April 2003 Archives

With all the important events I bring here, with all the emotions I share, I really, really ought to be writing something about Now. No words, yet.

J. is a genuine pleasure to care for and have around.

Just now he informed me of something. Do you know why we go to the basement if there's a tornado? Because a tornado is too big to go down the stairs! (and thus can't get us there)

Of course when he says it it sounds a bit closer to tomato. tornado +tomato

Earlier today, knowing someone upset me, J. said in this matter of fact, this-is-what-I'm-gonna-do tone of voice: "WELL. I'll just have a dinosaur eat him [the person upsetting me]." Made me laugh when I'd been crying.

The thing about J. is that he didn't make the dinosaur comment out of three year old fantasy. He knew just what he was saying, and he said it intentionally to be funny, to make me laugh, to cheer me up. Even at three he's a bit protective of his momma.

All of my kids are a great pleasure. Precious, precious blessings, and I'm not being sarcastic.

The phone rang right before the end of my shift as seems to have become a habit-- can I stay thirty minutes late? As usual, whoever's coming in next doesn't feel like coming in just yet. Thoughts of my kids-- where will they go?! who can keep them?! what do I do? who do I call?-- race through my head, but I say smile and say yes, I can stay.

I made under $17 in tips on a 7.5 hour shift, but I'm not complaining. I love my job. (It's just too bad it doesn't pay...)

Went to my in law's to pick up the kids, waited there for ten minutes before discovering they're five miles in the opposite direction at my mom's. The kids throw a fit (MS, mainly) and don't want to leave. By the time I drag them to the car, remember we have no milk, go to the store for milk and food for supper and get home again, it's 7pm. Luckily the girls have no homework (or claim they don't; they left their schoolwork in their dad's car), so I can concentrate on the things I need to do. I improvise a supper that I had imagined, and it tastes as good as I had imagined. It takes until 8:30 to get the basics done, which includes giving the kids a scoop of ice cream each that I had flippantly mentioned at grandma's, and thus obligated myself to. ("Moooooooom, you said you'd give us ice cream!") The ice cream is old anyway, so I'm glad they ate it up and got it out of my freezer. And it never tasted good to begin with, in my opinion.

We spend 30 minutes together on the couch reading books (to my pleasure, there's a Dr. Seuss book I've not read before), and then I have to pray for them. I've tried to convince them night after night to pray to God themselves, but they make me do it. I don't pray, but I've taken to speaking quick token prayers because they swear if I do they won't have nightmares. I thank God for them, and pray for their health, safety, and personal growth.

   "Will you walk us upstairs, Mom? We're scared." It wouldn't be uncommon for a stressed, impatient me to tell them no, they had nothing to be afraid of and could walk themselves upstairs. But I'm really trying, so I smile and say yes, I will go with you . First we make a pit stop in the kitchen where I prepare some vanilla and strawberry milk.

   "Girls, we've had such a nice night. I really don't want to come up here every five minutes yelling and threatening. Let's have a nice night. Just lay down and go to sleep. I know you can do it. You can play with your toys while I go wash my face and get ready for bed. When I come back, you're going to lay down and be quiet. And if you do that, I'll let you wear dresses tomorrow." And it works.

I'm very tired, but I'm expecting a phone call, so I bake cookies and chat with a friend who really needed me. I dawdle around, killing time, watching the clock, waiting, until I wait until the point I begin to wonder and think. I settle my thoughts on conclusions and go to bed. I open my diary to write about the waiting and the conclusions I drew from it and am surprised to see the last entry I wrote is nearly identical to what I was just getting ready to say. I guess I don't learn my own lessons. Oh well. Everything's been good. It's a good night.

I open the window so the sound of rain will carry me to sleep. I lay on my back, eyes open, looking at the drops of rain on my window which glisten like diamonds or tears, and think more. My precious son lays next to me. When I think he's asleep I whisper to him from my heart, "I love you. I will take good care of you," but he stirs. He turns his soft cheek to my face and whispers back with genuineness that matches mine, "I'll take good care of you, too."

How blessed am I to have this little one! To lay at night with such love!

