LONG LIVE ROGER!

you know what fucking sucks?  pancreatic cancer fucking sucks.

you know what fucking sucks?  a kid who kills himself fucking sucks.

you know what fucking sucks?  a friend in a bad place fucking sucks.

this has been a two days of tragedy in my town, in my children's lives, and in my family.

i haven't even told my kids yet that their great uncle that they've been camping with, caught fish with, that they love, has died this morning.  there is too much other trauma all around us with a teenager from our area committing suicide.   and too much worry about a friend.   this all hits close to home too, and old wounds are rubbed raw.

my uncle roger passed this morning from pancreatic cancer and i have to hold it together so they don't fall apart.   being the adult is really really really hard.  but the people in this world with the toughest row to hoe now are carol and her and roger's kids.   roger was a swell guy.   a really swell guy.  having roger absent from their lives will be painful and devastating.  i ache for them.

i think that the unseasonably warm and pleasant weather was ordered up specially for roger.   roger is the quintessential outdoorsy guy-- built beautiful homes for a living, fished, camped, you name it, roger was outside doing it.      typically this time of year it's still cold, snowy, and icy, and everyone is so sick of winter we just can't stand it anymore.  but not this march.  warm temps, warm sun.   roger eked  out as much life as he could the last month while at home with his family and all his friends.  and he spent many days outside.  outside walking the lake or sunning on the deck in the fresh crisp warm air that he loved.

 we went to see rog last weekend and i told the kids 'no sad puppy dog faces', roger wants to laugh and have a good time and enjoy visiting.  and they were chatty and happy and laughy and we had a grand time and i was so incredibly proud of them.  we all joked around and had great last memories with roger.

case in point:   we noticed my awesome grandpa (92 years!) was drinking coffee from a black mug that said "over the hill and off the pill" on it.   and we were yucking it up so hard, unbeknownst to grandpa.  so for one of our pictures, we arranged grandpa in the photo, all of us huddled around roger, and sneakily made sure gramps had his mug turned just so!  lordy lordy lordy, what a vision!

my adorable auntie carol, on the right, is the most real person i know.  she likes a good fart, like me.  she tells it like it is, doesn't pull any punches, and she's a total hoot.  she loves everyone.   i love her very much.  her and roger's marriage is one that i hold in high regard and hope to have as happy of a marriage as roger and carol have had.   as carol would say- happy wife, happy life.   LONG LIVE ROGER!  

unfinished business

my non-exhaustive list of things i never get to...

• dexter - first season.   in my stocking last christmas.   yet to break the seal.   dying to watch it.

• stack of soft covers from my sister.  cracked one or two open in the last half year.   prior to that, only finished two her these borrowed books - Shit My Dad Says (on an airplane trip) and The Glass Castle (page turner).  on deck, a plethora that i never take time to read and should probably just return to my sis:  running with scissors, the secret life of bees, the dragon tattoo series, (these are all book titles that should be underlines but i'm too lazy), my beloved david sedaris, jodi picoult, on and on.  i actually think i have loaned a few out to others, so i better collect before i return.  eek.

• photographs umpteen photographs on my laptop, i mean thousands and thousands of disorganized pictures to sort and group and categorize so i can find one when i want to put one in this freaking blog.   i think of the perfect picture and search for 20 minutes before i give up.  i harrumph away from my laptop in disgust.  then i cut and paste something from the web that is close but doesn't remotely look like me.

• bert's thank you cards for his graduation gifts.  oh my god.  he wrote and got about a fifty sent out last summer.  then he petered out and that project has gathered inches-thick dust on my shelf.   and tonight, my middle child brought his high school graduation announcements home.   i don't see a 'catching up' in my future. 

• putting this miracle gel that my mom gave me on my double chin that is supposed to tighten it up.  this one is a stunner - have no idea what the hell i'm waiting for on this one.    

• the not-so-urgent pile of mail in the red folder.  the urgent bundle i go through bimonthly (yes this is my special recipe for bill paying tardiness).   the red folder is pretty much folder garbage.   if i could throw things away, everything in the red folder would be trashed.  but since i can't, i maintain the red folder of months, years old stuff that i kid myself that someday i'll go through it and get that stuff done.

• a nightstand drawer which doubles as a cord cemetery.   chock full of cords, old mp3 players, garbage phones and cameras, more cords, earphones, a bunch of electronic crap that doesn't work and that i don't need.   i should clean it out someday to make room for my unread heap of books.   if those books were in my nightstand drawer, i may actually crack one open.   thus i would have a reason not to return them to my sister yet since i'm at least 3 short.  

