay.) **

I have open arms for you and nothing but love. I will share our story, if you don't mind. I love our story. :-)

That to come later...

Things to Remember

This hasn't been the best year for me. I have been struggling.

Struggling with My Self: Those questions of what the heck am I doing? What do I want from this life?

Struggling with work: I just can't seem to pull it together. My desire is all but gone. I used to want to succeed. To put forth my best effort and make a difference.

Struggling with my body: Overeating. Not choosing healthy foods. Not exercising enough. Increased pain. New physical issues. Increased medications. Increased frustration.

Struggling on being: How to truly be myself around friends and family and not play into preconcieved notions on who I should be.

But... beyond this... are things I need to take and treasure with me from this year.

NJ has learned to walk, no... run. It happened within days. She still looks at times like a drunk little sprite, but that waddle is so absolutely precious. And her smile? She got those first four teeth so quickly (four months!) and then it took FOREVER for others to follow. She has the widest gap-toothed smile, that is ALWAYS filled with joy. Simple, pure joy.

It's a deceptive smile, innocent and sweet. Sweet, she certainly can be. Innocent? Not on your life. NJ is a true spitfire, through and through. She's curious and always on the go. (Physically and mentally.) Her first words were: "Mama," "Bubba" (G) and "Dada" in that order. Bubba is usually BUH-BBBAAA!!!! (Her men are wrapped around her little finger.) Oh, I forgot, her men includes her grandfather, "GoStars" as known by the other three grandkids but to NJ, he's her "Buh-bee." (buddy) We'll see which names sticks in the long run. I think my dad is kind of sweet on the special nickname.

I hate to say it, but I think that's all for tonight. It's been an exhausting day.

It All Started Here, Jimmy Choo

Honey, Baby's got herself a brand new pair of shoes.

We ventured out to the Mall the other night in order to get M a pair of desperately needed shoes. He's generally quiet about these things, making a mention here and there: "Honey, I am really needing a new pair of shoes." I dismissed it because, it seems we *just* got them. We did, about a year ago. Still, M came home and showed me his shoes, the soles merely attached at the toe and heel, naught in between. Even worse, the leather/vinyl and begun to peel upwards. Unrepairable.

I caved.

"Fine, let's go get new shoes." Our finances are in poor condition and the thought of dropping $200 or so on dress shoes just wasn't what I wanted. Still, M never asks for much and I am a huge believer is buying comfortable shoes. (FYI-- the previous route was the cheaper route. Kenneth, your downline shoe sucks. I still like your other leathers, but this has knocked you down a couple pegs.)

M was brave enough to take both kids to the Mall on his own. I met them there from work. NJ made herself busy as usual, checking out shoes, flirting with everyone who passed by and running from her brother, who was deemed her keeper. Luckily, I had the forethought to grab a handful of Snickers bites and kept slipping them to G as he would pass by, chasing NJ of course. It made his task a little more tolerable.

M selected a pair of Ecco shoes: not too cheap, not too expensive and a HELLUVA lot better made than Ken's shoes. Everyone was looking a little tired, but I decided to wander over to the kid's shoes. We hit the sale section after perusing the merchandise. The salesgal measured NJ's feet, a "feat" in and of itself.

Salesgal: "I think I only have a couple shoes in her size, let me go look."

Me: "Okay."

I continue to peruse and NJ and G continue to chase around. Shortly, Salesgal returns.

Salesgal: "Well, I only have one pair, but they are wides. Would you still like to try them?"

Me: "I don't think she's a wide, but sure."

We caught NJ and sat her down. The Salesgal pulled out the shiny silver and pink pearlesant wonders from the box. NJ took an audiable breath.

Salesgal cooing at NJ: "Can I put these on you?" Salesgal wiggles the shoes near NJ's feet. NJ's face lights up like I have never seen. It is a look of love and awe --pure delight. NJ's mouth is a gape and full grin. The Salesgal slides the shoes effortlessly on NJ's feet. NJ can't stop staring at her feet for a minute.

