beemajabee

Robert Kaufmann Charm Pack Challenge ("Epic Fail")

2011-05-08T13:02:00.000-04:00

I started out very motivated but it went quickly downhill from there. The charms kept arranging themselves into two color groups that were not going to be combined. After making nine-patches, then disappearing nine-patches, then disappearing disappearing nine-patches I had successfully butchered the fabric to bits that I was NOT going to run through my machine one more time. So here is what I vaguely call a 'flower garden'. I will not sew it down; it has already been 'forwarded' to the fabric donation bag... See the blossoms are the one color group, the stems are the other group. RIP charm pack! I guess they don't call it a challenge for nothing!

first time campers

2011-04-22T12:22:00.000-04:00

In the beginning of the week, we (my kids and I) went camping with three other families. It was our first camping trip ever. I think about how apprehensive I get when people just can't believe it was the first time. Then I work through it, let it go and this is what I explain to myself: "The camping enforcement police was cutting us some slack due to the heart transplant in our family." I realize that I am an anxious person and having had to deal with this life-threatening situation when my second child was a wee one upped the need for controlling my surroundings that much more. Now I'm trying to learn to let go of the notion of control. That's a hard one to learn. I'm proud we went camping for the first time!

zentangle and doodles inspired by it

2011-04-05T12:22:00.000-04:00

The zentangle tiles that come in this zentangle kit are 3 1/2" squares. I like how you can see that I get better at it the more I do it. :) The pictures of the doodles/tangles in my journal have the finger/thumb in the intentionally so you can see just how tiny this is! I love my journal, another gift from my fabulous friend Jennifer.

blank page of my journal

blank page of my journal II

creative things I've been up to

2011-04-05T12:09:00.000-04:00

I've started to really take an interest in mixed media collages. My favorite magazine is cloth paper scissors. The problem is that I get inspiration overload and fear actually jumping in.

Mixed Media

my first 'official' mixed media collage.

I used fabric scraps and paper, gesso, mod podge, etc.

This is my craft and sewing nook where I do my stuff.

"Radiance" with watercolor pencils and modpodge. I actually did the colors on this one while watching Nanny McPhee...

Radiance

Altered Books:

I started an altered book I found at the thrift store. Some sort of large photo book with pictures of China, in Chinese no less. I decided that I can learn techniques in it, that it doesn't have to be anything other than practice for art journals etc.

coffee filter intro

I am easily intimidated by how great other people's projects look compared to poor little ol' me. The fear of failure makes me want to quit. That's why I say "Keep Going", and that's only the first page!! I am learning that it's okay not to be perfect. Not to mention that it's okay not to know what you're doing when you're doing something for the first time!!

"Keep Going"

This blue collage (about exercise) has incredibly many layers, it's somewhat hard to get used to the lengthy process of prepping a page before you even start collaging etc. Patience is a good lesson I'm learning with this project book.

"'I don't feel like it' is not an option"

A close-up of a pattern made with the mesh from the top of a tangerine box.

The pics and texts are from a book on health from the 'dark ages'... The feminist within was annoyed that there was an enormous section on exercises for men with only about 4 pages of exercises for women. Glad we've come a long way since the 60's!

Art Journaling:

Quilting:

This quilt has been in the works forever. It's my first 'own' quilt without instructions or pattern. I chose to alternate between nine-patch and disappearing nine-patch AND add saching because it was too busy and sort of drowning each other out with disappearing nine-patch only. I find saching tedious.

my green quilt

My next idea is already brewing. Want to try my hand at sewing triangles. Using a hand-me-down Lecien fabric line from my fabulous friend Jennifer.

We'll see if I have the stamina...

Lecien Floral Collection Josephine Rose

Speaking of hand-me-downs: These blocks from a fabulous block exchange kept sitting around at Jennifer's waiting to be finished. Finally, Jennifer gave them to me and I used left-over fabric to make them all "fit". I am proud of how I arranged the blocks, altered and extended them since they weren't all the same size. I used nine blocks for the front and three on the back with extra fabric to fill it in. I didn't create the blocks, but I assembled it, quilted it, and did the binding. Yay me!

front of hand me down quilt

back of hand me down quilt

my binding :)

Last, I've been seriously into ZENTANGLE!! They are a natural extension of my doodle compulsion. I enjoy learning new 'strings' and use the pictures for my desktop and screensaver for inspiration. I will actually do a separate blogpost for my zentangle inspired doodles.

Fostering dogs

2011-04-05T10:49:00.000-04:00

In the fall, I started fostering dogs. I was inspired by Dean from WV Buddies with his Facebook stories about his life with rescue dogs. We got our rescue dog from him two autumns ago.

Our first foster was Rocky, a big cuddler, always ready for some loving! I thought it would break my heart to let him go. The day Dean came to pick him up he brought me Speedy. He quickly helped me get over Rocky...

We fostered Speedy from October through March. He had a torn ligament and after WV Buddies took care of the surgery I was in charge of his rehabilitation. He is the sweetest pillow anyone has ever met! In fact, he is so wonderful I griped constantly over possibly keeping him. If I did I wouldn't be able to foster anymore, so for the sake of other fosters he can not be ours. He is fully healed, loves people, (even child folk) and other dogs. After many months of limping and being in pain he learned how to play again. His true nature however is more being a mellow guy who likes to be where his pack is. He loves driving, every open trunk beckons him! He is back with WVBuddies now to be seen at adoption events. He's got great personality, my eight year old nicknamed him "Speedheart" since Speedy and Sweety are so close. You can see his petfinder link here.

For now we're on foster vacation until after spring break. I can't wait to see what dog Dean has in store for us!

Cooking Upstream

2010-07-21T15:31:00.000-04:00

I don't take criticism well. I like to be liked; I like for my food to be liked and enjoy cooking for people who appreciate it. My favorite person to cook for is my friend Rachel who ooh's and aah's at just the right time and really, really savors my creations. She's envious over my ability to just throw stuff together and make it taste good.

Therefore having a 7 and a 9 year old who do not appreciate my cooking and are very verbal about it is basically a very cruel joke. The daily opposition has actually brought me to the point of an unofficial cooking strike; one day, I just stopped. That is to say, I still brown the occasional beef, throw store-bought sauce on it, boil the noodles and voila, here's your boring dinner. I no longer chop onions first and come up with what we're having second. The only thing remotely 'grown-up flavored' is the premade pizza crust topped with garlic, onion, pepperoncini, ham, pepperoni, maybe some other veggie (the grown-up half only, of course!). Today I came up with a term for what it feels like to cook these days: it's like cooking upstream, against a very strong current of child-sized food critics with no concept of how much work this life really is, from the food to the dishes to the laundry to the meal ideas. This has been a tough summer for me because even the usual breakfast fare of random boxed cereal is no longer pleasing the food critics. Tough, I'm already getting whined at for lunch and dinner, you're on your own for breakfast!

I am changing how much they get without lifting a finger. I am making them earn their keep. They have to take responsibility for eating before we leave and it gets too late to find something quick and easy. This year's summer camp is on the subject of "Mother is not a maid". Tough going. I know I've created these spoiled people myself and now I am struggling to undo the damage I've caused by catering to them. From now on, they will have to be the ones to go upstream if they want to eat. I'm done cooking upstream.

fabric hussy

2010-06-18T09:45:00.000-04:00

Today, I'll be working at the quilt shop. I said that I was hoping that the fabric fairy might have brought something new; should there be no new fabric I'll just flirt with what we already have. In response to this a friend called me 'fabric hussy' and I couldn't help but feel flattered! Although the regular 'hussy' definition is not exactly a compliment. Fabric Hussy, however, is spot on! When it comes to fabric I AM shameless!

hus·sy (hz, hs)

n. pl. hus·sies

1. A woman considered brazen or immoral.

2. A saucy or impudent girl.

ALSO:

hussy [ˈhʌsɪ -zɪ]

n pl -sies

1. a shameless or promiscuous woman

2. Dialect a folder for needles, thread, etc.

I think it's interesting that hussy can be a folder for needles or thread. That definitely is in the right ball park, no?

lumpy update

2010-06-16T15:28:00.000-04:00

Here are two of my Facebook clippings:

"Monday, 12:20pm: Just opened a beer, cause, Jennifer is driving me to the radiology center. I hardly ever drink (if I do, it's at a party) but my heart is racing and I need all the help I can get. Thank goodness for friends!"

"Monday at 3:52pm: MY BOOBIES ARE HEALTHY! It's a negligible fibroidish something that doesn't need nothin'."

In the process of congrats on Facebook I thought about what the word 'lumpy' evokes: Lumpy cream-o-wheat where I forgot to stir. An old poly-fill pillow where the filling has gone all lumpy. Neither are very flattering. Either way, I am so very relieved that it's nothing. I'll cut out caffeine to reduce possible self-induced fibroids and breast pain. That will be good, lumpy breast or not.

a block a day

2010-06-09T23:32:00.001-04:00

I'm going to try to apply this new motto to my daily routine:

"A block a day keeps the quilt guilt away."

I'm not really big on churning out stuff on the sewing machine but I'll never get there if I don't slowly but surely sew something. Wouldn't it be neat if even half of the days I did one block? I could actually make a Queen-sized quilt in this lifetime!

Wonder how much I'm kidding myself, since so much of my drive has to do with falling in love with a new concept. Just as easily, I fall out of love, and don't feel like finishing that great idea I started. I really, really want to stick this one out. Prove to myself that I'm not half-baked, that I can do a real big project start to finish.

Doctor confirms two 'masses'

2010-06-08T17:27:00.001-04:00

I went to the OB/GYN today; having to wait till 10am to call and see if they're part of my insurance was unnerving. (The insurance system was down, of course, so they were no help!) In order to be seen right away I went to one of their offices further away. Was nervous. The Dr. felt a second lump in addition to what I felt. Said I'm still on the young side for it to be serious and she might tell me to cut out caffeine for a couple of months once the mammogram comes back. Gasp! I saw the mammogram coming but not the cold-turkey caffeine. Nervous about the comprehensive mammogram this coming Monday. Nervous about this being more than something cyst-ish or fibroid-ish. I'm kind of trying to be matter-of-fact about it because I am aware that there are many reasons to have lumps; I am not googling anything because medical stuff on the Internet is just notorious for getting you more worked up than necessary. I'm pro-active without being panicky. However, I do feel anxious, like one does when there's too much caffeine in the system. A flimmer or flicker of fear hovering on stand-by, still pushed back for the most part yet almost tangible. Even though I'm going to go on the assumption that it's 'nothing' my life already feels misaligned; this is the real stuff, not that out-of-stock fabric order or my 1st grader's project due on Friday. All of you dishes and dinners, leave me alone! My brain is on something else.

lumpish evidence

2010-06-08T08:45:00.001-04:00

Well, I told my husband Rodney about my lump, and about my sleepless night about it. When I showed him where I had felt it he felt it, too. Agreed that I should have it checked out. That's a bit weird. So many things and symptoms are 'in my head', as in, they can't be proven, confirmed or denied by an outside source. If I have a headache or tingly hands or feet that's all 'on me'. Having someone to confirm a symptom is almost gratifying and a relief. Now I have to figure out how to eliminate any doubt and take care of this lump. But I'm glad I could 'prove' it!

Is that a lump?

2010-06-07T02:23:00.002-04:00

I don't know. Probably not. I'm a self-diagnosed hypochondriac. I come up with the worst case scenario for all of the (many) symptoms I feel. Either way I'm sure I'm on the brink of something; diabetes, heart attack, cancer. Living daily with this sword of Damokles hanging over my head is starting to wear on me.

The truth is, I am afraid to die and leave my family behind. I am afraid to lose any of my loved ones. Ever since my daugther's heart transplant six years ago, I'm more vulnerable. My imagined conditions more fatal. Only to find out it's nothing. (Obviously.) That tingling in my hands and feet? Just a side effect of a migraine, not MS or imminent death. Or from driving a long time this past week; hands from steering, feet from the pedals.

So, is it a lump? I don't know. Every time I'm done probing and prodding my whole breast feels sore and I'm none the wiser. There is a physical in the near future. Not to mention that I do need to lose weight, eat better, and start exercising again. The way I've been mistreating my body with a lousy diet and lack of exercise it's no wonder it is throwing symptoms at me. Time to stop whining about what ails me and start being nicer to myself. I deserve to prolong my life that way (even if I often don't feel that I do) and my family deserves a healthy wife and mother.

Latin in my head

2010-01-15T09:37:00.000-05:00

I am blessed (or is it cursed?) with a family heritage of a classical curriculum. My grandfather was the principal of the second oldest "Gymnasium" (5th through 13th grade) in Bavaria which prides itself in the expertise of dead languages. Everyone in that family was something like a teacher or pastor. Being in the process of raising a more or less average American family myself, I unfairly find myself unable to apply those little sayings in my life. One of them kept creeping up today. (Weird how stuff randomly invades my brain.) I am borrowing this from wikipedia, why rephrase what they can say so much better:

"Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi is a Latin phrase, literally meaning "What is legitimate for Jove (Jupiter), is not legitimate for oxen." The phrase was created by Terence, a playwright of the Roman Republic[1]. The phrase is often translated as "Gods may do what cattle may not". It indicates the existence of a double standard (justifiable or otherwise), and essentially means "what is permitted to one person or group, is not permitted to everyone." (This is the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quod_licet_Iovi,_non_licet_bovi )

That's the sort of stuff I had to hear from my father all the time. That doesn't mean I don't tell my kids those same patronizing things, I just don't do it in Latin (I don't often compare them to oxen.) Which brings me to the shocking truth that, like Luke Skywalker, I don't want to hear: I totally am my father.