And later, when we both wake from awful nightmares, he wraps his arms around my neck, and I my arms around him, and we comfort each other.

Nights in Rodanthe
by Nicholas Sparks

But this weekend wasn't simply about recognizing the mistakes she'd made in the past. It also had to do with the future and how she would live from this point on. Her past was played out; there was nothing she could do about that, but the future was still up for grabs, and she didn't want to live the rest of her life feeling the way she had for the last three years.

---

   You're stronger than you think you are," she went on, "but only if you want to be."
   "It's not that easy."
   "Of course it isn't, but you have to understand that I'm not talking about your emotions. Those you can't control. You're still going to cry, you're still going to have moments when you don't feel you can go on. But you have to act as if you can. At a time like this, actions are just about the only thing you can control."

I found the actual quote (I misworded it the first time I put it on the blog), and since this still runs through my head, let me share it again:

"Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right." --Henry Ford

See? What did I say? "There are good things..." Life is full of amazing surprises.

This time I'm abrupt because I'm speechless.

Today has been, in more than one way, difficult and draining.
BUT
there are good things to consider. I'll talk about them later, I hope, if I can find the time.

So much to say, that I'm aching to say-- but Alas, no time! (capitalization intentional)

Busy busy busy. And DETERMINED. I'm making things the way I want them to be, and I'm choosing to be happy and successful. I don't have to stay in the same old patterns, do I?

Ack. I'm getting carried away. This quote has been running through my mind frequently since I saw it yesterday: "Whether you believe you can do a thing or not, you are right." --Henry Ford

What a fitful night's "sleep" I had last night! I haven't had one of those in many months, not since I first moved out on my own and was worried sick about going to trial and scared to death I was going to lose custody of my kids.

I just hope I don't have too many more nights like last.

I can't get enough compliments. They don't go to my head because the closest I get to accepting them is thinking, "You may genuinely mean that, but you're mistaken." However, I'll admit this: I'm afraid I'm almost starting to believe them.

J: I enjoy chatting with intelligent women that can carry on a conversation without misspelling every other word... lol
J: Unfortunately, y'all are few and far between
J: cute + intelligent, that is
me: Aw, thank you! Yeah, I only misspell every third word. ;-)
J: and a sense of humor, too...my my...
J: In my way of thinking, there's nothing sexier than a beautiful woman with a brain and a mind of her own. That's just me, though.

I don't mean to share this in a sense of arrogance. Far from it. It's more a puzzled, "Can you believe that was said to me?!?"

My previous entry, well, I don't think it was read as I intended. Then again, a person is free to take in sensory info and interpret it how they please, aren't they? Shouldn't art be personal to the viewer? (I don't mean to flatter myself implying my writing is art!)

This morning the first thing I did was stretch and meditate, visualizing how I'm going to live my day. It was calming and empowering at the same time, but I won't say more for risk of sounding too "New Age" and cliche.

Today I've consumed green tea, water, an orange, carrots, whole grain cereal, and potatoes (no junk). Sometimes I do live like a dietitian. Walking around the house in this athletic outfit that probably looked really cute on me when I was in high school (ie, pre-children). You know, really, I survived the first two pregnancies without incident. It was the third that really did me in. But I digress...

Took a good look at my budget today and thought two things: "No WONDER I struggle!" (after seeing my total monthly expenses), and "I NEED TO GET ANOTHER JOB. (Or two.)" I'm going to see if I can go back to what I call my ultra-responsible mode, the one that, for the most part, is who I want to be. Fashioned after my mother (the world's most responsible person), it is what I consider my true self, as it was always a large part of my personality before... Well, it just always was, until.

But ultra-responsible i s n o t f u n. Yes, I very well know fun and responsibility don't have to be mutually exclusive, but Ultra-Responsible spends its time devoted to taking better care of that-which-needs-to-be-taken-care-of, and it's honest enough with itself to realize there's really no money to spare for personal pleasures. I have enough money yearly to stretch a taut skin over the bare bone expenses. I don't mean to sound that I'm whining, I'm just saying that this is what I faced today looking at my finances. No big deal, easily remedied. I can't pare the expenses down any farther (honest) but I can earn more money.