"Oh #%*!." I think. There it is. Her undying love for shoes has begun.

NJ slides off the little sofa and takes off. She is flying. She is dancing. She is in love.

"Um, I guess we'll take them." I tell the Salesgal.

Do I buy the shoerack now, or wait?

My Old Man

I really need to make more time to write. Writing is such therapy.

I know many of you were worried about my last post, but don't be. I am currently swimming the ocean of my life wondering which direction to head. That isn't such a bad thing.

At the time I was feeling the loss of my mother and the loss of my sixteen year-old Siamese, Sebastian. Sebastian was my little man. A little piece of my heart and soul. I got him in college when he was a mere five weeks old. He made life a little less lonely. My constant companion, my confidant. He heard many joys and secrets, and many heartbreaks. His unwavering patience should be the stuff of legend. Even as a young cat, he let the young girls I babysit carry him around without a nip or even a blink. He loved with abandon, purring like a freight train and rubbing his face against you in appreciation in typical "kitty kiss" style.

As time went on, I got married and Sebastian came with me into the relationship. He and M accepted one another immediately. We also adopted another cat the day we all moved in together, Bina. Bina and Sebastian took a few days to get used to each other, and in time, we had bonded as a family. They were our cats and we were their people.

When G and NJ, and various other cats came along in our household, Sebastian and Bina didn't like it much. They had always been our first children. They had always gotten our undivided attnention. And they didn't like sharing. Sebastian came around first and realized that no matter how many people and animals came in and out, he was special to me. I think he felt lonlier than before, but felt a little solace in knowing he was special to me.

Earlier in the year, we had noticed how skinny Sebastian was becoming. We chalked it up to age, but did have him tested for diabetes and had his thyroid tested. All fine. The vet said he was in amazing shape for his age. Great coat, great teeth, great bloodwork... blah, blah blah. But a mother knows. A mother knows when something is wrong and I knew it. We watched him get skinnier and skinnier. Finally, another vet found a lump, a mass. This vet wanted to get a biopsy, operate, to get Sebastian set up on chemo, radiation. As much as I loved my old man, I couldn't. I knew it might buy us another year or two. We didn't have $2K or more to buy that kind of time, and at what cost to him? It was a cost I knew well from experience, the experience of my mom.

We took him home. We loved on him. Gave him more tuna.

In those days, he was my cat again. He slept on my side of the bed when he could make it up on the bed. He came to me for assurance. At a time when he was in so much pain, I could get a purr out of him.

In the end, it was actually easy to let go. Sebastian at his prime had been a 13.5 pound cat. At the end, he was just skin and bones and weighed ~7 pounds. I knew he was ready to go. He was tired and in pain. The cancer had spread, I think. When Sebastian was gone: M, G and I cried.

There is a Sebastian story I haven't published, and I think I will in the coming days as a tribute. He was such a special cat. So special that even my dad, who *hates* cats, liked him. (And still speaks fondly of him.)

Loss is difficult. Especially when you feel lost at times yourself. Sebastian was one of those "stabilities" in my life. I could always sit and hug him, bury my face into his white fur and let the sound of his enormus purr take over the chatter in my head. I could absorb his love and give it back, knowing he would have no expectations other than a full food bowl.

**************************************************************************

Let it go, let it roll right off your shoulder
Don’t you know the hardest part is over
Let it in, let your clarity define you
In the end we will only just remember how it feels

[sic]

Let it slide, let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine until you feel it all around you
And I don’t mind if it’s me you need to turn to
We’ll get by, it’s the heart that really matters in the end...

~Rob Thomas
"Small Wonders"

Let Your Clarity Define You

The waves do not stop moving, even if we are not standing near the beach.

And so the world has not stopped for me. And I have not stopped for the world.

But I imagine that I haven't been on the beach to bathe in the sun in awhile. I have been swimming in the murky depths.

It has been two years since my mom died and I still can't quite come to grips with it. I can't quite come to the totality of what that means for me. And there have been other losses too. My dear sweet boy, my first baby boy. And dreams. So many dreams have died. So much to mourn. So much loss.