How we shut out enormous disasters (Haiti earthquake)

2010-01-14T10:16:00.000-05:00

You can't log on to your google start page (igoogle, with my choices of news etc) without scanning headlines about the earthquake that hit Haiti. How strange that something with such heavy content can be summed up with a line like "Tens of thousands feared dead after Haiti earthquake" (Washington Post). I do not want to know about it. I want it to go away. I want to not stumble upon more headlines and horrible pictures and have that age-old world grief wash over me. As a child with politically active and world-minded parents, I soaked up a lot of fear about nuclear threat, grief for starving children in Africa and tortured prisoners flagged by Amnesty International and worry about the globe going down the toilet as highlighted by Greenpeace. It would keep me awake at night. Now, I feel cheap for blocking any and all details from myself. Empathy is what I'm good at, and a 'healthy dose' of sadness about the situation makes us act. I would really rather not and feel like a coward for it. Tomorrow (payday) I'll go back to that Red Cross website http://www.icrc.org/web/eng/siteeng0.nsf/html/helpicrc and donate $25. I don't care how it gets used. I just want absolution from taking part in this world problem. Crazy and sad, how when the scale is so enormous and incomprehensible it gets easier to shut it out. I know that is a known fact and I am trying not be a shameful statistic in a global matter.

dog (induced) blessings

2010-01-12T11:01:00.007-05:00

Today, I am grateful in so many ways.

I am grateful that I made the leap of becoming a dog owner. I was very worried that I might not be good at it, or that I might resent the dog once I had it. How wonderfully blessed we are with Gaby! She is a pleasure to be around.

I am grateful for our van because it affords me the flexibility and variety in where we go for a walk. People take vehicles for granted. I know that with any vehicle you're on borrowed time. So I am grateful for the transportation we have. Even if I'd rather have a Subaru or Volvo station wagon... ;)

I am grateful for Gaby, she inspires me to get off my butt; if I won't do it for my sake then at least I will for hers. I experience the seasons for better or worse, and I come to appreciate the differences in nature more. (Boy, am I grateful for long johns, without which the walks would literally be painfully cold! What a cold winter it's been!) Gaby also helps me get to know the surrounding world like I've never known it before. I like to walk in random neighborhoods after dropping off the kids at school; you watch out, I might be in yours next!

I am grateful for living in Northern Virginia near my Prince William County Parks - I have a smorgasbord of well-maintained park choices everywhere around me.

Last, I am grateful for my husband who, although he made it clear that this is my dog, my choice and therefore my responsibility backs me up 100%. Life is good!

Used Year Resolution

2010-01-04T13:50:00.002-05:00

I don't do New Year's Resolutions. But here's mine: I want to NOT buy NEW unless absolutely necessary. Exclusions are obviously groceries, TP, and such needs, and shoes. Another one is ingredients needed for crafts I'm actually doing; not 'I-might-make-xyz-this-year' ingredients, but things like glue or a refill of white acrylic paint should I run out. Everything else should be thrift store, freecycle, craigslist, or handed down somehow. I don't expect to do this for an entire 12 months. But I want to challenge myself not go to stores. To leave non-essentials at the grocery store (Wegmans has that big time and money trap in the middle). The biggest hurdle I see is merchandise at the store I work at. Today was my first day. In a way it was a relief not to look at the reduced linens at the grocery store, because I don't need them, and they're new. End of discussion in my head! That is part of my Less is More campaign, the simplified life. My mantra:

Use it up
Wear it out
Make it do
Or do without

Happy New/Used Year!

Post Scriptum/Update, 1/12/10: I feel like after a few conversations with friends and myself I have to clarify that this doesn't mean I'm allowed to run amok in yardsales, estate sales, antiques shops, thrift stores, ebay or craigslist. Nor am I allowed to accept all the freebees passed on from friends just for the freebee-ness' sake. Less is still more. And only essentials should actually be purchased.

Already I have mind battles with myself; after many nights of a crooked neck on a hard flat pillow I had the idea to buy a down pillow like I used to have growing up. Is that essential? I don't know. Probably not. So that's one I have to really think about. I do NOT want to buy that used. I guess it has to go on the backburner for a while until I figure out if that's the only thing that'll save me, or if I haven't thought of a thriftier option out there.

Math nightmares

2009-12-31T08:53:00.000-05:00

So I'm thirty-something and still have nightmares about failing math. We had a horrendous math teacher from 'the industry' rather than an educating background who let us suffer for being such ignorant idiots unable to even grasp the most simple concepts... I know it can be hard to understand what it's like NOT knowing, because you forget what that feels like. Then maybe teaching isn't the right job for you! I am still seriously traumatized regarding everything math. The feeling he conveyed compares to Snape in Harry Potter being spiteful and vindictive towards Harry. That was MY teacher!

Come to find out that out of the three high schools in my hometown the math staff of ours was the laughing stock of the other two! In other words, our teachers were idiots, not the students! That revelation doesn't change the fact that every once in a while a cruel, balding skinny middle-aged wire-rimmed man in a dark suit fails me in the test I can't pass in my dreams.

Grounded

2009-12-16T09:36:00.002-05:00

After spending a whole day yesterday frivolously paying a pity visit and then becoming chauffeur/chaperone to my friend Jen with a big sewing handicap,

view that story here: http://sweetlibertygrace.blogspot.com/2009/12/war-wounds.html

I told my husband that I was grounded for the next two days; I didn't think it was going to be quite so literally. Already, my van's battery was dead yesterday from a seatbelt stuck in the door, thus draining the battery with the van light that stayed on. Yet I didn't heed my van's warning to stay put and be productive at home. So today, my van took matters into its own, uhm, hands? and swallowed up my keys. Well, rather, I locked them in last night and couldn't drive my kids to school on time this morning. (At least there was a list of moms whose fault it was that their kids were tardy, ahead of me, so I'm not the only dolt.)

Keys are not my strong suit. I lost a set at Wal-Mart (and someone apparently didn't think they needed to turn the found keys in, morons!). I lost the broken-off key-less remote at the movie theater (and someone apparently didn't think they needed to keep it at lost and found, morons!). Now I'm down to ONE key for the family van. I am not exactly a person one should trust with their only key to their vehicle. (Moron!) Sigh.

I was being rescued by my one friend who usually uses her iPhone to breathe etc (who, for once, wasn't attached to the phone at the moment and called me back after, say, 4 or 5 attempts to reach her). She drove me and the kids to school so I could sign them in tardy and walk the dog home after.

All in all, I really need this day, and tomorrow, to sort out my life a bit - it's a mess on my desk, on the laundry room floor, allover... I need this time to be less flighty, and a bit more grounded.

It's a girl!

2009-11-17T17:23:00.001-05:00

We just adopted a dog from a local animal rescue league less than a week ago. Some friends are utterly shocked and didn’t see it coming, while others heard me mention pros and cons, knew that it was on my mind for a while. I have a few friends who quite fervently discouraged me from getting a dog because of all the pain theirs is causing or has caused. Then there are the typical stranger dog-owners who think everyone should get one.

I know there is a honeymoon phase after which the docile pooch can become a dominant house dog. I’m taking all the positives with a grain of salt as I know they might change somewhat. Here is what I know: Gaby, our mixed breed approximately one year old spaniel/pointer/something/maybeaustralianshepherd?mix is great with the kids. Our six year old daughter who can be a little much with the loving when it comes to dogs doesn’t bother her. Gaby is mellow (that might change some the more she feels she owns this place) and sweet. She almost reminds me of cats the way she lies around and sleeps near you. We even sometimes forget we have a dog although she’s right in the middle because she doesn’t easily startle or react to sounds immediately. I know some things will catch her attention as she gets used to our rhythm that right now might leave her cold; she might take more interest in us shaking out cereal for ourselves thinking it’s dog food. She barks at some passersby, or people coming to the door, that’s something I want her to do without being overexcited. I think barking is what dogs do, as long as she doesn’t have to be too stressed when she does it. She does pull at the leash more than she did initially; us humans, we clearly need some training!

So far, the worst part is that I worry about making mistakes and ‘ruining’ her education since she seems well behaved for the most part. I need to relax a bit more, enjoy that she loves me, and enjoy how much fun it is to have someone there with you when you fold boring laundry. Reading the dog books and looking up questions has helped, although some things obviously sound easier in a book than in real life. I already impressed hubby how I got her to sit with a hand motion. We’re off to a good start. The chewed up pencil wasn’t her fault, someone left it for her to find and the kids have to be trained better to not leave stuff out. I know, I know, Cesar Millan says just because it's on the floor doesn't mean it's the dogs. But I think training the kids not to leave arts and crafts supplies on the floor is better overall. As a matter of fact, I’m amazed how well Gaby ‘cleans’ the house, much less stuff lying around! She doesn’t shed like crazy, either (I know, I know, wait for spring). As my best friend, who met her today and utterly adored her, said, “She’s perfect for your family!”

famous by association

2009-10-11T19:06:00.009-04:00

My friend and teacher of all things needle related Jennifer has been published, for real!! Here's the link to her blog that shows the magazine she's in. She's also all kinds of other cool which will be revealed over time. :)

http://sweetlibertygrace.blogspot.com/2009/10/giveaway-time.html

Intro to my unfinished first Quilt

2009-09-11T13:06:00.004-04:00

This summer, on three weekends in July, I took a Beginner's Quilting class at the Quilt Shop where I work. (That's where I met, and instantly clicked with my new friend Jennifer, quilter extraordinaire. I asked her to marry me, but she's taken, and that reminded me that I am, too. Maybe we can start a commune instead.)

Me being me, the quilting project wasn't as straight forward as one might have liked. I was at the beach for a week in the beginning of those three weeks, so I couldn't do any homework on the piecing. (I'm glad I didn't actually take the sewing machine to the beach, I wouldn't have had the energy or the desire to craft, anyway.)

Then I didn't like the look of the log cabin table runner in three blocks because the whole magic effect of what log cabin pattern can do comes from what happens when you put them in more rows than one. So I chose to do make a square table cloth with four blocks instead.
Here is a link to quilt with log cabin pattern. The difference between light and dark fabric is what makes the magic happen. http://www.museum.state.il.us/muslink/art/htmls/ks_piece_logbarn.html

Not doing homework and having 25% more work to do put me 'behind' with the rest of the class and made me feel pretty much like in math class back in the day when I just 'didn't get it and felt inadequate. Turns out, I liked the piecing just fine on my own time, at my own house. I do not enjoy the pressure to perform and keep up with others. When the time came to pin the three layers together I didn't feel like it for a few weeks. When I finally did it, getting to the sewing machine took another week or so. That was over after 30 seconds when I broke the needle; it took me at least a week to buy a replacement needle. Then another week to put it in. And that needle broke, too. (Tension and walking foot being all off on my machine, or was it me?) This has put a serious crimp in my ability to finish the stitch in the ditch, figuring out how to do binding, and putting this small but lengthy project behind me! Watching Fons and Porter on PBS is inspiring, but so are their wonderfully magic machines (Bernina etc). It helps to know that even 'real quilters' frequently send their quilt tops away to have them quilted, that really takes the pressure off of me to become an expert at everything I do.

So, this is what I got so far, in my favorite color blue, of course:

Now all I have to do is figure out how to get my machine to work and I might just finish it. And I made myself promise that I have to finish one project before I get to start the next new thing, which is wool applique.

the fabrics I worked with this week

2009-09-11T12:42:00.000-04:00

I worked in the Quilt Shop on Wednesday and Thursday and although it was quiet (after a busy Labor Day weekend) I enjoyed working with the fabrics. At first, I got to finish cutting the new Santorini fabric into half yards and fat quarters.

Then the next line to 'refill' was the very muted, old-fashioned Whimsical line. At first I was feeling mopy because I had enjoyed the vibrant colors so much. Then the usual love for seeing, touching, and working with different patterns made even the darker tones very worth my while.

The next day, I finished the Whimsical and received a shipment of Maisy fabric! I ran out of time and didn't get to cut it, but it's so gorgeous, vibrant primaries, cute prints, I could barely catch my breath when I opened the box! Here it is:

I love fabric so much, it's almost hard to believe I haven't always worked or 'had' them in my life!

Used book sale - I am RICH!

2009-09-11T12:32:00.000-04:00

I got a ton of books for under $10, plus three quilting magazines for 25 cents each. I love getting inspired by older craft books etc, and I threw in some Goosebumps and Calvin & Hobbes for good measure. Oh, and The Wizard of Oz and Grimms Fairy Tales, old fashioned books!

theoretical parenting and my own shameful reality

2009-09-04T12:23:00.001-04:00

8/24/09: In theory, I think children should be treated the way `like real people, not talked at, but interacted with. Allowed to make their own mistakes, taught to be responsible for themselves. Not yelled at. A parent shouldn't fake their way through a conversation to get rid of the child infront of them as quickly as possible to get back to the 'real' stuff they were doing. (!)

The practice: This summer held so much potential to spend quality time with my two kids yet I squandered it away, depositing them infront of TV and PC. And now I'm surprised they're misbehaved, out of sorts little brats. With two weeks to go and remorse about their tv habits I'm ready to cancel cable and move into Claude Moore Colonial Farm here: http://www.1771.org/. Being naturally pessimistic (I can't believe I'm actually admitting it officially in writing) I can't help but worry about having 'seen the light' too late. All I can do is hope that the negative trend can be reversed, real quality time had, and responsibilities learned - the latter especially on my part.