,

flowers, nah. jewelry, nope.

i've never read a book written specifically to help women understand men better, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that women and men have fundamental differences.   when one has a basic understanding of the differences and accepts them as fact, then everyone has a chance to be happy and satisfied.

on the advice of one of my kid's therapists, a few years back i read an internet synopsis of The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman.  no time to read the whole book.   i was too busy figuring out how to get my wild child to clean up the rotting jack-o-lantern he just threw at the door.

  there were a total of two books i read cover to cover out of the 17 books (yes i counted) that were suggested to me and/or given to me during the first two years of extreme parenting.   i chose the two shortest books out of the bunch.   both were extremely valuable, helping us immensely in our parenting.   these were the winners of my precious time.

i certainly was drawn to both books by the catchy titles and for sure the picture on the nancy's book spoke right to me.  that bloody knife was in our future i was sure of it.  time was of the essence.  in paperback, each was only 101 and 111 pages respectively, ding ding ding we have a winner!

i would get pissed every time another do-gooder with straight A child would suggest a book to me.   you think i have time to read??    i was wasting away because i didn't have the time or the energy to eat.  much less read.   get that book out of my face, and take one of my kids for an hour to give me a break.   let your well behaved smarty pants play with my nutjob and let osmosis do it's work.  

 so, while i didn't read The Five Love Languages, i learned all i needed to know from skimming a short description about each love language from the internets.    http://www.5lovelanguages.com/learn-the-languages/the-five-love-languages/   i could easily identify which love language one each of my children spoke.   this knowledge worked like a charm to bring me closer to each of my kids and develop our attachments.  that therapist was a genius.

i didn't give a thought back then to al's love language.   putting kids first causes havoc on a marriage.   our kids were all consuming and there was no time to focus on our relationship.   nearly all of our conversations revolved around one or all of the children.  constant parenting sessions at the expense of  make out sessions.

we scraped by on one weekend per month together, by way of respite.   for two years, we spent respite almost the same way every month.    al and i propped our eyes open with toothpicks to spend one evening together.   the other day was spent doing our own thing with friends or just sleeping, until we had to gear up to pick them back up on sunday afternoon.   some sundays it was really fucking hard to get into that car, turn the ignition key, and steer north.  

but i digress.

 i'm wondering if alan got his hands on this book.   or simply if his intuition has pointed him in the right direction to more frequent relations.  whatever the case, we are both happier and satisfied.   my man has always been down for sexytimes pretty much any time.   let's just say i don't match his 'drop of a hat' style.

i need to be greased with a generous helping of 'acts of service' with a side of 'physical touch', to put a Love Language fine point on it.   i speak the these two love languages fluently.   it appears al has ordered up some rosetta stone to hone his wife's love language skills.  

for the past month, i get up and drag myself into the shower.  when i come back to the bedroom to get dressed, the bed is made.  THE BED IS MADE.  smoothly.  no bulgy bunching of sheet underneath.  the comforter corners match on the ends.  it is a work of art al has given to me, but it really is an 'act of service' he has done for me.    ding ding ding, winner winner chicken dinner!

 i usually sit down on the bed for a spell and check my facebook, or send soupkoolers a crushing blow in words with friends.  then i get dressed.  a made bed starts my day off with peace and organization and harmony.   exactly what i need at the start of the day.   i didn't even know this was something i longed for until i saw it the first time.  

some girls want diamonds.  for me, just make the bed and i'll jump at the chance to mess it up with you later.  

threats should be full

you know what i get really excited about?    this:   kid is a total shit in the grocery store.   crying, whining, screaming, begging.    mom says "if you do that one more time we are leaving this store and going home".     kid whines again.    mom scoops kid out of the shopping cart, walks away from cart full of groceries, and heads out the door with a stunned kid in tow.

guess how many times i've been excited?  once.  and i go grocery shopping a lot.   and i've been to walmart plenty.  walmart is the breeding ground for unruly children and empty-threat parents.

the one time i saw the mom follow through on her going home threat, i wanted to jump up on the conveyor belt, throw my hands in the air, and shout to her "well done mama!  a few more times of that and you won't have to deal with whining at the store anymore!"  at all.  no more.  seriously.  

every time i follow through on a consequence for my child, it hurts me in some way.  the usual way it sucks for me is that when my kid has no privileges, that means i am pretty much grounded too.   but thems the breaks.  i'm the parent.  so, parent, parents.

kids are super smart.  even the dumb ones.    they try it all.   they ask me for something in front of a stranger or grandma or auntie carol thinking that i couldn't possibly say no in front of them.   what do i care?   oooooooh my aunt will think i'm a strict parent who doesn't budge.  rather be that than a parent with a whiny kid.

shorty shortelson tonight folks.   and a little preachy.  or a lot.   probably was too tired to write wittily tonight, but couldn't get this idea out of my head after running into one to many noodley parents that were pushed around by their kids.  

al just walked in.   he asked me:  "are you hotboxing it in here?"   i didn't know what he meant.  until he started spraying air freshener all over the room and doing the sort of laughy smile where he's trying hard to show me i'm still cute but he's really grossed out.  i didn't even realize i was farting.   and now we all know the term hotboxing.  

if you give a pig a pancake

for the first time since january 1, i had the time to exercise, but instead opted to remain at my restricted calories for the night.   as i lose each pound, the total amount of calories i consume each week lowers by 5-10.   because i've lost 14 pounds, i'm now at 1265 calories allowed each day.