And in this dark moment, two things happened. Several things really, but two significant things. I was presented with an opportunity just when I needed one (a sure thing), and I began tetering on the edge of losing another opportunity I already had.

My window has closed on the first opportunity, and the other opportunity is firming back up.

Regardless, regardless... I am beginning to see the shimmer of lights above me.

I hope it is Clarity.

Growing Up and Kid Conversations

So, this morning when I dropped G off at his day camp, I leaned down to kiss him. For the first time he put his head down and gave me a "MOM! DON'T EMBARASS ME THAT WAY" look. I kissed him on the cheek anyhow. This is the first time he's been unwilling to show public affection. It was just in front of the counselor, not even like any kids were around to witness the horror of his mother kissing him good-bye.

I was hoping we wouldn't have to deal with that one yet. Oh well. He's growing up, my firstborn baby. *sniff* There are times I still want him to crawl back into my lap where he's protected and safe and loved. Do we moms ever get over that? I don't think I will.

******************************************************
Speaking of babies... I had a lovely phone conversation with NJ yesterday.

Me, cooing into the phone: "Hi baby!"
NJ, sincerely: "Hi-yee bay-ha-bee."
Me: "You're supposed to say "Hi Momma!"
*Pause*
NJ responds with miscellaneous baby babble.
Me, grinning: "I guess 'Hi Baby' is a good start."

*****************************************************

G and I in the car last night, just the two of us. His Nintendo DS had run out of batteries so he was forced to talk to me. Unfortunately all he could muster was a constant stream of Super Mario wisdom and hypotheses. After having been nose down in the game for the entire day, I was hoping to get some real life conversation out of him:

Me, tired of Mario, this, Power Flower, that: "You know honey bunny, there is a whole world out there besides your Mario game or have you forgotten?"
G: "NO."
Me: "I mean, have you even noticed how green the grass is?"
G, perks up: "Green? Just like Luigi's cap, Mom!"

Can we say OBSESSION, borderline ADDICTION?

Ugh, I give up. Why did I get this game system for him in the first place?

Perhaps after he finds all 150 Power Stars, I can have my son back at least for a moment. Even if I don't get to kiss him anymore.

To Blog is Divine

Janine asked me why I don't blog anymore.

Actually, I blog all the time: in the car, running errands, in those funny moments I want to remember.... The problem is getting to the computer and having the sacred time to sit and write these things down before they go poof and we're on to the next thing.

Lately my life has been about overwhelm. I have been a virtual autobot, running on "Insane." Life is like this:

1) 6:30 am - try to become conscious, try to move, take pain pills, listen to my husband shower, wait.
2) 7:30-7:45 - hubby out of shower, have the pain pills kicked in?, can I walk straight?, I stumble to the shower and make it as hot as I can stand.
3)7:32-7:47 - rinse the sleepies away as best as possible, at times I have shower company which speeds up and slows down the process of getting moving, I wash as quickly as possible which often involves doing everything with one hand whilst the princess sits on one of my naked hips and stares in awe at the sprays of water and runs her hands through the sprays.
4) 7:45-7:55 - yell for assistance, if I have my naked hip monkey. Otherwise I get out and put the morning in overdrive: towel dry, deoderant, comb, underwear, make-up, dry hair upside down, run fingers through hair, search for the least stinky bra, search for the least stinky pair of pantyhose, go into broken record mode and tell G for the nth time to get dressed, find myself something to wear, search desperately for a matching pair of shoes
5)8:40 - grab purse, search for keys, rush out the door, with at least one child in hand
6) 8:41-9:10 - gravitate to the lane with the slowest driver, listen to sounds of "Me! Mario!" from the back seat, curse every drive who isn't moving to my satisfaction, screech into downtown and toss kid towards his day camp experience, pray there is an open handicap parking spot in the parking garage, feel the humid air dissolve any attempt I made to make my hair look styled, plop into my Aeron chair at work.
7) 9:15 - grab Coke and a bag of Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Cookies for breakfast and check email
8) 9:18 - 1:59 - perhaps do some work, read news, perhaps take a tutorial, try not to fall asleep
9) 1:59 - decide I should probably eat lunch. Usually I heat my box in our kitchenette here at work, but occasionally I run out to seek a satisfying lunch. Think healthy. (Which usually works, actually.)
10) 2:05 - 5:01 - perhaps work--if there is anything for me to do, try to educate myself, read news and such, flirt heavily with boredom, try not to fall asleep, try not to fall asleep, try not to fall asleep... eat chocolate from the candy jar located immediately next to my cube, try not to fall asleep yet again
11) 5:01 - pack my bags, head to G's day camp across the street, walk to the garage and listen to the latest Super Mario Nintendo DS update, throw things into the car, sit the parking garage for 10-15 minutes, creep through downtown, zigzag through neighborhoods, wave to Kay as we pass within sight of her house, pray that lights are green and that Buckner and Garland aren't backed up.
12) 5:50 - sit at Buckner and Garland through at least two lights, pull into NJ's day care in the nick of time (they close at 6:00), leave G nosedown in his DS while I rush inside to get my girlie, chat with the ladies about NJ's day, fight to buckle NJ into her car seat, give NJ a blankie which comes with a complimentary thumb for sucking
13)6:20 - pull up to the house, attempt to unload kids and get them inside, G disappears still nose down in his DS, NJ signs for "more" which means she wants food--now
14)6:30 - change out of work clothes, rummage through the kitchen for items to feed kids, pray that M comes home soon
15)7:00 - M comes home, bribes/threatens G to come out of his room and eat his supper, collapse on couch
16) 7:05 - NJ demands freedom from her chair and then proceed to climb on me, NJ then: attempts to call several people, changes the channel Momma's watching, mutes the channel Momma is watching, plays "up and down" on the couch and laughs wildly every time she climbs up, starts getting the infamous "sleepy bags" under her eyes.
17) 7:40-8:00 - get kids ready for bed, put NJ to bed if she isn't there already
18) 8:00 - start nagging G to change for bed
19) 8:30 - threaten to take away story time, if G can't get his frickin' boxers and T-shirt on
20) 9:00 - go to our room and pile on bed to read a chapter of Harry Potter (currently on Goblet of Fire)
21) 10:00 - finish chapter and escort G to bed, take meds to help me sleep
22) 10:10 - exhaustion has long set in, attempt to go to bed, hope I can get to sleep, hope I can stay asleep, think about all the housework I didn't get done, think about all the house improvements I want to do, wonder how I do this every day, wish it were the weekend, miss my friends, either fall asleep or get back up and surf on the computer until a time when I feel sleepy again
23) surf ebay, sleep--maybe here and there, with any luck sleep all night
23) 6:30 am - the alarm goes off

The Pick Up Artist

So, today's total of my "quick run" into Whole Foods, just to "pick up a few things" was $284.

I am physically incapable of going into a grocery store and spending less than $200. Granted, money goes out of the pocket much faster at Whole Foods, or should we say results in less bags. It didn't feel like that tonight though. Bags and bags of healthy stuff to cook for dinner. (If I ever had time, that is because I WORK. *grumble grumble*) If I had to cook too, we wouldn't eat until 9 pm every night. Or later. (which is, I guess, exactly what we'll have to do.)

Anyhow, so I am checking out of the line at Whole Foods, me and my mountainous basket of greeneries, roughage and free-range chicken. The lady in front of me looks at my mountain and spies hummus. "Oh! I forgot some of that... do you mind?"

"Not at all," I said, as people with small baskets of a few items glared at my vitamin-chocked bounty. (Whole Foods shoppers are so impatient at checkout!)

The lady came back to her basket as I was setting it up on the conveyor belt for her. She thanked me and we chatted some more. She was older than me, slim, no wedding ring, really, quite hot, actually. I instantly thought of my lonely widowed father who is desperate to find someone. And he likes petite women. Outgoing, friendly, petite women. This lady chatted me up, and then the gentleman checking us out. I checked her out. Hm... no ring...