I'm such a sucker for travel (doing so at every opportunity), and such a Sucker for spending my money that way.

You know what? I'm happy. Content. A lovely day and really, a lovely life. It is the life of my choosing, and now and forever future, I get to choose what to do in it. Right HERE in the present is a good place to be.

Disappointment. That may be the label I'm looking for. "Disenchanted" was my previous theme word.

   "All these guys around here... Man, what are you doing with some guy in Texas?!" (--B.)
   "Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night? I thought maybe we could catch a movie. Get a bite to eat." (--C.)
   Well hey, I'm not doing anything tomorrow night. Or tonight. Or any other night.
   Don't rub it in my face. (Maybe a movie wouldn't be so bad.)
   Children screaming-wailing that they're overtired, even though that's not what their words say. Sandpaper against my mood.
   I'm tired of waiting.
   I'm tired of waiting. Is this going to be read? Has its importance to me not yet been noticed (impossible!), or is it not cared? Too busy, I'm sure. Too busy.
   Should I be grateful for what's tossed my way? Is it hideous of me to want better, or hideous of me not to demand so for myself? I never know.
   She's busy with a friend. He will talk to me after the kids quiet down. Scroll through the list. Who else should I call, or should I find another way?
   "Maybe you should move to STL and date me." (--G.) Yeah, maybe I should.
   "...because I would try to spend every free second with you." (--G.) Doesn't that sound nice?
  " (music playing)Here's to the good life, or so they say, all those parties and games that all those people play... Sometimes I feel like something is gone here, something is wrong here, I don't belong here. Sometimes I feel like a stranger in town, and I've lost what I've found..."
   "What's wrong?" Z. asked. Pops out of me: "I just thought things were going to be different."
   I just thought things were going to be different.
   I only thought things were going to be different.
   Is this what I want? The artificial glow of the monitor, bathing my skin like a tanning bed sun, illuminates little. One child asleep and two others by my side, and nothing. Or is that nothing? Party it up, ye of youth, ye of freedom, ye childless and single, or those pretending to be-- party it up! Is this what I want?
   It's my life, right? I can shape it as I please. Maybe if I tweak it just right, make all the right changes...
   I just thought things were going to be different.

I've been putting off adding a new entry until He (who's been offline a few days) got caught up reading my blog. I feel the news I just received warrants a new entry, though. I want "someone to talk to", so let me share this, please.

      "She returned to the empty space that would welcome her home, her car strolling down the sleeping country roads. Neither her mind nor her eyes were on the road. Her vacant attention was easily drawn to the beckoning of the decorative sky. The stars swirled and primped and looked at her coyly, hoping for her admiration. She gave it. But the distant beauty held her attention only long enough to remind her of the distant beauty that had been captivating her thoughts. Her mind was drawn back to him and her heart again mourned the distance keeping them apart. She parked the car, remembering his words.

I promise I will not leave you long. The moon in the sky is the token of this covenant I am making with you. Though the clouds may come to pass, obscuring it momentarily from view, it is as the days that we're apart are temporarily darkened. I, like the eternal moon, will return, and our love will be illuminated once more. I will remember this bond I am placing between us. When the moon rises in the night sky I will look upon it, that I may remember. Look at the moon, darling, and remember.

But there was no moon, the only light overhead being that which hummed from the streetlight."

I left the long put off doctor's appointment this afternoon very sore and light headed, but hey, at least now I've been checked for hypertension, obesity, general illness and infection, STDs, cancer, hyperlipidemia, and diabetes, to name a few. All the results aren't it but the preliminaries look like I'm gonna live another year. (Whew!) (I can't say the words "well woman exam" with out a look of angry disgust crossing my face. I'd never have gone in for one of these willingly.)

Oh, and THREE CHEERS FOR ME! I did it. I stood up for myself. I went back to the optometrist and asked for my contact lens prescription again. They refused (again), repeatedly, although at least this time I got a bit better excuse: by law (I asked- Is this law or just your policy?) it was left to the doctor's discretion whether or not to release contact lens prescriptions, and this doc sure as heck wasn't going to release mine to me. When I had exhausted all logical reasoning, I smiled, said "Okay, thanks," and accepted my defeat.