9/4/09 Update: I have drastically reduced tv and pc consumption and it has been wonderful. I'm so glad that it instantly changed the atmosphere in the house, and that the 'damage' to my kids is slowly but surely reversible. I am not an unconiditional parent like I'd like to be (a la Alfie Kohn). I take away tv and pc as a means of getting the kids to do what they need to do. That's something I'll work on, too. I'd like to work with their understanding, not 'because I said so'.

no new blog for me

2009-09-04T12:07:00.001-04:00

I was considering starting a new blog with the 'neither here nor there'. I feel like I'm that in more ways than one. Neither German nor American, neither all about the US, nor about my native country. I'm neither mainstream nor a real hippie. Half-baked crunchie granola, finding my way back to the environmentalist hippie tradition that I was raised in, and reinventing those ways in the context of the modern world we live in. A friend of mine started a new one at the same time, even with the crunchy angle. (She actually writes for a living, so no comparisons, please!) Here's her link: http://approachingcrunchy.blogspot.com/.

Sometimes I feel 'neither here nor there' in my creativity, my ability to easily start and fall in love with something but not actually own up to it. If I owned up to the new 'it' I might have to prove myself, might have to show progress. If I owned up to 'it' people might see me for the impostor that I am. I dabble, don't commit. I'm neither here nor there.

I have since then changed my mind. As far as positive affirmations go, that title ain't it. a blog with so much negativity doesn't acknowledge that I'm proud of my German-ness (I love that line "It's hard to be humble when you're European"!) and I think I'm very creative. So 'neither here nor there' doesn't really allow for growth. I'm going to stick with beemajabee for now, since no matter what things in life matter to me (art, schooling, parenting, nationality, politics) I have always been, and think will always be beemajabee on the internet. So, no new blog, just new posts. :)

words I want to live by

2009-08-20T23:20:00.001-04:00

Use it up

wear it out

make it do

or do without

less is more

Myers Briggs Quiz ENFJ, Facebook version

2009-08-12T09:21:00.004-04:00

ENFJ (Extraversion, iNtuition, Feeling, Judgment)

You are warm, empathetic, responsive, and responsible. You are highly attuned to the emotions, needs, and motivations of others. You find potential in everyone, and want to help others fulfill their potential. You may act as a catalyst for individual and group growth. You are loyal, and are responsive to praise and criticism. You are sociable, facilitate others in a group, and provide inspiring leadership. Famous people with your same ENFJ personality include: Abraham Lincoln, Ronald Reagan, Dick Van Dyke, Diane Sawyer, Peyton Manning, Pete Sampras, Johnny Depp, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Update: I'm told the Facebook version of this test is BALOWNEY (bologna...) I'd love to see what the real test says.

blue

2009-05-17T12:07:00.004-04:00

Der Himmel war blau,
Und blau war das Meer,
Und ich stand davor
Und freute mich sehr;
Denn ob es dunkel- oder hell-
ob veilchen- oder auch pastel-
ob preussisch- oder gar saphir-
Blau ist die liebste Farbe mir;
Es macht mich froh und munter,
Und wer mir das nicht glauben will,
Erlebt sein blaues Wunder...

from: Carlino Caramel, by Sempe.

My version in English:

Blue was the sky
and blue was the sea
and I stood there
as happy as can be
for whether it's dark, medium, or bright,
whether indigo or pastel, it's such delight
whether prussian or azure
blue is my favorite, that's for sure
and if you don't believe that this is true
then i will beat you black and blue...

Cool flickr link to blue pictures:
http://www.flickr.com/groups/bluebleu/

headache wordle

2009-02-05T19:02:00.002-05:00

2007-12-19T21:27:00.001-05:00

It’s been quite a while, and it’s the second Christmas that I have taken Jesus out of the equation. I think I fretted a lot more about it last year about taking the Christ out of Christmas, feeling somewhat ‘betrayed’ by the fact that so many traditions hail from before Jesus was ever born, and are pagan or non-Christian in nature but are claimed to be Christian. Anger about people scolding all things non-Christian. This year I am more secure in what I know for myself, more secure in what I believe, and therefore not so threatened by the antics and fluff that comes my way. I have taken a lot of the commercial stress that I also loathed out of the month before Christmas, the cards, the gifts, the making sure all the ‘ought to’s’ got done. I have decided that “Shoulds and Oughttos don’t live here anymore”. I have been writing the cards to people who write to me, and allowed myself to let go of the long list of people. It doesn’t mean I’m letting go of the people, nor that my heart doesn’t include them anymore, it just means that I am not stressing over writing everyone I ever cared for. It makes the cards that I do send that much more meaningful. I am allowed to internalize the love I feel, it doesn’t have to be ‘proven’ by writing cards…
I realize now that a lot of the things I used to do were motivated by the desire to prove that people love me or to secure their love for me because I had such low self-esteem. I have been actively working on my self-esteem with positive affirmations and they’ve worked wonders in my every day life. I’m not saying I’m there 100%, it just means I am aware of how often a negative thought about me crosses my mind and I replace it with a positive one. Being nicer to me takes practice, since I’ve got 20 years of negativity to undo!

So, last I wrote we thought we were possibly moving to the Pittsburgh area, hubby started to look for jobs there, and I really scouted out what that would entail; I researched the best area to move to there, schools, things to do, other crunchy-granola parenting groups with similar values as mine. It started in the summer after a July trip to his family that made it painfully aware to me that this DC area is crap.

I don’t like that there is traffic at all times, not just rush hour; the summer weather sucks for me, I’m trapped inside June through August. I don’t like how there are all these McMansions, the cookie cutter houses without personality and the competitive people who try to have the latest vehicle, bigger, newer, whatever… I liked how in comparison in SW PA people are friendlier, more laid back drivers; the climate is a tad bit easier (winter sooner, yes, but at least life doesn’t come to a halt, people still work and go to school even when it snows. Here, if there’s an ice patch on the Western end of the county the entire county doesn’t have school… geesh!). They don’t even have new neighborhoods there; in SW PA it’s all sort of old, lived in, and more personal. Anyway, of course moving to somewhere new also has its downside, and I realized I am not ready to leave the friends who’ve become family to me, since I already left my real family behind. We both realized we do like it here, and don’t want to deal with the relocation, so hubby started concentrating his efforts on finding a new job in the DC area. He’ll have his Bachelor of Science within a couple of months, and did all sorts of interviews, which was nerve-wrecking, to get your hopes up and be on hold, sort of, until the answer came back. Well, I guess he really worked on finding a job for about 2 to 3 months and finally last month got an offer that’ll change our quality of life for sure. Initially I was disappointed that the increase won’t be big enough to live more comfortably and start with real expenses to fix up the house (1980 townhouse, lots to be done). But the increase is still significant enough to not fret the bills so much, or having to juggle the bills in the perfect combination so the money lasts and we don’t get penalized for paying late, or for overdrafts. We still need to be careful, but at least we can breathe again. That’s just the money part, though. What’s the real winner about this job is that hubby is done commuting into the city (1 ½ to 2 hours, twice a day) but will go in the OPPOSITE direction 20 minutes from home!!!! He might even have breakfast with us before we all head out in the mornings! That hasn’t happened in 10 years… The insurance is better; we won’t have to pay percentages and deductibles like we’ve had to do this past year. The car insurance and gas money will go down. I can’t even begin to say how psyched I am.
On the other hand I just realized that this big chapter of hubby’s life is coming to an end, and people he’s worked with forever will no longer be in his life. When I told him that this got me a bit sad hubby replied “I’m not. Because I’m going to get to spend more time with the three people who really matter in my life.” Sigh. I love him!

Today I have this great sense of “best days of our lives”, of feeling complete and right with the world. The holidays are taken care of; the cards and package for my German family sent; I am thrilled for the DVDs and CDs we burnt our favorite music and the little home videos we made while we were there. Homemade calendars with pictures of us. A couple of favorite kid CDs as well, and a few knitted things. I can’t wait for their reactions! That’s what I like, when I get excited for what the others will get and not so concerned about what I want. I was worried during the time I was making the wish lists for other people because I realized all the things I wanted and it got me greedy. It’s good to be content and let go of things. I like that I’m more peaceful than I am when I get the ‘gimme gimme’s…

I am looking forward to the little holiday things yet to come. Tomorrow I’m getting together with my heathen home schooler friends, potluck and good company; on Friday we’ll do gingerbread houses at a friend’s house, just my girl and me. My boy will be off from 12/22 to ½, which doesn’t seem very long, I used to have two weeks off during winter. Then again, the American school vacation system is totally different from Germany: 2 weeks in winter, 2 weeks for Easter, 2 weeks for Pentecost, 6 weeks for summer, and holidays. Or something like that. Hubby will be off work until the day after Christmas, from Saturday through Tuesday he’s home. It actually occurred to me when I was printing out the pictures for our 2007 albums that the three days (two nights) in Ocean City, MD in the summer seemed so much longer because of how much fun we had, and how many things we did, and how rare it was. It’s nice to know that you don’t have to have a two week vacation for it to be a real family vacation. Hubby will get paid the vacation he didn’t use, that’ll help us get back on our feet from the recent money deficit (since he wasn’t getting money for going to school, or money for our girl from a medical grant, that had reached its lifetime limit…) He’ll be working with a company contracted out by the Marines of all people, at least they apparently can tolerate Army better than any of the other branches… We’ll see how hubby does with them, he said they seemed high-strung as can be expected, but thinks it won’t be a problem.

Okay, so I wrote so much that I don’t feel like going back to see what I’ve said about positive affirmations. I have been in a much better place emotionally and mentally since I’ve started them. Working to undo 20 years or more of negative self-talk. It’s pretty amazing how much happiness comes into your life when you allow yourself to like yourself. What a concept! It’s, in a way, contagious, I love me and love spreading self-love, being nice to others and nudging them to be nice to themselves. It’s utterly incredible just how many women are low about themselves, lack self-esteem and are used to thinking negatively about themselves. I have planted the seed of catching yourself doing it, that’s the first step of working on being nicer to yourself. I love having friends, and uplifting them, and like to know that I’m a good friend to them. (Warm and fuzzies going on…)

Ever since we thought we might move I’ve been doing a lot of work in the house, decluttering and making it look better in case we put the house on the market. The idea to sell is off the table, but I’m still going to repaint the whole house; we started with the livingroom, I can’t believe just how much work that is! We also shuffled some rooms around, in the process of learning how to ‘stage’ a house I realized that each room needs to have one purpose so buyers don’t get confused (they can’t imagine things for themselves, apparently, and might get turned off by a multi-purpose room). I also decided that I’m tired of holding my breath for something that might or will happen in the future: no more holding on to ‘just in case’ items. I don’t need a guest bedrooms/playroom/library if I only have guests every 3 years. I don’t want a humongous piece of furniture to take away the other purposes of the room. So we got rid of the bed, moved the office down into the basement (with 5 book shelves, a craft table, two desks) and condensed all the kids’ toys into a new playroom. Less clutter in the livingroom, no play corner in the basement that they don’t like to play in because it’s tucked away and has other stuff in there. And if we ever do sell the playroom just becomes a kid’s bedroom; right now, they still have both beds in the same room, they both like it that way, and they’re still little enough to do that. As a matter of fact, My girl often sneaks into my boy’s bed after we say goodnight because he falls asleep instantly, doesn’t know anything about it, and she doesn’t like to lay awake alone. I think it’s really cute!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

attachment parenting at its finest, sort of

2007-11-02T19:00:00.000-04:00

Tonight, the children were wound up and too loud for my end-of-the-day nerves, so I told them for dinner they had to pretend we had a baby sleeping upstairs and that they needed to be quiet and speak with low voices. DD, 4, instantly took that as her cue to figure out what we could do with that baby, and both her and DS, 7, came up with ways to make this a not-so-quiet dinner.

DS: "Let's pretend we're waking the baby up!" DD: "I can hear the baby!"
DH: "That didn't work as planned. ... Let's move on - no more baby!"

DD fakes a tummy ache to be excused from dinner and goes upstairs to get a baby doll. By that time, dinner is over and I'm in the kitchen.

She approaches me, holding the doll up: "The baby is hungry."
Me: "Whose baby is it? Yours or mine?" (I'm flexible, I can be mom or grandma...)
DD: "Ours."
Me: "Okay, then you need to sit down and breastfeed her. Go to the livingroom and feed the baby."
DD sits down, sticks the baby inside the shirt.
DH: "You're going to smother the baby, you need to lift the shirt so it can breathe."
Me: "No, you can have your shirt over it, you just need to allow room to breathe."

I walk over, adjust the baby, then the shirt, then realize DD is in underwear and needs to be warmer. I bring my sweater to warm both the baby and her 'mom' because the real wrap is in the car and I'm too lazy to get something from upstairs. Moments later, she's done feeding and hands both baby and sweater to me. So, here I am, with the 'baby' sleeping on my tummy in the makeshift sling. I can't wait to be a grandmother!

thinking about moving

2007-07-24T18:32:00.000-04:00

Hubby and I are thinking about moving. It all started because we visited his mother in SW Pennsylvania in the middle of July and being there really made me think what I want out of life, what is just wishful thinking and getting caught in the 'grass is greener on the other side' trap, or what can reasonably be changed.

Really, three things are coming together here:

A) Visiting this month made us see how nice it would be to live there:
- beautiful countryside
- cheaper cost of living
- closer to his family
- people are friendlier
- getting away from one of the worst traffic places in the country

B) our daugther's grant from a foundation helping with medical bills will expire August 1. The monthly cost of medication in addition to co-pays and hospital bills is enormous.

C) Hubby's extra $$ for going to school is going to stop coming in once he graduates this year. We can't afford things as it is, but once that stops coming we're up s*^t creek without an ore.

Selling our fixer upper that we've never afforded to fix would give us the chance to pay off the credit card and other debts, buy a reasonable house, and live comfortably in SW PA. On the other hand, it is terrifying to move away from the home/area I've known for 10 years, from the very, very dear friends I call my family here; I don't have any more babies, so the friends you make with your older kids aren't the same as the ones you made when you nursed your wee ones. I just found a heathen homeschooler crunchy granola organic buying club nook here; will I find something like that in such a hinterland setting? Not to mention changing transplant centers from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. That is a HUGE deal. This is the team that has kept our daughter alive, safe, and well with their conservative care and vigilant supervision. I don't know what it'll be like in a different center. Trusting strangers with her life is so hard to fathom. Finding the right school district for my boy is another can of worms I don't want to open.