I came THIS close to asking her... "So, I see you don't wear a wedding ring..." "Do you mind if I ask you a terribly unorthodox personal question: are you married?" "Are you dating someone?" "Would you like to?" "I mean, my dad is a widower and he's just getting out on the dating scene." "You seem like such a nice lady, and you shop at Whole Foods which is a plus." "I'd really like to set you up on a blind date, if I could."

I chickened out.

How do you pick up a woman for your dad? Should you even try?

P.S. If you *are* the really hot lady who was in line in front me at the Greenville Whole Foods in Dallas at 7:45 p.m. earlier this evening, wanna date my Dad? He has four really cute grandkids....

Download of Late

I don't know how people do this. Work, two kids, friends, family, shopping, sleeping, housework, exercise, sex, car repairs, doctor appointments, organizing, bill paying, etc. etc. etc.

HOW?!?!?!?

I liked being a SAHM. We slept until 10 am. We neglected housework in favor of watching Law & Order or having coffee with Kay. We picked up G at school, took him to karate and knew all the kids names and cheered them on. That was a day exhausting enough for me.

Now, I work.

And that's about it folks. I wake up, work, rush to pick up kids, barely think about dinner, probably end up eating something, get kids in bed, unwind a moment, go to bed myself.

So if you are feeling neglected, I am sorry. I haven't figured out how to balance my life yet. Just give me time.

NJ: Is crawling and pulling up on everything. She has this really weird crawl that is a half-walk/half-crawl kind of thing. In other words, she is dying to walk. She'll be there soon enough, too soon for me really.

NJ has added a new word to her list of vocabulary words, bringing that total to seven. She knows and says definitively: "Mama, Dada, Bubba (her brother, and this is quite possibly her favorite word since she is constantly screaming it), dis (this), dat (that), teefs (teeth) and the newest addtion: titty (kitty).

G: Is now sparring in his karate class. This is a HUGE leap from my sensitive boy who feels he needs a band-aide for every little bump and scratch. He's actually punching and kicking other people, and letting them punch and kick him. All with a huge grin on his face. A grin so big, he has a hard time keeping his mouthguard in.

G is proving to be a great big brother. NJ got something off the floor and tried to eat it (typical) and made gagging sounds. I rushed up and pried the object (I don't remember what, probably a water bottle top the kitties like to play hockey with) out of NJ's mouth. I told her "No, no" and "that scares Mama." G said softly, "Yeah, that scares me too." Awwww.

M: He's typical M, trying to keep up with the rest of us. He's been head down in his "airplane porn" (schematics, pictures of airplanes, running complex Excel spreadsheets he's created for airplane design) at any opportunity he can. (Usually late at night.)

And me? Well, there has been work. And feeling extra fibromyalgic crappy. And work. And visiting doctors. Doctor A, the general practictioner decided I had sleep apnea after I told I was falling asleep at work. (very unusual) Doctor B, my neurologist, doesn't know what is wrong with me, but suspects something new and ordered blood work and an MRI. (results still out)

Oh, and I worked.

And there was the "you should never take two new meds at the same time" incident which had me hallucinating in the middle of the night.

And then there was work.

And then there was a "hallelujah" moment, after I took one of the new meds separately and I felt about 7 times better than usual. (I am only on day 5 of that med, I shouldn't celebrate just yet.)

And there was work.

And thank you Kay for taking my children on short notice when one refused to go back to school after his dentist appointment, and then had to be called into action THE SAME DAY because my dear husband didn't watch the clock and left too late to pick up our infant daughter and, suprisingly, I HAD TO WORK, so I couldn't.

I could write more, I am sure, but I have to go to bed. Because, I have to GET UP AND GO TO WORK. (*Did I mention that I have an Aeron chair and get free sodas and candy bars/pretzels/granola bars at work in addition to that wonderful paycheck?*) <= silver lining

Texans Love Their Pets WAAAAY Too Much

Because I am too lazy to learn how to imbed the video into my blog at the moment:

http://www.dfwvetsurgeons.com/treadmill.html

Click on the video link.