unless i exercise.  then i can eat back those calories burned.  i love to eat.  i love to eat!  so i exercise 5-6 days per week.  rarely am i hungry and not able to satisfy that hunger with food.  i burn up so many calories, there are usually some left at the end of the day.

at 7pm tonight, i had the all clear to go to snap fitness.  i had an hour.  i only need 45 minutes to burn 450 calories on the elliptical.   i set it at level 10 and the sweat drips off me.   that gets me ample chips and guacamole while i'm watching 'the bachelor' finale.   throw in an apple dipped in chunky peanut butter and i'm in heaven.   i'm willing to do 20 minutes of kickboxing for 4 caramels.    i love to eat.

i came in the bedroom to change into workout clothes.    i see my brand new ipod.   just bought it yesterday.   freshly loaded with songs.   i decide to make a fast paced song playlist to really get my body pumping on the elliptical.  i start flipping through songs reliving the glory days when each was my fave.  i notice an orange and blue banner in my periphery and so i sit at my laptop to catch up on reality steve.

this is playing out like a laura numeroff children's book, but she'd title mine  if you give a girl a chicken bacon ranch salad.  that salad was the ultimate factor for my decision to stay home and be satisfied with my remaining 149 calories for the night.  i made that salad for supper and every bite was divine.   when the big silver bowl was empty, i felt super satiated and could not have imagined a better meal.   oh so tasty.

rookie mistake.   yes, i was fabulously full and feeling eater's high.   i mistakenly thought that feeling could carry me through sitting for two hours watching ben pick courtney.  of course it didn't.   that salad was long forgotten when hunger pangs came midway through the show.    so i used most of my 149 calories on precious four caramel squares.  quite possibly the best food ever invented.

i have enough calories left for 2 certs.  2 piddly certs.

i learned my lesson.  2 certs does not a robust snack make.  

have really good breath when going to bed

dead mom walking

with just 6 months of pure parenting hell on earth under our belts, right before we nearly fell apart, al and i regrouped.   and figured some shit out.  figured some major shit out.   no, not how to legally put locks on the outside of their bedroom doors, we lost that battle with the social workers.   no, not how to clone ourselves so we could at least match them in number.   and finally, no, not how to render them mute with a remote control.  

but, al and i were always talking about ideas to gain control and their trust.  we'd try the ideas, watch them falter then fail, then come up with new ideas.    we were nothing if not persistent.    

chaos ensued those first six months while we got our bearings.    then, suddenly,  al had a brainchild that ended up being one of our key parenting game changers.  

back in 2004, i vividly remember sulking home from work one day, walking slowly to draw it out as much as possible.   if my neighbors wouldn't have come out worried about me, i'd have crawled.   or just lay there on the sidewalk.   those were my few minutes per day without demands.  those few glorious minutes.

 from the second i woke up, my kids and family craziness were going strong.  then i walked 2 blocks to work.  that was two minutes of peace and quiet.   once at work, preschoolers needed my attention and work politic demands were constant.  stress upon stress.  then i walked 2 blocks back home.  

 dead mom walking.

but after eking out as many seconds as i could on my way home that day, al met me in the driveway.   what the fuck?   was he trying to escape?   busted.   what was he doing out of the house?  where were the kids?   for the first year plus, we could never leave the kids without supervision by one of us, preferably both of us, strength in numbers.   i question, al tells me how he has has each of them in different locations in the house, occupied for at least 10 minutes.

i fall into his arms with gratefulness and awe.  we go into the bathroom and shut the door.  he presents me with a chicken scratched piece of lined paper and pitched his idea.  

here's what it said:

"i pledge allegiance to my family, may we always remain united.  we are all unique, but our differences make us stronger.  i vow to love myself and allow myself to be loved.   i promise to love, honor, and respect my family at all times."

we implemented immediately.  we set up a competition among the kids.  who can memorize the pledge first?   i was shocked that it only took a few days before each of them had it down pat.   one of our kids carried his filled backpack around all day long at school because he couldn't memorize his three digit locker combination.  go figure.

 we were amazed and pleased with  their eagerness.   they bought into the pledge hook, line, and sinker.  they were eager because they craved family and they craved love, but they fought tooth and nail against both ideals.   they just didn't feel they deserved either.

with creation of the pledge and the requirement that we all say it in unison every single day before every meal, al had discovered a way for these ideals to be implanted in their minds painlessly.  it was painful for the kids to accept our love.  but they weren't savvy enough to see that reciting the pledge was a means for allowing our love in.   it was pure genius!   we didn't have to cajole them into saying it, it just wasn't a hassle.  

we all said that pledge every day for years.  what a boon for our family.

i don't know when we stopped saying the pledge.   maybe when bert had his accident.  can't say for sure.  but on thursday, at supper, bert started saying it, but couldn't recall all of it.   it took all of us putting our heads together to remember all the words, but we got it.  then in unison, we said the pledge again.   roni quickly suggested we start saying it again every day.  we all happily agreed.

 i said "i think i have my blog topic" and bert replied "i better get the credit for bringing the pledge back."