Another thing that makes my stomach turn is the work involved in getting our townhouse up to par so we even get the money we want. I know that houses in our street have not been selling because they are too expensive, although they have all the trimmings and updates one could want. Will our desolate shack without bells and whistles stand a chance? We'll see. I'm contacting realtors to see how early we realistically can get out of here. Oh, speaking of getting out: Hubby actually needs to land a JOB first, and that's daunting, time consuming, and he doesn't even have the time to look around. He really needs to get his degree first, look later. And that's scary. We could be thousands more in debt by then. This is one of those things where I'd like to fast forward 6 to 9 months and already be on the other side of this moving thing.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

2007-07-22T21:07:00.000-04:00

I don't want to talk about the book. I just finished and feel a mixed sense of relief and grief. I want to talk about reading the last book. Yes, I am part of the Potter Mania. No, I did not stand in line to be let into Borders at midnight. Theoretically, that sounded like a fun and a special 'once in a lifetime' event. But I'm claustrophobic and not good with crowds, and people only allowed in one at a time once one person exited because it's that crowded does not sound particularly fun to me . So I was feeling cool that I didn't race at the first chance I got. I slept in Saturday, ate breakfast, and went to Borders around 10:30. The lines didn't faze me. I got a chance to look at the offers (actually, the lines moved a bit fast for that). First, there was the line to get the book; then the line to pay for it. I started reading in the second line, unfortunately somewhat thwarted in my effort by the recognition by the young woman infront of me of the older man behind me; he was her driving ed teacher in school or something along those lines. She is a new special ed teacher. Well, I didn't get far in the book that way. Reading at red lights wasn't very fruitful either. I didn't want to be in the headlines of a Potterhead having had an accident because she couldn't wait till she got home. Besides, the book is so heavy and awkward to hold by the steering wheel, by the time I had it in place the lights would always turn green.

At home, the real reading began. Now I don't remember what we did Saturday afternoon, but I pretended to be doing it while thinking of the book. Oh, right, we went to the beach of the Potomac River, after a bitsy hike in the State Park. I had my feet in the sand, took pictures of the family like crazy to prove that I was participating. Then I took the book and read. Every once in a while I had to defend my reading: no, I was not trying to keep up with the more frantic frenzy of a Potterhead girlfriend. I always read like an idiot when I read, like an addict. Besides, who is she to talk to once she's done if I don't read quickly, too? etc etc. I almost read through the children's bedtime. I just joined hubby and kids right at lights out (after I had given up on figuring out a way to get away with reading in the dark while they go to sleep; I usually sing for a half hour after lights out and realized I can't sing and read at the same time). I read while watching a movie with hubby (Superman returns, a perfectly shallow movie for the purpose of reading). I went upstairs to read in bed after, leaving hubby behind (he was trying to get me to keep watching, and it was already midnight; what part about my being a Potterhead didn't he understand??). And for the first time in years fell asleep with a book on my chest, lights on. It was my turn to wake up and give our daughter her meds (it usually is my turn on Sundays); then I buried myself in the book again. Realizing that our 4 and 6 year old have needs, too, (but barely) I decided we should make the trip to the Farmer's Market as a family outing. I was the first one in the car, so I could cool it off, and so I could wait there, reading. I left the book on the center console with a sigh when we had to exit the car. I pretended to be buying honey, tomatoes, potatoes and peaches all the while thinking about the book. At home, with regular interruptions to feed the little ones something (whatever, no real meal, I don't think(?)) I kept reading and reading. Then, around 100 or so pages before the end (of 759 pages) I didn't want it to end. So I ended up folding laundry. And cleaning the bedroom. Wouldn't want to start the week with a mess, now would we? Then I figured the kids need some outside time and begged hubby to prep the pool so I could keep reading. Too much chlorine? Okay, just put the kids in, so I can sit by the pool with the book... I gave the book a break, paying for it with itchy skin (maybe too much chlorine isn't so good after all). I also thought it would be good to actually feed the kids something. We had dinner. (Don't remember what. Oh, yea, 5 minute tuna melts.) More and more pages of the book just melted away, to the thicker and thicker growing 'read' portion of it. Then, shockingly, it was over. In time for bedtime. And instead of reaching for the phone to call my frantic frenzied Potterhead girlfriend, I just wanted to be alone with the result of the read book. I didn't feel like dissecting the good parts, the bad parts, everything I loved the best and what made me cry. I just wanted to wrap myself up with the grief of having finished the last of the Harry Potter books. Of being done with the series. Of no more waiting for next year's release. Now all we Potterheads have left are the movies. (And, of course, any of the charity books J K Rowling might write.)

health of my daughter

2007-05-18T10:48:00.000-04:00

May 8 my 4yo had a procedure at CHOP and I haven't felt like being on blogger much. Here's why I posted these messages on my daughter's blog because it's not just for fun but relevant updates to my family abroad and friends I'm not in touch frequently enough to keep in the loop over the phone. Blogger in comparison just seems for journal/diary relief.

May 09, 2007 at 05:55 PM EDT
BAD news: I just got word from the transplant team: N's biopsy was a level 2, the worst yet since her transplant 3 years ago. They are calling in a prednisone (steroid) order right now, I'll pick it up tonight so we can start her on it tomorrow morning. Last time we started her on that she woke up starving every 2 hours. This is bad news. She really blew up with the prednisone. My little girl will lose her face again! They want to re-cath in 2 weeks, or between May 23 and 28. I am devastated! At least she's not getting hospitalized right now. But I have no experience with level 2, and am basically freaking out. This is not the news I wanted to hear.

May 10, 2007 at 02:15 PM EDT
I spoke to C., the transplant expert extraordinnaire. We were at CHOP when her son S. who had had a transplant before, was waiting for a heart. Sadly, he has since passed away but that doesn't stop C. from knowing all there is to know, even if in S.'s day they didn't have a certain treatment she still knows what they'll likely do now. She assured me that N. is in great hands, that they caught it so early is very good news, and even if the prednisone isn't showing the desired improvement they would probably hospitalize her (something like 10 days) and give her more potent drugs. She spoke of 'an arsenal' at the doctors' exposal, and there is much that can be done before N. is even critical. I don't like the thought of having to be hospitalized but she really did give me hope that much can be done and that the transplant team is 'on top of it'. Thank you, C., for the pep talk. N. has been starving all morning, and C. reminded me that she would be cranky. I know that the transplant team doesn't like to worry me and can't tell me all these things that C. can, but it would be helpful to hear that sort of stuff when you start a four year old on a steroid, wouldn't you agree? I feel so much better now, better able to face the facts, even if a hospitalization is in the near future. N. looks great. Let's just take it one day at a time.

May 16, 2007 at 06:59 PM EDT
The cath has been rescheduled to after Memorial Day, we'll be up in Philly 5/29 and 5/30. It won't be Dr. H. doing it but I agreed with the transplant team that at this point where the timely manner is more urgent we don't have the option of being choosy. Since being really low about this whole thing last week I've let it go. Things will probably turn out okay, and if they don't fretting about it won't change that. (I'm writing in my journal and gardening to de-stress...) Another thing that worried me in light of the current rejection episode was whether or not the cidofovir cream for N.'s molluscum ("polka dots") had anything to do with the rejection. It turns out, her transplant Dr. C thinks it might likely be the other way around: the body's immune system reacting to the polka dots might have something to do with it. So getting rid of the skin issue is a priority at this point. Dr. S, the dermatologist we've been seeing once a month wants to increase the concentration from 0.5% to 1% because both him and us were disappointed that the improvement seemed to slow down too much. Dr. C. agrees with stepping it up. Hopefully the insurance will approve it (what does that make it, if 0.5% is $1000, is 1% $2000?? Hopefully we won't have to pay that!!) Unfortunately we've run out of the last cream and aren't treating at all right now until that cream question is sorted out. (And since I can't do anything about THAT either, I'm just waiting and letting that one go as well...)

best days of our lives

2007-05-02T09:06:00.000-04:00

Last night when hubby and I left the kids' room at 9:30pm and were finally done with bedtime (an hour later than normal, even though no one napped!) we were also done with the day. We just fell asleep on the spot. I was somewhat disappointed not to be able to get more out of the day. When 4yo woke up from a nightmare at 2:30am and cried in the hallway because she thought we were downstairs I retrieved her to have her sleep on her new 'bed' beside mine (a comforter on the floor so I have more room in our bed). I realized the reason she thought we were downstairs was that we had left all the lights on and all the usual business of straightening out and preparing for the next day was left undone. This is not really what the blog is about. It's just in the neighborhood of what life is like in my real life.

Before putting the kids to bed I got a small conversation in with my man who truly is my dearest, best friend and told him about how a friend keeps pointing out "what if this IS the best it gets, and the easiest the kids are ever going to be?" and we both decided that we DO have to pretend these are the best days of our lives, waiting for improvement will always leave us wanting more, wanting better, and unsatisified with the moment. It hit me especially hard that 4yo's rejection might turn out to be a bigger deal than we anticipate. If we end up with months in the hospital or even a fullblown rejection with no remedy (I suppose that would be a new heart) it would suck to have griped about everything, and to have been bitter about every spill. (4yo is a spill master lately!) So, yes, these are indeed the best days of our lives. With business undone, lights left on, and less than perfect.

i don't want to be me

2007-04-25T18:24:00.000-04:00

Today was one of the worst days in a while, I’ve cried 4 times because I don’t like myself. A Mary Kay lady was doing the facial/presentation and having to look into the mirror up close was too much to handle... Since the 3 year anniversary of N's heart transplant is coming up I was looking at pictures from 3 years ago, and I looked younger and better!The 30lbs I’ve gained the past 3 years, and a lifetime of knowledge (more fiber, a little exercise frequently, less caloric drinks, more water, less caffeine, more fruits and vegetables, no late night snacking, not so much candy, blabla) doesn’t sink in. All these things I know to improve my health and my weight and I won’t just do something. I’ve been having aches and small issues (like an infected nick on the leg from shaving getting bad, a joint aching, migraines constantly, just stuff, making me feel like I need new body parts) and the heat is not working for me, the A/C not working in the van, that’ll be $1300 (estimate today) and I just don’t want to be me right now. Kids walking all over me, especially N. getting into food, disobeying, R. screaming at me, I’m SO tired of being in charge. Makes me want to go on vacation, or on “Biggest Loser” and be made to lose it all. I’m tired of me. Like last time this was triggered by N's health, like in November the pneumonia. When I worry more about her (about this past cath's rejection result of 1b) I start moping and can't get ungrumpy and today trumps all the grumpy days since last week. I don't want to be this way. I don't want to be me.

hospital hangover

2007-04-18T09:32:00.000-04:00

My 4yo and I got back from Philadelphia at 10 last night. This morning I woke up with what I call a hangover, from the drive, from the exhausting day at the hospital, the time away from home. My legs and arms hurt from the drive, that’s normal and to be expected, but my hands/wrists are sore, too, from steering against strong winds. That was very stressy on the way up Monday morning (not to mention the rain and sleet during the last hour!). It was also a little windy on the way down last night. Going away for two days, even in the best of circumstances, is disorienting. But when you go more or less involuntarily and spend the time in a weatherless environment with artificial light such as the hospital it’s even more so. A friend called on my way out of the hospital to find out if maybe next week we could get together and I couldn’t tell her. When you’re in the hospital there is no such thing as ‘next week’. There are no Tuesdays or April 24ths. It’s a bit like Doctor Who’s Tardis, the police box that’s really a huge spaceship inside. Two days in a hospital are larger than what you can see on the calendar. So, now that I’m back I have to find the tiny spot in my calendar where all of this stuff managed to fit, then realize what the day after is called (Wednesday, April 18th) and then work my way back into real life from there. It’s also strange that not everything changed. There are the empty folded up cardboard boxes of food that I folded and put in the recycling this weekend. How strange. Luckily, Cinderella DID take care of stuff while I was out. The stairs are vacuumed, and the towels, rugs and rags, evidence of a disastrous sink overflow upstairs and onto the main floor (me thinking to self on Sunday “why does it sound like someone is showering in the dining room?”...) are gone. And Cinderella aka my reliable wonderful husband kept the kitchen and the rest of the house as spotless as I left it (it was only so spotless because I had hosted a Pampered Chef party on Saturday…). So, now I just have to eliminate the mess I brought into the house. How is it that even just a two day trip produces so much baggage? Food bag, cooler, toy bag, bag for clothes, plastic bin from the hospital, free-floating syringes, meds, jackets, stuffed animals, empty water bottles, two travel mugs, receipts tossed onto the passenger seat to get to cash at the toll quickly, MESSY BLABLABLA…

Oh yea, and the procedure she had went well. She had to have morphine for the first time during recovery because she was thrashing about so badly and had to keep her body flat for 6 hours so she wouldn’t start bleeding at the entry site… Then, after several hours of sleeping it all off, she was in a cranky way delightful and hungry and relatively easily entertained.

I've lost my glasses

2007-04-12T10:23:00.000-04:00

I am so bummed! I lost my glasses, I'm pretty sure for good. Last week, when we went to the Cherry Blossoms they must have fallen out of my purse. I have been griping about the stupid pink ones I'm wearing, incredulous over the fact that 8 or so years ago I picked them as a back-up pair and thought they were cute. Right now, all I see is that they are basically the color of my over-pink cheeks and too undefined. This all occurred to me when I saw my profile picture while chatting on yahoo. WHAAAA!