Hey, it's my favorite way to exercise!

The Ick Must Go On

It's G's turn for the Supreme Ick. It started at 11 pm last night and made us get up every hour thereafter until M and NJ left this morning.

I slept in G's bed, because it was the easiest thing to do. I also remember that what gave me the most comfort as a kid was having my mom cuddle up next to me and stroke my hair.

I tell you what, that kid throws up like a champ. No fighting it, he just does it matter-of-factly. Telling him so last night seemed of no consolation, as he just rolled his eyes at me.

He feels better already. It took me four days to have a meal, and he's already had a snack and is now sitting down to lunch.

Such resilience!

Emergence from the Ick

I haven't been to work yet. I will start on Monday. I feel this is best since I have yet to eat a meal.

In my state of Supreme Ick, I have done my absolute best to avoid my children the past two days, so as not to pass on the Ick. Both have actually seemed fine with this. I was hoping NJ would put up more of a fuss that she doesn't have her beloved Mama around, but it does give her the opportunity to take a shine to Dada, which he deserves.

I know she misses me though.

As we headed towards bed last night, she was fussing in her crib. I went and scooped her up and took her into our bed. I attempted to breastfeed her, which I didn't think would work after all the dehydration. She seemed satisfied, and the point may not have been hunger anyhow. After she was done she laid and gazed at me lovingly.

Me: "Hi, Mama."

NJ: "Ma.... *contented sigh* MA." And she promptly closed her eyes and fell asleep.

For anyone out there who questions if you could love another child the way you love you first, let me tell you. I love G, FIERCELY. I can't imagine life without him. I would go to the ends of the earth for this kid. And then NJ came along and I wondered. But moments like that, moments of loving gazes passed between us... just show me how much love a person can have. My love for NJ isn't fierce, it is gentle. I can't imagine my life without them.

I am ready now. I am ready to move on and embrace this new job with zest and zeal. My kids are important and they love me. I love them. A job changes none of that. My fears subside.

My New Job

As luck would have it... my first day on the job was spent in bed with a horrid stomach flu. Chills, fever, nothing staying down, everything coming out both ends, severe muscle pain... basically just pure misery.

I still had a fever last night and so here I am at home today. Still not quite up to par, but not completely miserable.

I hope M and the kids don't get this.

I don't know when I will start the job, perhaps tomorrow. *sighs*

The Blow Job

On Sunday, we were undressing the kids for a bath when I noticed something strange.

Me: "Uh, G... why does it look like you rolled in the dirt naked?"

M and I peered at G's naked body. Sure enough, there were dark spots on parts of his little man parts.

M: "It looks like... lint...?"

G, matter of factly: "It's gum."

M and I in unison: "Gum?!?!"

Me: "Um, son, why is there gum on your penis?"

G, shrugs: "I put it there."

Me: "Why did you put gum on your penis?"

G, shrugs and looks at M, who is ducking his head while stiffling a laugh.

Me, brain short-circuiting: "I sure as hell hope you didn't put it back in your mouth after you were done."

G looks at me blankly.

Me: "Oh, get in the tub."

!@#&*?!?!?!?!?

Pillow Talk

NJ, loudly and pointedly: "MAMA."

Me looking at NJ next to me on the bed: "What?"

NJ: "MAMA."

Me: "What?"

NJ: "BOP."

Me: "Oh really?"

NJ: "BOP."

Me: "You don't say?"

NJ: "Bop.Bop.Bup."

Come Monday I won't have a small human being demanding to be in my personal, intimate space for every one of our waking moments together for at least 9 hours of the day.

I don't know whether I should be giddy or bawl my eyes out.

it's a small crime and i got no excuse

I've been overcome with silence lately and it has permeated my life. And that's okay.