credit bert for this blog idea

thermostat temp by-laws at the legion

this is a good group of people.   i'm at the american legion.  a healthy slice of americana.   my oldest son bert likes to play poker.  he doesn't have a license, so i'm the driver tonight.    al usually comes with him because al is always up for a poker game too.   but al's dancing the night away at a trampled by turtles show tonight, so i'm at the wheel.   bert's mostly independent aside from needing the ride, so i brought my unread people magazines and my laptop.

i'm four weeks behind so i haven't a clue how in the world kate's doing while william's away.  i'm in the dark about the dream wedding of elizabeth smart and have only some nondescript twitter knowledge of linsanity.  i leafed through the mail stack today and was confused to see risky business tom cruise on the cover.  after reading the caption, i realize somehow davy jones has escaped me through the years so i'll take a crash course with His Life in Pictures.  i knew he passed away, just couldn't have picked him out in a line up.

this friday night group of 50-somethings keeps it at a dull roar here at the legion.  they poke a little fun, banter at the table, but mostly they just play cards and shout things like "pot's good" and  "turn and burn" which makes me crack up as i wipe the sweat from the space between my nose and upper lip.   maintaining an 80 degree temp is the norm at the legion.  knowing that, i did layer up tonight, but still, i am cooking.   turn down the heat barkeep!

it's all good in the legion, except for the old hag that cackled sharply and deafeningly when i spilled water on the bar while i was pouring ice water from the pitcher into the plastic dixie cup.

i had gone up to the bar.  the kindly peanut-eating 75-year-old bartender with the short bouffant and dangly, red-carpet-ready, gold earrings took my order.  miller lite.  i didn't order my ushe corona with double lime because i figured they might not have either at the legion.  i didn't want to seem hoity toity, or ungracious, or call attention to myself with a scene of 'we don't have that HERE missy'.    miller lite's my old standby when i want to lay low at the legion.

look to my left, hot diggity dog, there's a fat pitcher of ice water at the bar next to two tall towers of plastic cups.   this makes me giddy as now i don't have to keep asking granny for more water, another cup, just one more water please, all night long to assuage dehydration in this blasted heat.

i haven't gotten my sweatshirt off yet, so i feel a bead of sweat starting down my forehead.   i can't get one of those cups in my fingers fast enough and when i start to pour, the flimsy little 6 ounce cup topples over and i spill the water.

enter the old bitty perched at the corner of the bar:  "ahhcacklecackleahahahhhhhaa"!   at least 10 sets of eyes darted my way, dashing my hopes of anonymity.   noisy nelly did hand me a napkin, so she wasn't all evil.

spend 6 hours at the legion, drink one beer

triumphs, sweet triumphs

12/14/05
 
 it's 7 am and i'm up and writing. usually at this time i'm up and rounding up my children with a rousing "time for breakfast". here at our household we eat breakfast at the table at 7am. al or i cook some eggs for roni and wim- "one dipping egg please". usually bert chooses one egg but he likes his egg over hard between 2 pieces of bread/not toasted. he also chooses a bowl of cereal on occasion.   i eat one of the following, i like to change it up-yogurt, peanut butter toast, cereal, or eggs, in case you were wondering. al likes eggs too.

 i really enjoy cooking eggs. we have a large griddle that can fit about 8 eggs and i have become a master at the flip. hardly break an egg yolk anymore. so today instead of flipping eggs i'm writing as our school has a 2 hour late start today due to the snow. too awake to go back to sleep. have to be there at 9:30 am so i've got an hour to kill. wim's watching senseless cartoons, he's an early riser. was up and in the shower before 6am. i rustled bert out of a deep sleep to get started on his homework. he got home at 10:40pm from his wrestling matches. his record thus far is 7 wins 6 losses. he's doing very well and he feels really comfortable on the team and with his coaches.

wrestling meets are borrrrr-ing! i went the other day and it started at 4:30 and we left at 7:30pm and he wrestled 3 matches (which was a total of about 7 minutes of bert actually wrestling- which was thoroughly exciting and i guess worth sitting through the other 180 minutes).    i know some of the other kids on the team so i could watch them, but i certainly don't care about watching 2 kids wrestling from other schools. my butt was sore and i was bored out of my gourd. luckily wim and roni made some friends to play with so they were occupied. there's one cool mom i've met that i chatted with for awhile. but i kept thinking of all the things i could be doing- christmas shopping, napping, writing an update.

 so anyway bert's up writing definitions for vocabulary words for history class-- trying to bullshit us about this assignment being turned in already, that the teacher made a mistake on the homework sheet and it really isn't due, this worksheet isn't due til the day of the test. bullshit bullshit bullshit. we can see through all of it now. we know him better. he's nearing shut-down mode, when he just harrumphs his head down on the table and laments loudly "i don't know how to do it!"

while not feeding into his sad attempt at getting OUT of doing the work, we gently (and i do TRY very hard to keep the annoyance out of my voice, although many times i am not successful) encourage him to keep working at it. give him a little tickle here a little tickle there to get him back on track with mood, then he soldiers on with the assignment. what it would take another kid, 30 minutes to complete, takes bert an hour and a half to complete with loads of handling from us to get it done.

 oh-- i just heard it "i don't know what i have to do!!" shrieks bert. al's there working with him. oh no.  al just said with some exasperation, "well what's the assignment then?" which is really a kiss of death question because bert's practically pre-wired to lie.