My lost glasses:

My pink back-ups pair:

This weekend, I'm going shopping for glasses. I deserve it.

poem "Before I was a Mom"

2007-04-11T12:17:00.000-04:00

I was just sent this from one of my heart lists.

Before I was a Mom
I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby.
I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.
Before I was a Mom - I had never been puked on.
Pooped on.
Chewed on.
Peed on.
I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.
I slept all night.
Before I was a Mom
I never held down a screaming child so doctors could do tests.
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.
Before I was a Mom
I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to
Put them down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I
Couldn't stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.
Before I was a Mom -
I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.
I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.
I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so
Important and happy.
Before I was a Mom -
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every
10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache,
The wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much, before I was a Mom.

RIP pottery

2007-04-08T10:35:00.000-04:00

I love to paint pottery. For a while, when my firstborn was a newborn, I would go once a week to paint my own pottery. I gave most of it away as gifts. Then he learned to crawl and my budget caught up with me... But I still like to go occasionally, and produce some things that make me feel happy while making them as well as while using them.

The first serious breakage was a platter. It was a August 2002 Anniversary gift; I'd be alowed to spend a considerable amount of money on it. The time to actually do it was Mother's Day 2003. We suspect it was our then three year old who broke it. But it could be my grown up husband who framed the child. Who knows. (Not really. He just made it look suspicious when he said he didn't remember breaking it. !!)

We had my pottery lady glue it but we didn't know that you can't actually use it after glueing it and it shattered in hubby's hands when he did dishes.

The next thing was a spoon rest, where the better side was actually the underside. I had meticulously done the flowers, then the green around them (which is harder than painting green first, then flowers on top). And when there was the underside, all blank and asking to be filled I quickly doodled something and ended up liking that look better than the flowers. I'm usually my best when doing things free-flowing, without penciled plan, just quickly letting go of an idea onto the material.

That's when I learned that using regular glue, or crazy glue, or any household glue will ruin your chances to actually glue it together professionally. Something about the silicone making it not adhere to the pottery's pores or something. RIP spoonrest. Don't know how he did it, only that hubby has a way with my pottery.

Then came the four name plaques. I had actually waited with my daughter's tile until after she was born because she was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect (CHD) in utero and I wasn't sure we'd have her around after birth. Then, when she survived the first surgery, I realized I had to hurry up and make the tile, in case she wouldn't survive the second surgery at 4 months, so she would be eternalized in the tile. A bit morbid for some, maybe, but very valid thinking for me. (Her favorite color happens to actually be red, and being the 'heart child' the heart remains her symbol.)

I don't remember how they got broken, but by then I knew that you need to use real pottery glue and brought the pieces back for the lady of the place where I had painted it to glue it for me; painstakingly, in many, many pieces. Thank you, my wonderful pottery lady!

Then came my mugs. I guess this is the place to mention that the pottery you paint yourself isn't very sturdy stoneware; it is very fragile and chips easily. I think hubby chipped the first one within weeks of bringing it home. Later, he finished the job by totally breaking the mug to the left. It had a cute heart on the inside bottom. Sniff. The mug to the right is still with us, albeit with chips galore.

Finally, my favorite piece. I painted it to replace the spoonrest. A small heart dish, since hearts are special to me now (the way frogs or roosters are to others). I have a thing for complementary colors, especially purple and green, together with blue. Those colors are just heaven for me. I used the dish daily, sometimes to put vitamins in and keep them from rolling away before the rightful owner would find it. But mostly for spoons and cooking utensils.

It's nice that it only broke into two pieces, because that means it can be glued. But I won't be able to use and wash it. So I'll be on a spoonrest quest once more. The way it broke was somewhat freakish, like in the 'Final Destination' movies, where they die because it's their turn, no matter how they try to prevent it. Hubby took the microwave cover that is tucked away behind the microwave/stove, knocked down a crystal that I use as a candle holder on the back ledge of the stove which fell onto the spoonrest. Crystal intact, spoonrest broken. Why, WHY!?? Why couldn't the damn crystal break instead?? I cried. We actually had a fight, because he thought I shouldn't be mad at him since it was an accident. But I was mad. Mad that none of the things I love are allowed to survive in this house! He doesn't just break the pottery I make, but also pottery that is purchased and means something to me (like our wedding mugs from that German pottery. See that pottery blog to know what style I'm talking about: http://beemajabee.blogspot.com/2006/09/pottery.html)

Well, time to move on, I guess. I have to say the things that are decoration and don't mean much to me he doesn't break, since we don't 'use' them on a daily basis. Yay for that. This wasn't supposed to be a rip into hubby blog, but a RIP pottery blog. Oh, well, I guess I could have seen that coming... It is almost comical how the stuff comes to expire. And it serves as a lesson to let go of material things, no matter how special they might be.

Time to quote my favorite bible quote. (Yes, just because I'm a non-believer doesn't mean I don't appreciate some bits of wisdom!)

All things have their season, and in their times all things pass under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted. A time to kill, and a time to heal. A time to destroy, and a time to build. A time to weep, and a time to laugh. A time to mourn, and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather. A time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces. A time to get, and a time to lose. A time to keep, and a time to cast away. A time to rend, and a time to sew. A time to keep silence, and a time to speak. A time of love, and a time of hatred. A time of war, and a time of peace. (Ecclesiastes 3, 1-8)

homeless shelter update

2007-03-27T17:18:00.000-04:00

So, Monday I decided to fill out the homeless prevention shelter form for volunteers and commit to one or two times a week. Makes me feel good to go beyond 'the thought that counts'. The questionnaire made me feel a bit stupid, like I really didn't have skills that apply. I don't know anything legal, I suck with numbers so accounting isn't the best idea, I am not a 'children' person, etc. I do know that I am good at organizing, and talking to people, and cleaning up, I can run errands,... I did have some jobs that qualify me for some things, but at that moment all I could come up with was question marks.

Someone called me back today, and it turns out she read the blog I wrote Sunday because I guess she arranged it that any blog with the words 'homeless shelter' raises a flag and she reads them. That was half cool and half creepy, because now she knows my inside motivation, opinion, or whatever, and has a better insight why I'm there than you can just get across by having a brief conversation. So I went back there today and it got me excited about getting started. I have to make sure I don't over-commit, so I don't have to then step back and say I can't do it this often. I worry about how it might be emotionally draining, but I can't wait to learn the ins and outs. It might be hard not to be there as much as possible, like with knitting and scrapbooking and everything else I like to jump into things with both feet. I'll have to go there first to see what can be of help, so I know what I'll actually do there. Also, suddenly I feel it drawing me in, and I wonder and hope if THIS is my calling? Lately, I've felt like I'm waiting for something, a job, or something. Don't know. I've resisted other things before; helping parents of special needs children get the right information in Northern VA was one thing that I realized I don't want to do so I never got the training, although it was offered. We'll see where this will lead me.

homeless shelter

2007-03-25T19:51:00.000-04:00

This week, I got one of many emails from the church I no longer go to because I stopped going since I don't believe in God or Jesus. This one was about who would bring what food to the winter shelter. That's the reason I still get the emails. At least I can do a tiny something. I signed up for salad. Today, I found out that it wasn't the homeless prevention center I usually help with parts of a meal twice a year (which makes me feel aweful each time, for doing so little for something so big, so important!) This was a different place that is only open from October through March 31 from 7pm to 7am. The other time of year you can go in during only a few hours to shower and get a break.

I was not prepared for that shelter. It wasn't the clean, friendly shelter that much reminded me of the Ronald McDonald Houses I've been to. First off, it was tucked away behind a bus terminal, impersonal and sort of far off the track, yet still ridiculously close to the fancy new townhouses being built in our area. The door was locked and I found myself waiting to be let in for 10 or so minutes among homeless people. The guilt for being a 'have' as opposed to a 'have-not' was uncomfortable. I felt like I stood out like a sore thumb. The unasked questions were embarrassing, I had "why are you here?" on my tongue, wanting to hear what chain of unfortunate events had derailed that one person from a life we call normal so he ended up here. The man had informed me that they wouldn't open till 7, and when I asked how long he'd been coming here he said 2 weeks. I had so many questions in my head. I'd have liked to know if he'd only been here 2 weeks because he moves around, and if so where did he come from and where is he going? The one question I did ask which exposed me as the peripherally involved person I am was "How come I didn't know this shelter existed?? I've lived here 6 years!" The guilt was so palpable. I felt guilty for having a measly salad, in a xl ziploc bag, not even a dish (I didn't have anything big enough for 20) and two dressings; 'lite', like homeless people need to watch their calories?! That's all I had on hand from my stash, feeling guilty for giving one large but slightly used bottle from my fridge because I hadn't thought to buy the dressing when I bought the lettuce. Adding to the discomfort were two ladies from church who said they missed me and how come I stopped going. Suddenly I found myself explaining that I didn't believe in Jesus anymore, with them and some homeless people listening. Everything out of my mouth felt like an insult to the people who have real worries, real life tragedies going on, while I'm griping (or no longer griping) about faith. (I can't explain that anyway, all I know it's not doubts anymore, it's absolute certainty.) When a person came to open and I asked that same question "How come I didn't know this shelter existed?? I've lived here 6 years!" he said that it had been there a while. He only gave me his first name. I should have asked for numbers so I'd better be able to be involved. I should have stayed. I should have asked that first person I talked to his name, should have shaken his hand and given him my name. I should have treated him more like human to human than the volunteer versus the beneficiary. I considered asking "What else can I do?" but once inside the smell of dirty worn clothes (was that urine smell in the building, or in the clothes?) was so overwhelming, the small size for what was provided (kitchen, a large area with beds, a shelf with videos, all in one large room, with bathrooms separate) was depressing, and the guilt and grief over these derailed lives so suffocating that I only dropped off the food and left fairly quickly.

First thing I did when I got back home was hug both my kids and cried. I explained vaguely why I was sad. Then I went online to see what the volunteering options are. The truth is, I consider myself an empath and don't think I have the emotional strength to tap into other people's grief continuously. I like uplifting people, making a difference. I really need to find the right thing to do that won't always leave me so guilty and full of grief. My guilt regarding homeless people is so strong that I couldn't get myself to drop off the hats I had bought on sale with the two coats I had because I hadn't done so during the really cold temperatures this winter. Why didn't I?? So I never brought them. This really weighs down my heart. I want to be so much more than I am. I should start by finally not just filling out that volunteer application at the homeless prevention center but actually bringing it back and sign up for a specific time. If that doesn't work for me emotionally I can still change it. At least I'll have tried and have a better idea what helps and what's just arrogant or detached good intention.

random tears

2007-03-24T10:55:00.000-04:00

I've already cried a couple of times today and I'm perfectly happy otherwise. The first time was when I listened to Collin Raye's "Love, me" in the car.

It's a typical country song with a story in it, where the original love note written by 'her' when they were both youngens ends up being said at her funeral by 'him', the grandfather, with this message:

If you get there before I do, don't give up on me.I'll meet you when my chores are through;I don't know how long I'll be.But I'm not gonna let you down, darling wait and see.And between now and then, till I see you again,I'll be loving you. Love, me.

It's not like I hadn't heard the song before, it's on my iPod, for crying out loud! (er, well, I did not cry out loud...) But it was sappy and hitting a mark, mixing the feeling that it seems true at times that there is a heaven, with the rational thought that most the time I don't believe 'we'll meet again after'. I guess that made me sad.

The second time my eyes welled up is when I went online to read about Tracy Chapman. I'd been listening to the old albums, the debut album and "crossroads". I wanted to see what she'd been up to, what made her write that first album etc. I read some interviews and was getting misty-eyed with the memory: this young singer/songwriter going from small venues to a crowd of 72,000 people for Nelson Mandela's 70th birthday tribute in Wembley; I read how overwhelmed she was, and how 600 million people saw it no tv, and I remember that the people who saw it had this clear sense of witnessing greatness of someone who had up to that point been a no name. I remember being stunned by her.

No, it's NOT that time of the month, thank you very much! I didn't say they were good reasons for crying. Just random tears.

my husband loves me

2007-03-19T21:33:00.000-04:00

How do I know this? He doesn't mind that for the winter months my grooming skills hibernate and I grow a 1 inch beard under my arms. (I've actually shaved in honor of the first day of spring coming up. Spring, I'm ready. Bring on the weather, I'll bring the tank tops!)

When, utterly beaten and spent after a Zumba class (https://www.zumba.com/index.cfm,) I ask him to help make me shower he doesn't leave it at "go take a shower". He fulfills my wish to herd me to the bedroom, take off my stinky-in-the-crotch gym clothes and makes sure the water is nice and warm AND gets the towel ready.

He is fully aware that I have to do something just a tad over the top at all times. (If it's not scrapbooking it's reading, if it's not reading...) And doesn't mind. He knows I'm crazy. That's why he married me. (I remind him of that fact frequently.) He knows I haven't read much lately because I'm hung up on knitting. I brought my knitting bag up before the shower and he was joking:"You even knit at the gym? Now that IS pretty bad." He makes me laugh.

I love him, too. We haven't had a date in a long time and during a quiet moment this past weekend when the kids played elsewhere we cuddled up on the couch and imagined what we'd do if we had the freedom to do anything. For the most part, we just want to walk in the woods and be together. Or drive somewhere, without a goal, just keep going in one direction. He really is the best person I know and I can't wait to do all those things with him. I miss him when he's at work, or on the computer instead of with me. But when he's with me I have no problem just watching tv and not do anything together.