It means I haven't blogged. I haven't talked to alot of people. I have lost my way a bit, but slowly I am finding my way back. So many little things have happened, and though I can't explain them all, nor will I try, I will touch on a few of the highlights.


NJ.
NJ has been a whirlwind of evolution. She's ina period of rapid progression and it has been a joy to watch her unfold.

She's getting her top two teeth, which is a total bitch. I think that means it is time to stop breastfeeding. I wish I didn't have to be the one to break it to her, because it isn't gonna be pretty. She loves her momma milk and bonding time. But, with my nipple between two pairs of sharp objects... that's a deal anyone would back out of quickly. Am I right?

NJ is on the verge of crawling. She has, on our bed, but not on the hardwood floors. I don't blame her since they are hard and FREEZING COLD. I am not ready for her mobility, or rather, the house isn't ready for that scenario. Yet, G survived the landmines, and I am sure NJ will too. She has also pulled herself up in her crib to standing position which means it is time to lower the crib. She is going to be a girl on the go. I told everyone that when she was still womb-ridden. And here it is.

NJ is CLEARLY NOT A VEGETARIAN. We have been easing her into cereals and fruit, but she took an opportunity to steal a sausage from my plate last weekend and enjoyed every bite of that dead pig. I found it pretty yummy too, a girl after my own heart. G, you're alone in your thinking. Steak, here we come!

NJ is saying Mama and means it. She also says "Bubba" to G and means it. A bad habit I started. Hopefully she will call him by his given name instead of Bubba all G's life. We'll keep working on that. And working, and working...


Friends.
I still love you all. Each and every one. I just have been in a funk. And in pain. This weather is exaserbating my fibromyalgia. Last weekend I took more than my alotted pain meds and even escalated to the heavy duty stuff. (Which didn't make a dent.) I am sorry for disappearing. I just will occasionally, and it's not personal. I need you all.

I make a public apology to Janine, for missing her birthday. I love you and celebrate you always and I am sorry I failed you on the one day you needed to feel that love and celebration. I hope this weekend will make up for that.

Thank you also to a distant friend who always grounds me. You're a Sure Thing.


Work.
I have actually been on a couple of interviews. Nothing I can be excited about just yet. Next week, though, I have an interview I am getting excited about. Cross your fingers for me. Prayers, good thoughts, all those. I hate to think of leaving NJ, but my pocketbook will thank me.


Photos.
I am taking a photography class. It is a thoughtful present from my wonderful husband. I am really enjoying it and may have found a more active hobby for myself. (Versus "bookworm" which isn't active, but entire absorbing.) My Nikon D-50 is serving me well, although I am already having "camera envy" of Heather at Dooce.com who just got a Canon 5D, in addition to her Nikon D-70. I actually got up at dawn the other morning (on purpose, for the best light) and had a photo shoot of random objects. Here's my favorite shot:

Yes, it's a shoe. I was the crazy lady up at dawn taking pictures of shoes and other miscellaneous objects on my front porch. This shoe is from my favorite new pair of shoes. But, that is a blog for another day.

Next on Law & Order...

On the cellphone with M on the way from the hobby shop to Whole Foods...

M: "We saw something kind of exciting..."
G pipes up from the back seat: "No! Something VERY exciting!"
Me, thinking of all the trouble a hobby store might be: "Oh? What was that?"
M: "Well, we witnessed a shoplifting."
Me: "Did you report it?"
M: "We didn't have to, the store manager was on top of it. Some guy was mad and took off with a remote control helicopter kit."
G: "And they are going to jail!"
M: "Yeah, they had sold a kit to this guy earlier and he was mad that when he crashed it, it broke. He was insisting on getting another one for free. They refused, so he grabbed one and ran. They had the guy's credit card information and license plates."
Me: "That was stupid."
M: "Yup."
G, from the backseat: "Hey Dad! Will this be on one of the crime shows Momma watches?"
M: "Uh, I don't think so, son."

Hey, it could be the next Law & Order spinoff... Law & Order: Petty Theft. A whole show dedicated to crimes solved in five minutes.

G would like it. How about you?