"...but I do want a copy of my medical records," I added. The worker got all flustered, but she couldn't manage to muster a reason to refuse me. She knows that by law I am entitled to a copy of my own records! She wasn't nice about it and she made me wait a very long time, but I finally walked out of there with a copy of my chart, which of course includes my contact lens prescription. (Now, if only I can decipher it...)

1. Seeing Clifford the Big Red Dog in front of MB's school, greeting the children. This is not only the first occurring highlight of my morning, it's also by far the best. What a cool surprise! (J's second birthday party was a Clifford party, at his request. We like Clifford here.)
2. Feeling like a good nutritionist this morning, and a good mommy too. J had a breakfast of milk, apple, and peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat bread-- that's what he asked for, too.
3. Having a little epiphany
4. Doing the chicken dance with J (along with Dora and Boots on the television show "Dora the Explorer"--our favorite). "Cluck cluck cluck cluck!"

Other good points occurring in the past three hours: Thought provoking conversation with one friend, light hearted fun with another, and a very sweet email received from yet another.

A quote I caught today:

SO rarely do I speak like this. I'm not an assertive type person. But once upon a time, I was upset enough to make the following quote. I've been so proud of it ever since that I saved it. And while at the time I thought it only applicable to its recipient I've since seen, sadly, it could use saying again, but this time to a more general public.

(In response to, "Well, we have different opinions on your feelings. We'll agree to disagree.")
Me: No, you will respect what *I* say about my own damn feelings! I share everything I think with you so honestly and straight from me, straight from my heart, and I get so tired of you discounting it because you think you're so wise that you know what I'm feeling better than I do! Don't flatter yourself so!

(Understand, this isn't a testimony to me. It's a testimony to how disgusting and dull-witted men can be. At least go about your purposes with intelligence and charm!)

Gentlemen of Yahoo Instant Messenger:

Please do not ask me to describe to you what I'm wearing (or what I'm wearing underneath) and do not get huffy if I refuse to tell you.

No, I do not like horny older men. You don't have to ask.

I'm not single.

Yes, I am with someone.

Well, thank you very much for the compliment.

That is not enough money to get me to do what you're asking. No amount of money would be.

I have a boyfriend.

No, I do not cyber. Yes, I'm sure.

Yes, it is sometimes true that "what you don't know can't hurt you," but this does not apply to my boyfriend.

I will not change my mind.

Oh, I'm sure you do, but the answer is still no.

I am not a 1-900 number.

Flattery doesn't get you everywhere, but thanks.

No, I won't leave him, nor will I keep you in mind. I don't maintain a waiting list.

Yes, there are more pics of me in existence than what you see on my profile. I am not sharing any of them with you. Don't beg.

No thanks, I'll pass on seeing your pics. Ditto your webcam.

I have a boyfriend.

Oh yeah, sure, message me anytime!

Okay, truly I am a quote freak. Besides my love of lyrics I gather quotes that touch me in some manner from many sources, primarily books, although it's not so uncommon for me to go as far as I did yesterday: Grabbed the first available scrap of paper and marker and jotted down a quote I found in MB's classroom. Not much of a quote, except that it's true and fits with my definition of friendship.

A friend is one who knows you as you are

And still gently invites you to grow

Had this stuck in my head yesterday, singing it to myself as I worked. I've got it playing on repeat today:

"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone?" --Counting Crows, "Big Yellow Taxi"

[No comment yet about last night.]

Yesterday a group of regulars came into where I work(ed). Last week they had said, "Next week when you get off work you need to have a beer with us!" I didn't take them seriously (they were on pitcher of beer number four at the time) so I gave them a friendly, "Sure!" in reply. But here they were, a week later, and they hadn't forgotten. It was lunchtime.

    "Oh, today's the day we're supposed to have beer together," they said, "but we can't."
    "Oh well. Next week, right?" I said.
     Looks were exchanged amongst them. "Not next week. Next time." On thoughtful afterthought they added "Hopefully."