I love you!

toxic treasure

2007-03-15T23:17:00.000-04:00

This is what I received via UPS today:

No, no one in the family needs chemotherapy. This is the clear 'CAUTION' bag that holds the brown 'CAUTION' bag that holds the tub that contains the cream that costs $1000 that I've been holding my breath for over the past 6 months. It's the cream to get rid of the skin condition (molluscum) my daughter has. No, she does not have cancer. She is immune suppressed and this stuff is supposed to make her skin/body recognize that she's got an issue that won't go away on its own. It has worked wonders in immune suppressed HIV patients. No, she does not have HIV. Just a bout of the heart transplant....

I looked up 'cidofovir' online, and 'cyototoxic', and 'nephrotoxic'. The cidofovir they are talking about on the webpages though is IV medication at very high concentrations. This stuff we got is only at 0.5%. I have to remind myself of the low dosage my girl is exposed to. And me, for that matter! Only I will be handling it, both the children and even hubby have strict orders to stay away from it. For comic relief, or is it black humor in this case, at least we have help in the case of bio terrorism; this can be used in the case of smallpox.

Just this week I found out we WON'T have to pay for it. That was a huuuge relief. But opening it still felt aweful. Just because we're only paying $35 doesn't mean I don't understand the severity of resorting to this expensive, under these circumstances rare treatment. Hubby wasn't impressed at all. He did say "looks dangerous" but then he didn't understand why I was freaking out when I had to apply the stuff 'very scarcely'. "Nobody touch the tub! Nobody move too close while I do this!" It felt like a mixture of holding a very fragile crystal from the royal treasury somewhere, too expensive to hold. And like holding toxic waste, too contaminated to hold. After I used it I wondered if regular soap does this justice, or do I need to double-scrub? What if that stuff gets into my eye? What if she accidentally touches it and then gets it in her mouth? (Do we need a bio containment room and remove all our clothes?... Trying for comic relief again. I really am not laughing though. I am freaked out!) All these questions will be asked tomorrow. I'm sure over time and towards the bottom of the tub I (and especially my precious girl) will get used to the procedure, to the sustance being in our lives. But for now it's really a big deal to me. And I hold highest hopes that this tub (or the one after this one) means it's the last we see of molluscum ("polka dots") on our little girl.

creative streak

2007-03-11T12:46:00.000-04:00

I've been really in the mood to create, to make, to produce. While I realized I need to make a blog about it I was looking at one of my favorite creations, my 4 year old daughter, and thought how wonderful to have someone like her, unique and adorable and mine. But I digress. Here are the things I've done this week:

Yesterday, I finished a hat, my first 'non-scarf' knitting project (I made three easy scarves within the past few weeks). The yarn was a pain to knit with, but the product is very forgiving of mistakes. I even had a runaway stitch after I was finished, I just sewed around till it was approximately fixed. I'll make a matching keyhole scarf next. And I am currently working my courage up to knitting socks. When we had to knit them in 5th grade I swore I would never do that again. But just maybe I'll survive this time. There are too many darn cute yarns out there waiting to be made into socks, okay!?? Gotta pick up that book about doing it with two circular needles first though.

The soft and fuzzy hat:

two with seed stitch, one just knitted all the way. Seed stitch is my favorite pattern as of now. I'm sure once I do more demanding projects that'll change.

Next, I have been working on a wooden piece with acrylic paint to make a welcome sign in the style of Transylvania Saxons (which is where my father's family's side is from, yes, I actually AM a vampire!) as it could be found on wedding chests, hutches, church benches, etc. This is what I got so far:

We also went to a 'paint your own pottery' place yesterday where I did an egg (much to hubby's dismay, we were supposed to help the kiddos, not do our own piece... sorry, dude, you don't put a girl in a place like that and ask her to do only assistant work!). We'll pick up our pieces (the kids made mobiles) next weekend. The whole feeling of that day was like we were on vacation. Hubby had earned some extra money so we were entitled to spending more than we usually do. We painted, ate out, even had icecream, and included a nice stroll in Occoquan. Very picturesque! Incredibly, I forgot my camera, so I'll have to just write about the wonderful day we had. No proof. (I'll add pics of the finished product later.)

Last night I played around with paint shop pro, editing my lovely friend Bree's photo. That was fun.

May I point out that the blue on the top reminds me of Mona Lisa. And here is a 'the grudge' version I didn't put in that final work, too spooky:

And today we're going to pick up some nice round rocks out of the creek bed behind our house, paint them white and then pastel like Easter eggs. My son can't wait to pick them, my daughter can't wait to paint them, and I am happy to have another outlet to try things out on. (I'll add pics of the finished products later.)

I think that covers it. But it doesn't cover the itch for more, how I'm full of desire to make something, and love that knitting has the instant gratification. I love that I have a portable paint project, as opposed to that mural I did 5 or so years ago. And that there is so much more to be done, patterns to be found for knitting, yarns to be oogled over, etcetera etcetera.

coming off my caffeine-induced people-driven high

2007-02-26T20:25:00.000-05:00

Wow, what a whirlwind day! We drove to a friend 30 minutes away to have a playdate that turned out into an impromptu playgroup, with three of my dear friends gathered with their children, enjoying the snowday and having very agreeable children for a whole afternoon. We were having so much fun we didn't notice it was time for me to leave to help unload the organic buying club truck (my first time). [I can't wait for that watch I ordered in the mail!] By the time I left I had about three coffees and four sodas with caffeine in me. When I got to the house where we were unloading I was high from the caffeine and from having had a great time with girlfriends. I drove into (not literally, but parked right by) a cluster of people, many of whom I had never seen, and started chattering incessantly, getting cold and getting restless waiting for the late truck. So I got my knitting stuff, and bounced around in the spot I was standing in, covering all kinds of subjects about me, myself, and I and stuff, and things, and general topics, asking people their names and basically acting like a jukebox ball. When the truck got there I decided to run between the truck and the garage to warm up, and because I couldn't help it, the caffeine made me do it. It was great fun to meet new people, to do something together, get something worthwhile done. I had some very meaningful conversations in between boxes, which is a bit unbelievable. Instant bonding, I guess from one crunchy granola person to another. To be truthful, I was a bit embarrassed by my inability to shut up, or by the lack of barrier between thought and word out of my mouth, I was just literally spilling my thoughts non-stop. Those people who've never seen me must have thought I'm a crazy German flake, and my friends must have thought I'm showing off. Even once I got home I couldn't stop moving and talking, and now, that I'm finally coming off it I'm a bit shaky and very beat from the physical aspect of the day (yesterday's shoveling combined with today's box-running...).

Oh, and coming home is a whole story in itself. I hadn't re-confirmed/re-informed hubby that I was helping with the truck today and when there was no note and I didn't answer the cell phone he got worried. He got home early and I got home VERY late. He called the only friend whose number he has, who told him I was at that other friend's house, who told him I had already left to go to another friend's house to unload a truck. Before he got to any of the friends' numbers he had called the hospital to make sure nothing was wrong with us, especially our daughter. Poor guy! I'm usually good with laying out the day that same day on the phone, but with running around from the morning on I just didn't bother leaving a message. (Calling him without leaving that message had him worry, too, apparently. Well, I know better now. ALWAYS leave a message!)

So, now I literally feel like I'm coming off a drug, or being drunk, or being out of it somehow, and it's so embarrassing, like when you were making a fool of yourself when you got drunk. Afterwards you wonder: What did I say? Why on earth did I say that? Although it's also true that getting drunk just brings out the real you in a stronger form, geesh, that real me is scary chatty blunt loud etc. But I had a real blast, can't wait for next time. Hopefully it'll still be fun un-high. (That's funny.)

This is the type of sled I used to ride

2007-02-26T09:24:00.000-05:00

Yes, yes, I DO have a chip on my shoulder for the stylish sleds I used to ride. None of that plastic trash can lid stuff. THIS is riding in style! Yep. And no, I can't afford one of these at this point. Then again, they are a pain to pull back up the hill. Besides, if you go down a particularly vicious hill - imagine flying through the air for many, many seconds - the sled CAN actually crack; this is really rare, though, since they ARE made very durable and sturdy. Of course. It's German craftsmanship. (insert chip on the shoulder here). And who wants to have a piece of wood sticking through their ribs? Well, maybe my vampire slayer friend Lisa likes that concept. Me? Not so much.

snow day

2007-02-25T20:45:00.000-05:00

I am REALLY done with the snow. Can we be done, please?? It looked beautiful today, and I enjoyed shoveling it, it was the perfect shoveling snow, snowman snow, snowball snow. The flakes were huge and easy to catch with your tongue. It was a Winter Wonderland. The mildness made it easy to be outside for a while. We had great family time. It was all perfect for a Sunday. But I don't want any more school canceled, plans rescheduled, my weekday life put on hold due to snow, okay?!? I wish this county wouldn't cancel school because there were flakes in the vicinity of about 24 hours. The roads are cleared, can't we just please move on? I can't wait for spring!

cranky without sleep

2007-02-25T06:18:00.000-05:00

It is weekend and I can't stand to be up early. Went to bed midnight, I think, and my girl came to our bed too early (most weekday mornings it is around 6, after my husband is up, which is perfect, enough room for a 4yo and me), making it harder for me to sleep with my very achy shoulder (don't know what the deal is with my shoulder). It made my husband fussy a bit, too. Around 5 I realized she kept scratching herself but was too out of it to get up and get her relief. Her constant scratching was a background nuisance, then at 5:45 my son decided he wants to be part of the family bed, very restless, as usual, which is why he's not normally allowed (and usually doesn't ask). After he gives me a loud "I love you" and some more tossing, at 6 I finally tell him he needs to be done and go downstairs. That's when my girl has to use the bathroom, both pee and BM, which means I have to see to it that she washes her hands. She hears her brother downstairs and wants to go down; that means my night is over because they are prone to fighting, so the sleeping in thing doesn't work when both are awake. What basically made me stay up for good is that I yelled at her (because she decided to stay up and needed to wash hands - great reason; poor, poor girl!) and I heard her go downstairs with small sobs. Her brother asked "What's wrong?" and she responded "Mommy said a bad word at me." So I went downstairs, washed her hands, apologized, talked a bit and then went back upstairs considering sleeping in the kids' room so they wouldn't wake daddy But by then I was too worked up to lay down again. I guess our unwritten policy is that one parent is 'on call', and since he was up with them yesterday, that means it's my turn today. Yesterday sucked, though, because they kind of started too early, too, and were loud enough to make my sleeping in time restless. I think I'm spoiled when it comes to my husband, I always claim the Saturday sleep-in although HE is the one who gets up at 5 every day and is dead tired by the end of the week. I'm a wuss when it comes to sleep, always can't hang, all our lives together I've always needed more. But now that he's getting older, he isn't doing so well on just 4 or 5 hours, so I need to cut him some slack, give him some sleep-in time, and arrange for naps on weekends. I hate to see him so tired all the time, so I should be less selfish and give him the sleep he needs. I realize that the day both our children are old enough to just always sleep through the night in their own beds and take care of themselves in the morning so we can sleep in will be the day that I mourn having little ones to cuddle up to in bed! Now I can't believe that the half hour I've been doodling around on the computer I didn't hear a peep from them! I should have tried to go back to bed. But by the time I would have fallen asleep again they'd be up here for sure. Okay, time to start my day.

short story

2007-02-14T12:53:00.000-05:00

So, because a MySpace friend of mine writes her own stuff and years ago my father said I should write a story (about how the announcer of the trainstation across from my apartment drove me so crazy that I had to kill her) I decided to get creative. I wrote this this morning, I might have to edit it once I read it after a day or two. This story is my act of revenge on my neighbor who is rude to me. Her whole family gets on my nerves. They're weird.

The hills of Rippon Landing

The story started way before my time, about 250 years ago, when the hills here were still covered with trees, forests of trees, not little tree lines and patches between developments as they are now. Most everybody who lived in these hills was either working directly for the Blackburn family at the Rippon Lodge, or in their tobacco plantations, or down at the port to export the tobacco. So did Althea’s family. Althea lived in a cabin with her younger sister Jane and their parents. One day, Althea’s best friend Cecile came by, having finished her chores early. Jane and Althea, on the other hand, still needed to see to some mending before they were allowed to go. Their mother had left specific instructions before leaving for the Lodge. Well, long story short, Cecile and Jane decide to leave Althea to the chores and locked her into the cabin. Althea was furious, threw the clothing she was to mend across the room and ended up burning the cabin down and, unable to get out because she was locked in, burnt to death. She has been haunting the hills of Rippon Landing ever since.

I had an uncomfortable feeling from the very beginning. I didn’t think anything of it since I didn’t like the idea that we had moved this much closer to Kevin’s ex that lived in the Washington, DC Metro area in the first place. He wanted to easier be able to see his daughter from a previous marriage. Only after we moved in did we hear the story of how the people who had lived here before us were a dilapidated bunch. The neighbors were real glad to be rid of them and see us move in. The husband apparently beat the wife, they both drunk and/or took drugs, the kids often wearing the same clothes for days. As it turns out, he didn’t use to be abusive until Althea got to him, to get to the wife. The thing is, Althea has it in her mind that whatever woman she is around should be her best, closest pal, since Cecile had so viciously betrayed her. Only, most living people don’t WANT to be closest pals with an evil spirit. You get my point. I guess in a way that family before us got lucky. He got arrested and she and the kids moved out; she survived.