 "are you trying to be difficult?" says al next. al is persistent. and al finally gets bert back on track. bert works for a few minutes looking up a word- "assess isn't in here dad"

al-"What? they took assess out of the dictionary? well i'm gonna have to assess the situation here. where's the number for webster's??" al's so funny and good at using comic relief to distract them from their crappy ways.

new topic--

just heard from wim "dad my arm hurts"

al-"remember i told you it's a bruise and you just have to wait til it goes away" we could tell him that 100 times a day and he'll still say "my arm hurts" like there's something we can do about it.

well- life is good here. it's a daily struggle to parent our kids and be a parent, but our lives have
changed so drastically and significantly for the better in the last 6 months that there are rewards
now. simple, small, gigantic, complex changes for the better.

 the other day roni walked up to me at school while i was talking to another teacher and she did not
interrupt. she waited minutes until i was done talking. she considered another person's needs
before her own. triumph!

yesterday at bball practice, wim's task was to get his coaches last name and phone number and find out when the next game is. he got all the info requested (triumph! and highly unusually responsible behavior) PLUS went one further and asked his coach for a ride to the game on saturday in case we couldn't go (double triumph!, took care of his own need without acting helpless).

one morning when i came out of the bathroom from getting ready  bert was sitting on the couch reading a book (a normally acceptable and encouraged activity, however the kids have to do their chores and take their supplements first thing when they wake up).   i asked him if he had done his morning things and he answered honestly that he hadn't done them with no excuses or arguments. (triumph!)

i added one unpaid chore to his list as is the usual consequence for not following a rule- so he was grumpy and harrumphed around doing his chores for 10 minutes but before i left for work he found me and gave me a big hug and said he was sorry for not doing what he was supposed to do and changed his snotty little attitude into a happy one in less than 10 minutes without any immediate intervention!   (what a triumph!!)

the other day wim  and i were playing scrabble on the computer and i was winning and he handled it with the grace of a regular 12 year old boy when his mom beats him at a game, asked me for another turn to try to win, asked me for a rematch, made up a stupid reason that he lost-he had hit the submit key too soo.     but he DID NOT call me a cheater or pretend that i did not win or get pissed or try to quit before the game was over (the usual happenings in this situation- yeah he's a blast to play games  with (dripping with sarcasm)  but maybe he is becoming someone fun to play with!?!?!) (triumph!!)

 al is a treasure. he teaches me about parenting by being a good model. he's amazing with our kids and has the patience of someone not living in our home!!    i don't know how he does it, but i know why he does it.    he does it all for me.   i admire and  appreciate him so much.

mcribs

9/29/05
 
 it's been a long time since i wrote, but i only have 7 minutes before my next preschoolers come in for speech therapy so this will be quick! this is my best guess of what i was doing right now exactly one year ago-- sitting at my desk, with dark circles under my eyes, 10 pounds lighter than the month before, trying to choke down my mcrib school lunch but not being remotely hungry, stressed out to the max with thoughts about what happened in our home the night before and what we can do to prevent it from happening tonight, on the phone with al trying to make a plan for that, and then receiving a phone call from one of my kid's teachers about the big problem that happened at school this morning and scheduling a meeting to come to talk with the principal about it, maybe add in a few tears shed and that is pretty close to how most  days went one year ago.

 today, i'm sitting here with my mcrib school lunch hungrily scarfing it down, with bright eyes from a full long night's sleep (was in bed and asleep by 10 pm last night), thinking about how smoothly last night's homework time went, how relatively pleasant our get up and start the day morning routine was, and now i'm spending 7 minutes of breaktime actually taking a break and writing to all of you about what a difference a year makes!!!!



11/11/05
 
there has to be some sort of nomination i can make for dad of the year for al. i'll make it right here and now... al is hereby voted dad of the year by his loving wife greta. he has incredible patience and insight for parenting our children. last year was the year of wim, this year is shaking out to be the year of roni. of course it's related to years of trauma and instability which has caused her to completely have no trust in anyone but herself (imagine that - as a 9-year-old girl - and i dare you to not start  to cry). i understand the psychology and i can discuss attachment disorder like a professional, and i will unconditionally love and care for roni for the rest of my life, but that doesn't change the fact that- plain and simple- roni is a bitch.

she could push the 2nd best parent in the world to a want to drop roni off somewhere in the middle of the night 50 miles out of nowhere, without a flashlight, and not care if she could find her way back home.

but she can not do it to the first best parent in the world- al.   al may have had a fleeting thought of doing it, but instead this is what he did last night, with our flailing, screaming, agitated almost to the point of no return, daughter. while i tucked in our boys (which is a 60-minute process and we are sure is one of the golden keys to our success in parenting this motley crew of kids we've decided to parent, i will touch on our tuck-ins in another posting some day) al had the angry-at-the-world roni bundle up, get her shoes on, and go with him in the honda.