They were shipping off to Iraq that very evening. I gave them a pitcher of beer on me.

Whether or not I agree with the war, I hold much admiration for soldiers. Perhaps that's blindly patriotic of me, but it's true. How can you not admire things such as loyalty, courage, and fighting for your beliefs? The soldiers of this country since its inception have done things amazing beyond words. Yes, I admire these men.

They left after lunch, and right at five o'clock, to my surprise, they returned. They had already squared away everything that had to be left behind, including the tearful goodbyes to their families, but there had been a delay and so the air force had put them up in a hotel while waiting. Being without their vehicles these men walked/ran two miles to arrive just as I was getting off work-- just to buy me that beer they promised. How extremely flattering!

I let them buy me a drink.

As we sat they taught me a great deal about missiles, bombs, and the Fairchild A-10, answering everything I asked. Their attitude toward shipping out is incredible. Living so near the base all my life, with my parents being employed there and having had so many military friends, I have some idea of what being deployed entails and what it's like "in the desert". Knowing this-- and they know its realities far better than I, being veterans-- I must say again that their attitude is amazing. I do admire them, and the thousands more like them.

Today at MB's "Plant Party" I wasn't the only parent dabbing their eyes as the kids held the flag and said the pledge of allegience; put their hands on their hearts and sang the national anthem; and put their hands in one anothers singing, "I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free..." Now me, I was discreetly wiping under my eyes because I always do that when I see my children perform in such things. Embarrassing as heck, even though no one knows but me. It's just...geez. If some other mother was all boo-hooing at something as simple and goofy as a plant party presentation I'd raise my eyebrows and roll my eyes and think, "For goodness sakes!", and I wouldn't do so kindly. However, I cannot tell you how proud I am of my children. Things like this program today are so beyond-words precious that my heart swells with love, pride, and happiness. Ahh, the best moments in life!

All that said, I had an indisputable right to be proud of MB. Her teacher stopped me at the door as I arrived to tell me enthusiastically that she was amazed at how well MB did memorizing her lines! By the time the teacher at school or I at home had begun to prepare MB for her part she had already memorized the entire thing.

My daughter had the biggest, most difficult part in the program, playing the part of a plant and saying two pages worth of lines like, "Sunlight, my friend! I need to catch some rays. I can't go on without that solar power. It starts my day so I can photosynthesize." She said all her lines confidently, clearly, without hesitation, and with the proper inflection. Heck, for a seven year old, she couldn't have done better. I'm so proud. *sniffle*

Yesterday's horoscope, too strangely fitting both for me and the day:

LIBRA is an "Air" Sign... "Air" symbolizes sociability. You have good people skills. You want your life to be peaceful and pleasant. It wants you to associate with people who relate to you as an equal. You know how it upsets you when you're treated unfairly. You want peaceful, harmonious relationships with everyone in your life. You're most happy when you're enjoying the companionship of pleasant, socially aware people like yourself.

Because you value "peace at any price," you sometimes bend over backwards to avoid a confrontation or an argument. If you allow others to dominate you because you're afraid to stand up to them, your LIBRA self-esteem and self-worth will take a beating.

- Nolan Myers

Life seems to balance out too eerily sometimes to be quickly dismissed, in my opinion.

This, this morning, said to me:
I want to tell you what an amazing person you are. It may sound silly but you really are an inspiration to me, the way you deal with all your problems. I wish I was that strong. I thought you ought to know what an incredible, brave, kind, and all over amazing person you are. You should never let anyone tell you otherwise.

This, this evening, said to me:
Your life isn't hard, you're just whiney. I don't want to hear it and I don't feel sorry for you.

I can't begin to describe how either of these made me feel.

P.S.--All that's been confirmed at work is that I've lost my much-needed, much-loved Fridays. No word on whether I'm going to be left to work Wednesdays. Here's a Wednesday for ya: I worked all day until I exhausted all possibilites of busy work for less than $20. I love the job, but less than minimum wage makes one reconsider.

How blessed are those of us who can relate!

"..every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure..."

Played this one several times at work today, and felt it.

Nights like tonight I want to say, "Just scrap the whole