It didn’t take Althea long to make her first move. It took me a while to realize what was happening, that there was a pattern to the weird ‘accidents’. I got an invitation from a neighbor who seemed nice enough, friendly although a bit on the loud side, both her and her kids. I had stuck the invitation to the fridge with a magnet. The next thing you know all four burners of the stove top were on, with the invitation that was lying on top now catching on fire. I put it out quickly and went to confront the kids but they were both engrossed in a movie and swore they hadn’t been in the kitchen at all. Things kept escalating. I was on the phone with a girlfriend of mine when Kevin suddenly seriously cut himself while cutting up vegetables on the cutting board. Later he said he didn’t remember how the knife got to cut him all the way around the wrist. It took me months to put the pieces together. When I had people over things would be okay, but as soon as they left Althea would think of something to hurt the kids, or Kevin, or me. Then one day she started to speak to me. She threatened that if I tried to leave she would kill the kids and Kevin. From that time on I could actually see her. When I was about to leave the house she would stand at the top of the stairs, a big cold grin on her face, pretending she was about to shove Kevin down the stairs. So every day, I came home as quickly as possible, never staying outside long, avoided eye contact with the neighbors. I felt terrible for pretending I didn’t hear their greetings. My cheeks stung because it made me feel so ashamed for my behavior. But I had to make sure that my family was safe. We had bought a small dog so the kids could get outside walking him, since Althea didn’t like to see us spend a lot of time outside. I kept thinking, can’t people tell that we don’t look happy? Don’t they think it’s weird that the children are rarely outside to play? Wasn’t our misery obvious on the outside? Our sex life suffered because Althea would see to it that either Kevin or I had horrible stomach cramps in the middle of intercourse. Something about a ghost churning your intestines with her invisible hands that doesn’t agree with your body…Since we didn’t really have any quality time alone we ended up working opposite shifts. I liked that this way the kids were never in the house by themselves. When I went to work I made sure the dog came with me.

I suppose Althea was growing more vicious around Christmas time, when my loud neighbor greeted me louder than ever saying “Hello, NITA!” I was caught of guard and looked at her, then realized that I shouldn’t have. So I looked away, hoping Althea hadn’t noticed, knowing full well that she always does. The neighbor said in a stunned tone “So you DO ignore me!” It was all I could do NOT to explain myself. Tears stung my face. Once I came back into the house I found Althea furiously pulling everything out of the kitchen cabinets, smashing everything. She screamed, inside my head, the way she always communicated with me, that if I were to talk or look at that woman again she would tear everyone to pieces, from the dog to Kevin to the kids. That’s when I finally made up my mind to leave. Somehow she sensed it and made it very clear that if I wasn’t going to return from our Christmas trip to Kevin’s family down south we would still suffer because the curse was already on me. To prove it she got into my head, made me see images of the woman who used to live here before me. What I saw was horrible: the husband was still in jail, the wife in a straight jacket in a padded cell, and the kids in a foster home, abused even worse than before. I made Kevin cut the trip short. When we came home I found a Christmas card from that same loud neighbor, and a little gift of tissues, saying she apologizes if she inadvertently offended me. When Althea saw the card it was her final straw. It had snowed while we had been out so I had to clear the sidewalk. Althea ensured it was the last thing I ever did. Although there were no icy patches anywhere I slipped and fell so violently that my spine cracked, paralyzing me. I had to watch helplessly as the sharp blade of the snow shovel landed on my neck with such force that it decapitated me. So, here I am, with Althea now. The only consolation I have is that she is leaving my family alone. Both the kids and Kevin are fine. Even the dog is fine. Althea got what she wanted. Someone that would never leave her.

my healingway healing way

2007-02-12T16:39:00.000-05:00

I had my birthday party this weekend. My friend Bree had the idea of making something like a blessingway for giving strength to a friend. We had done a blessingway several times for friends about to give birth intended to infuse all one's strength and positive energy and experience in childbirth into this mother-to-be. It should be an uplifting get-together to lift up the person in need of spiritual, emotional healing. I totally grabbed that idea and claimed it for myself. (Sorry for the theft, Bree-dear!) So I invited my girlfriends to be part of my healingway birthday, a party to lift my spirits because I had been blue. Since I'm feeling the post traumatic stress of having a child with a life-threatening condition that has been close to death on a few occasions I was definitely a good candidate for healing. Bree organized the bits that needed coordinating. It was only low-key as in we didn't 'smoke', er, burn sage or any herbs (or anything for that matter!) but we had plenty of wonderful things to eat, wine to drink and my girls had plenty of time to tell me why they love me. I was originally worried because the turn-out was drastically reduced from initial positive RSVPs. But it turned out the smaller group made it that much more an intimate exchange. Talk about a Love FEST!

Basically, I think EVERY one of my girlfriends should have beads from each friend as a reminder that we mean so much to each other. We should write down what we love about that friend, what first drew us to them, their favorite trait. Everyone should feel the love and hear those positive thoughts that I felt and heard that night.

It's kind of hard to sum up what my friends told me about me. I think the bottom line was that I am honest, full of love, and real. I was basking in the love given to me. As I write this, I am listening to the playlist Bree made for me, full of strong women and girly songs and messages for me. (I had to replace that Salt'n'Pepa song with Push it and Let's talk about sex, Bree -hehehehehe-, but other than that I got it covered now, thank you so much!) It was a lot of fun to see me through my women friends' eyes. Wow. What a cool picture they painted. They definitely described a woman I'd love to be friends with. A keeper. Sniff. That was me they were talking about.

Once I have that bracelet made, with a bead from each friend I will just have to look at it to remember that I am worthy. That whatever it is that I don't like about me or my life doesn't mean anything on the scale of Maja's worth.

Here's the playlist that's about me:

I Am Not My Hair - India Arie & P!nk
Suddenly I see - KT Tunstall
Wide Open Spaces - Dixie CHicks
Like It Or Not - Madonna
Bitch - Meredith Brooks
Stupid Girls - P!nk
Conversations w/My 13yr Old Self - P!nk
Ain't Nuthin' but a She Thing - Salt-n-Pepa
This One's For The Girls - Martina McBride
32 Flavors - Ani DiFranco
Another Mystery - Dar Williams
Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield
Eagle When She Flies - Dolly Parton
What's Up - 4 Non Blondes
I Am Woman - Helen Reddy

What was funny is that some of my friends knew each other without knowing they each knew me. It felt a bit like the 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon. Listen up, people, I'm the new Kevin Bacon! And the girls commented that we should have a MajaSpace (instead if MySpace) so my girls could meet up there and exchange information easily. That felt neat. YES, the world DOES rotate around me! MWUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! It's all about love, dudes, all about love.

too cold!

2007-02-06T09:13:00.000-05:00

When I was doing our morning routine and looked at the thermometer I couldn't believe my eyes! It was 10 degrees Fahrenheit outside! Inside it was 63, which for a person who is comfortable at 68 to 70 is waaay too cold! I'm writing the blog because I want to mention that we have a stupid house. It's 25 years old, give or take, and has holes all over the place, leaking warm air out and letting cold air in.

hole#1: By the fireplace (which, I guess, would be hole#2) there is this vent that looks like A/C and heat, but is a direct link to the outside, without door or anything to stop the cold from coming in. This makes sense if you want to light the fireplace and not die from CO2 poisoning, but we aren't using the fireplace (we bought it with a cracked firebox and always thought we'd buy one later, when the money was right, HA!, that's never gonna happen). So yesterday I finally stuffed an old cut up pillow into the hole.

hole#2: The fireplace is finally blocked by a toy kitchen, thus letting less cold air in, but still some. (It's also nice not to have toddlers crawl into it anymore and come out looking like chimney sweeps! Yay for the toy kitchen!)

hole#3: the vent over the stove is really practical when you want to really get rid of kitchen odors and various smells that happen when you're cooking. But it's actually also a direct link to the outside with no way of closing it when you aren't cooking. This morning, the silverware out of the drawer was too cold to touch! And the butter that sits out on the counter so it's nice and soft was as cold as the refrigerated stuff!

hole#4: The bathroom on the main floor has a vent to the outside, which is nice, you don't have to have a stink in there, or open the window to get the job done, but you also can't shut it, and it doesn't have heat, so it's basically cold as an outhouse right now! I made the kids go upstairs to do their business.

STUPID HOLES!!
Not to mention all the cracks and inefficient seals in all windows and doors. We are basically heating our back and front yard, isn't that nice? I don't want to move. I just want the money to fix up the fixer-upper. Maybe someday...

blogs, journals & diaries

2007-02-02T16:28:00.000-05:00

I've been half a breath away from blogging all week because one night a song triggered the urge to dig into my diaries and I've been reading them since. My dearly beloved husband thinks it's a waste of time, but I can't stop because I want to know how it ends. I really dig this person that's telling her story of a 17, 18, 19 year old's perspective. Things I had long forgotten are in there. Detailed descriptions not only of how my day went and what tests I have to study for or all those conversations with people who tickled my fancy; but movie and book reviews, minute details of concerts. I had to come to the conclusion that I did more good reading of 'serious' books in those years than ever since. I had a hunger for so many topics! And certain aspects in life about relationships between women and men, feminism, racism - those years are apparently when I figured out most of the things that wired me for the rest of my life to be crunchy granola, feminist, artistic, or whatever else I am now. I was way more political and engaged in issues than these days. I am extremely proud of who I am. Knowing where I have been, where I was half a lifetime ago makes me appreciate, yes love the person I am now. Every thing in life, the grief, the joy, disappointments and good things, all of them were worth it and made me who I am. I am glad to know me, and I am glad I can, indirectly, pick the brain of the teenager in me. I love me!

cyclical blogger

2007-01-23T19:07:00.000-05:00

Looking at the dates of the blogs it would seem that I only blog when I'm on the period. How sad! Makes it seem less valid, since the emotions are hormonally driven and don't necessarily represent how I feel most of the month.

I DO seem to have a 'talk-about-wanting-a-baby' week or time of my life going on though. I can't invalidate the whole idea, although I've also snapped out of it and recognized that 'we' had a vasectomy for a reason, this wasn't a fluke, and not by some random feeling. We chose not to have any more children for various reasons, and even if now I'm increasingly interested in the fact that I have 10 or so years of fertility left it doesn't change the fact that my husband is far from interested. That's why in many email signatures I add him as "wife of [name], the balanced one".

I've been sappier about him, if that's possible (my girlfriends want to gag, throw him out, or throw me out, just stop with how great he is already!). I just see left and right how husbands can turn out and am aware how lucky I am, or how well we communicate, or what incredibly amazing circumstances put him from the US into my small hometown into the dance club that I was NOT a regular in... What are the chances of that!?? I keep asking myself. I don't like anyone else's husband, or mostly so. Then again, the downside of how great mine is is that you'd think if he's so perfect, how come I can't deal with what little he leaves me to gripe about?? If he helps in the household, is generous with time for myself, supports my scrapbooking frenzy and loves the same tv shows I love (he would NEVER say he 'loves' something, he only loves me and the kids, all else is just stuff, and he doesn't 'love stuff'... SEE, isn't he perfect??) and is a terrific father, then what the hell is there to be whiny and overwhelmed about? Whatever.

I think it has to do with the fact that I'm only happy when I'm not happy. I do better miserable. Or something like that. But I've been really good lately. Except, I guess, on the period... ;)

just say no

2007-01-17T13:33:00.000-05:00

I'm making a list to put on my fridge why...

I DON'T NEED ANY MORE BABIES:

v would have to be reversed - surgery for hubby, too expensive, painful, etc
increased chance of illness for the baby
conflict if my 4yo girl has a hospitalization - what am I going to do with the baby??!?
another carseat for six more years
no sleep
diapers (probably even cloth, due to my guilty conscience, extra laundry, ugh)
less time for the kids
less quality time with hubby
less time for myself: I can't go to the gym when I want, can't scrapbook when I want
with breastfeeding controlled by the child, I might go insane with an ornery toddler
pregnancy weight gain (history of 45 lbs and 60lbs each isn't very encouraging for future efforts to eat well)
pregnancy symptoms: I suck 'on hormones', and I'd be "on" all the time
more messes to clean
more toys to deal with
my youngest' jealousy
I like it neat, and I couldn't do dishes/clean when I want
I already can't deal with laundry, that would get even worse with newborn laundry added

I am not allowed to make a "pro" list. It just might outweigh all the other stuff. This list is to keep me happy and from having baby regrets and jealousy over friends who are pregnant left and right.

sunburn in January

2007-01-06T16:39:00.000-05:00

Today the high was 72 degrees F, incredibly warm, and wonderful! The sky was blue, and we took advantage of the weather by going to a local park, walking along the water and cleaning up trash. I had been yearning to do this with our kids for years, now they're finally old enough to do it, to listen to instructions, and get a kick out of their accomplishment. It's sad how many plastic bags we filled on a relatively small strip of nature. We finished off by going to the playground, where my six year old son was brave enough to play frisbee with a family of - all but one child -older people. The golden sun made everything so peaceful and serene. I'm exhaling and inhaling happiness just by bringing the image back. Although I did put my daily moisturizer with spf 20 on my cheeks are now red and tight from the sun exposure. (The rest of the gang, as usual, got away scotch free!) We did see a snake, which freaked me out a bit, in the warmer season we have to be careful to go ahead of the kids before they can pick up trash, but I think it was a harmless watersnake.

When we got home I found a gift package from my son's godmother at the door, a gift subscription to a Creative Memories scrapbooking magazine from one of my best friends, and a new year's note from a new friend that said "I'm glad we know each other". I share the feeling, and it makes me warm and fuzzy inside. It felt like everybody was giving me love. What a wonderful feeling!

raw nerves, sad heart or just the plain stupid period!

2006-12-21T17:06:00.000-05:00

Man, I'm having a bad day! I've been crampy and moody from the get-go. Then, in light of the fact that a friend is in the hospital with her baby (pneumonia, sound familiar?) I'm having all kinds of falling-apart issues. I think I felt that when that just happened to me in November, I'd have liked to be treated like a Queen for what my girl and I had to go through. Noone sent a card, or flowers, or a balloon. Noone visited (it was too far, because, that's our luck.) I wanted a symbol of acknowledgement that that had happened. Getting the group together for flowers for that friend doesn't make much sense, as I realize in the email discussion today, because it would open up opportunities for someone else getting neglected at a later point and not getting their due flowers or whatever. Well, actually, that someone was me, a month ago.