drove her out 10 miles to a spot on the luce line, a beautiful trail going through our town. he walked with her on that trail for a few miles, for over an hour.   talking with her about - i don't even know many details. i do know that she decided in the end to disclose to him that she does not trust us.

then they got down on their knees face-to-face, in mostly darkness, dimly lit only by a farmer's combine's lights off in the distance, and roni sincerely (which is very hard to come by when roni's involved) pledged to al to be his daughter forever. he pledged to roni that he would forever be her dad. as they walked back to the honda (another mile) with her fists she threw her past into the ditch over and over again, verbalizing what she was doing.

when the two of them walked in the house i was standing in the kitchen. roni walked in first. her face was a face i have never seen before in 15 months of knowing her. she looked genuinely happy.

i said "you're smiling."   she said with utter sincerity and while looking right into my eyes (which is also a rarity) "i'm ready to become a member of this family. i am going to try really hard to honor, love, and respect my mom and my dad and my brothers too. i threw away the bad stuff from my past into the ditch."

 i said "welcome to the family." the 3 of us spent the next hour talking, hugging, looking at the newspaper, and eating chicken noodle soup. she sat on my lap with her legs wrapped around my waist and hugged me, for the first time, because she usually also sort of physically pushes herself away from me at the same time while hugging me, she was really just hugging me.

 then al took her up to bed to get her tucked under the covers. when al woke her up this morning, the first thing she said to him was "i threw away my past last night dad. even if i don't have privileges right now i can still have a happy attitude".

it is such a real change in her for the first time. al helped her to experience one night of real trust in another person. i could see it in her face, she was relieved of the burden of only trusting herself. it might only last a few days, or just today even. we know she will revert back to being the untrusting, lying, manipulating, hurtful bitch our family knows and loves. al and i aren't delusional- we know it may take many many many years before she truly trusts us consistently, before she really believes we won't let her down. but she got to feel it for a night. and we will get her to feel it again another day. and then she'll catch trust fever, and then it will be the year of bert i suppose. i don't know who will be next. i just hope the keep taking turns.

the hugs were stick stiff and constant

another oldie but a goodie.   excerpt from a blog i wrote to friends back in 2005 about the joys and perils of extreme parenting.  we had been parenting for one year when i wrote this.   one year our kids had lived with us.  and we finally all did something together that was moderately enjoyable.


8/23/05
am going to play disc golf in recreational league tonight, for the first time. one of my sons and al have been trying to get me to play in a disc golf tournament for awhile now. will take the plunge tonight. i like to play for fun but not competitively. well i've never played competitively so i guess i don't know if i like it or not. maybe i can find fun in competitive play. we'll see.

we'll see. that's another of my mantras. can i go over to sophie's house? we'll see. can i have ice cream for dessert? we'll see. can we go to the beach today? we'll see. i've learned through lots and lots of trial and error to never commit to much unless i know for sure it will happen- things get sooooooo far from how i hoped they'd happen sometimes, that there is rarely a "for sure" in parenting. thus, we'll see.

 vague is where it's at for my kids. i haven't heard "but you always say we'll see mom!!!!" yet so either they haven't caught on or they are comfortable with my approach. we also rarely tell them about what's happening/activities until that morning of the day they will happen. again, learned this through trial and error. when we used to tell them about things in advance, invariably one or more of them would get anxious about the event/activity and screw it up royally for themselves and/or everyone else in the family.

too many times it meant al would have to stay home with the ruiner, while i would go with the others to the activity. and for me, most of the fun lies in being with al, so we had to change our tactic. even if it was something they all love like going to camp snoopy- plots would be hatched to screw up the good times. weird huh?!

we've got some of the psychology of these kids figured out with lots more still to figure out. we spend lots of time distracting distracting distracting. keeping them busy with conversation, jokes, chores, activities, errands, puns, hugs and kisses, doing crazy silly things, etc. so they don't have time to hatch plans for destruction. that's where the exaustion comes into play for us.

but, if we let up, we'll even be more exausted because then we'll have to be reactive to tantrums and acting out, which is not a good position to be in when you're parenting. when i get into that position my chest gets tight and i have to fake cough a few times in front of my kid to cover the tension and anger and frustration i'm feeling and to give me some stall time to catch my breath and become calm. so anyway, i'm playing disc golf tonight. maybe a tournament in september. we'll see.


8/27/05
 well, i had lots of fun disc golfing in league!! i was on a card with 3 others- al and 2 other guys. lucky me to get with al, because we spent about 2 -uninterrupted by kids- hours being together which hasn't happened in a LOOOOONG time. also lucky al, as i might have been a good luck charm for him since he won his first ever league that night!!!!!!!

i got 32 over, which is a terrible score by anyone's standards, majorly screwed up a few holes - got 6's and 7's- but did get a few 3's (par) too. i could have shot all 7s and i still would have had a great time because it was glorious to be able to start and finish that activity while my boys played on a different card- several baskets away from where we started, only passed them once on the course the whole night, and a pleasant "how are you shooting? oh good score!" was exchanged.

 but then we kept on playing the course. there wasn't the usual complaining "bert's cheating". no "my (fill in any body part) hurts mom"-in the whiniest voice imaginable. no arguing, no tattling. no running to me like a chicken with head cut off for a hug.  christ why do you need a hug every 5 minutes at 12 years old!!

amazing!!!!! what a great night. after one full year with our kids, with all the time and effort it takes to parent- we are seeing good results. our kids are healing and they are starting to treat each other as caring siblings.  tiny little startings of this.    we are having "a great night" here and there. so it didn't matter my score- i felt like a champion just because i could do it and have fun and not get pulled away by my kids for whatever reason. yeah!

tales from the crypt. just glad i wasn't in it.

following is an excerpt from a blog i wrote a long time ago.  i only blogged publicly a handful of times when we first adopted our kids.  it was some scary-ass shit that was happening in our family those first couple years.   i would put big money down that not many people could have survived the extreme freaking parenting we had to do.   pots and pans dangling off a child's bedroom door so we would be alerted if said child was opening the door during the night to sneak around to do god knows what, or whatever he had promised to do when angry earlier.    i pictured myself in a pool of blood many times.   i seriously shudder when i think back on those days.   

but we got through it.   what a long strange road it's been.   and our kids are changed people.    and so am i.   i am going to repost two of my entries here tonight.

AFTER BEING A MOTHER FOR EXACTLY ONE YEAR:

8/18/05
just got off the phone with my 13 year old son and he was chewing so loudly on crackers while i talked i asked him to please stop chewing while i talked and then i felt really old and motherly.

at my daughter's 9th birthday slumber party we were eating lucky charms for breakfast. i mentioned that lucky charms were my favorite when i was a kid and one of her friends looked at me and said, and she was just curious and serious, "they had lucky charms when you were a kid?" once again, feeling quite old.

 that's ok. i'm 31. i feel like a healthy 31-year-old. i have to pass sometimes on the clothes i really like to wear, because many are figure-hugging which accentuates my breasts, and lately my 13 and 12-year-old sons seem to be really interested in staring at them. one of them asked me the other day "are your boobs big or not so big?"    i said "they are about medium-sized."   and then wondered if that was the right answer.    i remember when i was a kid, wishing my mom would not wear halter tops and tight jeans, and now as a mom i understand her perspective and have the same perspective- i'll wear what i like thank you very much, but still i will try not to embarrass you too badly.

8/21/05
 i love summer. never have i had a harder year that the one that will pass on august 25 and never have i loved a summer more than this one. no homework to help with. much less time pressures and rigid schedule to adhere to to get all the essentials done in a few short hours after school... and hopefully we get a little closeness time fit in their somewhere during the school year, not just mom doing all the required parenting that isn't as fun.

it is so easy to have close time, quality time, mom time, whatever i call it, in the summer. time when i'm NOT supervising them doing a chore, enforcing consequences for rules that were broken, getting housework done, cooking supper (we did lots of grab and go this summer-everybody make your own sammie and yes you can have one serving of chips), checking to see if chores were completed to my inspection, enduring the occasional mild (usually) tantrum of slightly flailing arms and whiny voice when a child has to redo part of the chore til it's done correctly but then says the required "okay mom" and gets to work (sometimes with the ones that can handle joking around more successfully i tell them i'd gladly do their chore if they will do mine- then i list off the chores i'm getting done that day and they comply with their assigned chore). etc. etc.

 i don't know what they're complaining about anyway- lots of kids have to do chores: painting the house, washing the top row of windows, shampooing the carpet, getting the garden going, detailing the honda. waaa, waaa, waaaa.

ha! not really those chores of course. but when you are part of a family you are part of keeping the family running smoothly as possible. i don't produce all of the garbage in the cans, so i'm certainly not going to be the one to take it out when there are able-bodied kids that can do the job.   hey you don't produce any garbage, feel free to tell me off when i tell you to take it out. you produce garbage- you say "okay mom".

it took us about 10 months before we got them to understand that basic principle, and complete regular daily chores with kid-quality cleaning with minimal grumbling. it's a triumph for al and me!

i have 4 loads of clean laundry to sort and fold and get into their cubbies so my little cuties can get it into their dressers and closets. i'm happy to wash it when you throw it down the laundry chute, i'm such an awesome mom i'll even dry it and sort it into your cubby, but it's your job to get it into the proper holding spot until you wear it. and alan and i refuse to match socks. they all just go into a pile (clean) and the kids have to sort their own.

 which means roni's always wearing mismatched socks because she doesn't want to take the time to find 2 that look the same. one sock could even be resting right next to its match on the table but she'll still just grab whatever. what do i care? she'll get teased one day at school and then will maybe want to take the time. logical consequences for choices made. doesn't make no nevermind to me if she's mismatched.

that's one of my mantras "i'm such an awesome mom...i'm teaching you to live safely and peacefully in a loving family"   "you're lucky to have me, such an awesome mom that will do...".

so if you've got my kids in your care, remember to throw in a few "wow you are so lucky to have such an awesome mom!" "some moms won't take the time to teach their kid that or make their kids do blankety-blank and yours does, what an awesome mom you have!" to keep the ball rolling for me. thanks in advance.

selfish = happy, selfless = a shell, balance is where it's at

you know, i really needed my own thing.   i didn't really have it.  i pretended i had my own thing, and it was even 100% writing related, in fact, that makes it, writing.  for three and a half years i wrote a daily journal about my oldest son and his recovery from severe brain injury on his caringbridge website.  i loved writing it, still will occasionally, it was my therapy for years.

for three years i couldn't bare to go to sleep without journaling the events that transpired that day for bert.   i had endless fodder for my entries.  i would sit at the computer and immediately start writing and never stop for an hour or more.  i never had to think about a thing.  it all came pouring out of me, never fail.   but it wasn't MY thing.  it was bert's life i was writing about.  i could yuk it up and make people cry or convey any emotion, but it was always about bert, or how i related to bert.   was still yearning for my own thing, and the time to devote to it.

good lord i've been using the word "fodder" incorrectly all these years.  are you kidding me?   it doesn't mean 'topics'?  it doesn't refer to 'things to discuss'?    that's what i thought it meant!  that's how i've been using fodder.   that's how i just used it in the preceding paragraph.    but i just thesaurus.commed fodder and it is food.   even in the Concept Thesaurus i could find nothing that remotely relates to the way i've been using fodder.  no one corrected me, ever.   people!    if i misuse a word, i want to know.  if i have a booger in my nose that you can see, tell me.  spinach in my tooth, point to your tooth over and over again nonchalantly until i get the drift.  tag sticking out, tuck it in.   throw me a bone.

al has his thing.  he loves disc golf.   in the love department, i do come first, but disc golf is a very close second.   any chance he gets when he's not with the kids, and he 'clears the date' with me, he grabs his bag and he's out the door in two seconds.  gladly runs a course if he has less than an hour.  

getting the date cleared on me is annoying.   'so uh, any plans today?'  is al's code for 'will there be a free two hours for me to go play?'  so just say that's what you want to do!  

he's always said to me, i want you to have something you love and are passionate about, like disc golf for me.  and i'd always reply, i like to sit.  sit and write.  sit and research.  sit and read.  be sequestered in my room with my people  magazine, my laptop, my cell phone, and i'm happy.   deluded myself into thinking that caringbridge was my thing.  that facebook was my thing.   but i get it now, that's not a thing.  

and i refuse to have my thing be being a mother or be related solely to my children.   that's also not a thing.    i mother, but i don't define myself by my motherhood.  i don't comply when i see a facebook photo titled "click share if you would do anything for your kids".   parenting is going to be the most challenging thing i'll do in my life, and possibly the most worthwhile, but it's not my passion.   it's not how i want to spend my free time.  it's not a key to helping me feel like a whole, alive person.  being patient and kind when my child is doing everything s/he can to get me to do the opposite is not a freaking passion.  it's a life sentence some days.  i do my best at mothering and i love my kids, but good gravy, i need my thing to take me away from all that.  for a spell.  so i can be patient and kind.

what i want to avoid is to be talking on and on about inconsequential things as if they are important. this is the quintessential sign of not having 'a thing'.   i don't want to have insignificant things be my bread and butter.  case in point:  this week our garbage company switched.  we had waste management and now we have randy's.  there were a few letters explaining the details of the switch over.  there was a drop off of new dumpsters.  pick up of old dumpsters.  weekday of pick up changed.  no biggie right?   sure, i took it all in stride.

but a mom talked to me at length this week about garbage.  how the day change will alter her routine.  the difficulties it will make in her life.  the cost comparisons.  the people that are now picking up the trash.  recycling is now every week.   at least the size of the dumpsters is the same.  on and on and on.  at length.  i'd rather have pulled each of my eyeballs out with pliers one at a time than listen to her prattle.  

and if i could ever end someone's fucking conversation, i would do just that.   but i have some ridiculous gene that doesn't allow me to be mean to someone's face.    it forces me to be engaged and interested constantly and even ask probing questions to further the inane monologue.

excerpt from this riveting conversation:

me:  "ya, i got two notifications."
her: "i only got one letter.  what did your letter say?  what am i missing?!"
me:  "uh, that the pick up day will be on friday now"
her:  "friday!  i'm going to have to .... can i see a copy of your letter ...  how am i ever going to ...  this is a nightmare."
me:  "i could scan to a pdf and email it to you"  KNOCK IT OFF.  JUST TELL HER SHE'S STUPID AND BORING.

 i'm not even able to fashion a disinterested looking face as a veiled attempt to get out of it.   maybe there is a small chance that being direct about my complete lack of enthusiasm for the topic is not going to make someone feel bad, but i doubt it.    it's a curse.    i am getting more abrupt and assertive with age, though, so there is bitchy light at the end of this kindness tunnel.  

this is what i'm talking about.  she needs a thing to occupy her mind so she doesn't focus on garbage.

i'm on my way.  well on my way to finding my thing.   i like where this is headed.  

put the bins out on friday