Then the bunches of articles pertaining to children with similar fates in my inbox. I usually don't mind but today they are just digging away at a shaky foundation of nerves. I normally like to share those stories that are so similar to mine.

http://http://www.bentoncourier.com/articles/2006/12/14/news/31snews.txt

http://www.ktuu.com/Global/story.asp?S=5832133

http://www.ktuu.com/Global/story.asp?S=5837618

Griping about my own issues makes me feel selfish. But right now, I feel like "Where is MY newspaper article about what we've been through??" Where is my life line that takes care of us? In a local Hope for the Holidays radio program they didn't pick my daughter's story as worthy of help. I'm mad that the grief and heartache didn't make the cut in their sobstories on air. When still not a week goes by when I don't cry about it. And the bills with the insurance company switch are really starting to scare me. I don't feel strong enough to do a fundraiser.

Something else happened that made my adrenaline shoot up and left me with an ill feeling in my stomach. I realized today that I wasn't imagining that my neighbor is ignoring me (that had been bugging me). I said "Hello" really loud and she looked up at me, said nothing and looked away. I was stunned but said "so you ARE ignoring me. What's wrong?" She ignored me and left. I hate that I don't know what's with her, what I must have done or said to make her feel like she needs to ignore me. Have I wronged her inadvertently? What if the animosity she feels escalates to a real neighbor's feud? I hate that I can't defend myself because she isn't coming out with it. What if we live beside each other for years to come and it doesn't get better? Don't I deserve clarification? Well, I find myself looking out the window to see if she's there. Part of me is hurt and wants to just knock down those walls. Part of me wants to cuss her and say hurtful things. Have we invaded their space, come too close to their motorcycle? Has she heard the criticism of her dogs poop in our yard? If so, how come SHE's mad at ME? Ugh. I have no energy for crap like this!

Oh, and add to this that I just talked to a good friend who has marital problems and a special needs child that she's basically in charge of all by herself, NO relief whatsoever! And another friend who's husband cheated on her. And another friend has horrible fights and has to deal with his mistrust issues. And another friend who's husband is a coldhearted alcoholic, interfering with everything and having an opinion about every little detail, but not contributing even ONE iota of childcare or chores to earn the right to have an input. She's basically a single mother, too, with an alcoholic asshole breathing down her neck. And another friend who's husband is clearly depressed but denies it and does nothing about it (4 children together, another 'single mom', so to speak!). If I'm going to take up their grief I need to learn not to let it get ME down in the process, but I've basically come to the conclusion that ALL husbands except mine SUCK!!!

blog brewing

2006-11-28T09:14:00.000-05:00

There's a blog brewing inside me, about dismantling Christmas (I'm working on taking the christ out of christmas...) and what parts of my personal traditions have to be changed, what can stay the same. About how most the time I get what's important in life (not the shopping, not having the complete set of tableware, but having all four people of the family alive and well) but before that blog I have to write how every once in a while stupid things can still fill me with rage; the inability of what seems to be the ENTIRE elementary school parent population to get the curb service right and make the rest of the line grow longer and waste time. It's been three months, can there really be people left who don't know how it works? Where they are supposed to stop (not infront of the door, but at the end of the lane)? That it's one way, and you can't move the cones, they are there for a reason? BLadiblah, the stupidity of people still gets to me. Inability to absorb information being fed to them twice a day, five days a week, every week. Today, there wasn't anyone visually waving them to the front of the lane (not that that does any good, as proven daily) so the mindless cattle didn't know what to do. I was tempted to pull over and give directions. Smartass, perfectionist, get-a-life me.

never safe again

2006-11-12T11:11:00.000-05:00

I went to pick up two meds for N. this morning ($50!) and cried on the way home. I can't even word it. I feel like this pneumonia came out of the blue, although I also knew that it was 'on the menu', so to speak. When we were in Philly waiting for a heart a lot of transplant kids came back to the hospital with pneumonia. That's just something common. When I called the transplant doctor to get instructions on what to do with a 102.3 F fever I mentioned that I was surprised it took 2 1/2 years to get to this point. But still it sweeps me off my feet, in a traumatizing, 'life will never be good or safe again' kind of way. All the old mechanisms (from half a year away from home) are instantly coming back: I have the right to eat any chocolate; I have the right to buy stupid magazines that I normally wouldn't spend money on; I have the right to never cook but eat out at a real restaurant; I have the right to go shopping for new clothes. Of course, none of these things will help make me feel whole again. (And I'm actually not doing all those things. My mind is going through the motions.)

I feel guilty for making such a fuss, it wasn't me who got all the needles and stickers and x-rays and my body messed around with. My poor little girl! She was being so brave! One highlight early on were the ambulance driver/EMT's. They seemed like angels after the not-so-child-friendly environment of our local hospital. The way they made N. get chatty and sing in the ambulance was a blessing. I felt like I was instantly crushing on the two men in the back with her. (Embarrassing!) They gave her a stuffed animal (from the hospital stock somewhere), a tiger, whom N. named Katie and then had to always look at me to help her remember the "lion's" name. I got custody of her stuffed Toto, which was fine with me. (I was feeling jealous out of loyalty for Toto...)

I imagine plastering the car with organ donation stickers and magnets, on all four sides, to do something drastic. It blows my mind that not the whole world knows this happened to us. Where is the welcome home party? Where are the flowers, balloons, stuffed animals? The truth is, I probably wouldn't do that for a friend's child either. I'd assume they need time to get back into their rhythm of things, and give them space. Yea, well, I want to be spoiled and pampered. I SO deserve a pedicure now! But no pedicure can scrape off the hurt from falling out of your own life into the hospital life again. The sticky stuff from N's leads is gone again. Soon her IV/blood draw bruises will be history. It's the inside bruises that take forever, or actually never really go away.

back from another dimension

2006-11-11T20:49:00.000-05:00

I got back from three days in the hospital with my daughter. Wednesday night she spiked a fever, we went to the ER. She was diagnosed with pneumonia (most likely due to the flu, we did have exposure) and since they couldn't really deal with pediatric complications there we were transported to DC Children's via ambulance at 5:30am the following morning. I hadn't slept except five minutes before the transport came. We spent the time from 6something to 11 in the ER, very loud due to construction done in the 'layer' between the ER floor and the floor above, and very uncomfortable (nowhere to rest and cold). Once we were at the unit where we spent the remainder of the time it was a bit better, but the things a little girl has to endure... By the end of Thursday she had had four different sets of lead stickers (ER, ambulance, ER, unit, all not compatible!) and two sets of EKG stickers (16 or so?) to suffer through, not to mention blood taken several times and the IV put into her arm, a tube stuck up her nose to take a sample of her snot, very unpleasant. She was totally done with them all!

I realize that no words can recapture how hard it was. How surprisingly easy at some times. Being back home is such a relief. Even a simple thing as going to the bathroom was so complicated there: Unhook the pulsox, unhook the leads, make sure they don't trail on the germ-infested floor; socks on the feet to protect her from germs; pan into toilet (to measure output); making sure she doesn't touch the toilet or that the strings of the gown don't end up in the toilet bowl or the leads and pulsox fall in... wipe her without contaminating her. Back on the bed: wipe hands with antibacterial wipes, because she can't wash hands with that IV on her arm; make sure socks don't touch the bedsheets or they're contaminated.

I ate entirely too much of the overpriced mediocre hospital food, but the obvious sense of entitlement to eat and buy any food under the sun kicked in, as usual. Being there on a (long!) weekend sucked. Time slows down, things that are supposed to be done don't happen, people aren't available for answers... I remember from the good ol' days (meaning, the horrid 1/2 year in Philadelphia pre and post transplant) that weekends used to give me the creeps then, too, because the hospital was so empty and lonely compared to weekdays, and for a people person such as me that was not a good thing.

Coming home was hell. (It helped to know from past experience that if you hear at 11am you'll be discharged then it won't be complete until 4pm, in time for traffic home...) Having her 6yo brother and her reunited made for a toxic mix. By the time we were done outprocessing I was done with the kids. And then we still had 45 minutes to drive home! I took a well deserved time out by driving to the pharmacy to fill her prescriptions, in absolute quiet and without having to mind another human being in my care.

Speaking of care, I am proud of myself. Being a veteran at hospitals, even if not that one, really made a difference. It made me think to ask or demand or state things that I would have otherwise just endured. We were the last room in a long zig-zaggy station with little supervision which was both good and bad. I didn't need to call the nurse to unhook her to go potty, but the nurse also wasn't always there when I DID need her for something. Most the time I'd go hunt her down rather than wait for her to come along. The fact that they were dealing with a heart patient whose transplant team was elsewhere and whose initial tests were started in a different location made things complicated. That the infectious disease (ID) guys had their say made things confusing. The nasal test they had to redo because the ID people wanted more tests done was not going to get results back until Monday! The only reason we did get to go home is that I made it known to anyone who'd listen and anyone with any say in the matter that we were not going to stay in the hospital to wait for that test, that my girl was obviously too well to be restrained to a hospital bed and would be better off home. (That is something i wouldn't have done in non-veteran times...)

I'm so done with what just happened, and it seems so unreal to be back. The hamper of dirty clothes is there. The groceries still need to be bought. School starts again on Monday. Didn't the rest of the world realize that a lifetime of stuff happened these past three days? I'm tired. Maybe tomorrow I'll find things more normal. Although I am certain it'll be hard for a while to let my guard down. I'll have a bag packed somewhere just in case. and always bring extra clothing for both me and my patient little patient. You never know where and when you might end up...

Happy Halloween!

2006-10-31T20:08:00.000-05:00

Happy Halloween from the family!
(Wicked Witch, Scarecrow, Dorothy, and a fierce Pirate)

This was me as the Wicked Witch of the West.

And after the cursed brat made my face melt off... as a ZOMBIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Both scared the kids to death. What fun!

good old days

2006-10-31T16:29:00.000-05:00

I am sad over a time that was never my own. My parents have been married 38 years today and in an email he sent me a Dean Martin song and wedding pictures. I remember the days when watching Western movies and little innocent comedies from the sixties and seventies (that weren't so innocent then) was my standard of entertainment because it was my father's. Looking at the wedding pictures I mourn the loved ones that are no longer here. I grieve over times when people weren't hooked to the internet, where the only reality you experienced was your own, not some stranger's reality on tv. (I really can't stand reality tv, I think it brainwashes us into forgetting what 'real' means and feels like. How relevant is any of that race/survival/makeover/"you're fired!" crap when people are starving or raped or killed or have a child suffer in a hospital, or when so many can't afford the bare necessities!) I'm having a very hard time expressing what I mean! A little bit like the times of Dirty Dancing, where times are a-changing, and 'Baby's' dad is reluctant to accept it. Doesn't mean you can't get melancholy over how there used to be diners and chivalry and food from restaurants that didn't have chains. Never mind.

Happy Anniversary to my parents; it's another reminder that time keeps moving on, and that I'm not that little girl loving my dad's Western movies, but that I'm now a mother of my own little girl.

post traumatic mute-ness

2006-10-25T18:20:00.000-04:00

I am working on my daughter's baby pages. I have them in my family album, and for some reason that wasn't as traumatic when I did those pages as having to do them for her, in her cutesy-meant-to-be-uplifting-filled-with-pride album. The family album was more technical, and now I'm supposed to fill the pictures of pregnancy and ultrasounds and birth with joy and happy anticipation when mostly what I'm feeling is grief all over again. First we thought we were preparing for a funeral instead of a birth. Then we found out that her heart defect, HLHS, could be alleviated (not fixed) with three surgeries. One immediately after birth, which carried the highest fatality risk. She had the surgery at 4 days old, wasn't allowed to be fed for the first week of her life. I was not bringing her home a few days after birth; the day of her birth she was flown to CHOP, without me there. There is nothing cutesy about that. And we never felt safe and done after that, since we knew more of that was to come. We didn't socialize for the next 4 months, then she was whisked to CHOP with an ambulance because she wasn unwell sooner than anticipated. She had her second surgery then. Then one of her arteries was too narrow, that was another procedure three months later. There was half a year of misleading peace and quiet until she had acute congestive heart failure and needed a new heart. No, I can't say that her baby pages are warm and fuzzy. They are filled with fear of losing her, with remembering that I can't let my guard down even now. The pages make me hug her that much more tightly, inhale her wonderful scent when burying my nose in her neck. I'm scared to death to not be able to do that some day. They make me be more fearful all around. The fear of losing either of my children and even my husband is very strong right now. I frequently imagine the black hole I'd fall into were something to happen to any one of them.

Right now, I've got the decorations on the pages, and the photos per page laid out. Some of them are even stuck down, after careful consideration and going back and forth about order and room for journaling. It's the journaling, the words addressed to her that can't seem to come out. I'm afraid all she'll get is gloom and doom. This makes me mute, and the journaling boxes remain blank. I look at them every day, thinking of sentences that might work only to discard them before they are even written down. I guess that's what they call post traumatic stress. I definitely feel stressed when it comes to my daughter's survival, and the rest of the family for that matter.

"trips" of the week: ren fair, audiobook, doctor appointments, health insurance

2006-10-13T18:49:00.000-04:00

Wrote this in an email. Sorry for the recycle, Bree...

I’ve been on a couple of ‘trips’ of sorts. We went to the ren fair last Saturday, since then I’ve been obsessing about ren fair garb, specifically on http://www.verymerryseamstress.com/. I’m just in awe of that woman. I clicked on every click, read all the descriptions, clicked on all the pics to see them enlarged, fantasized about what colors to order. I even clicked on her blog, which lead to her husband’s blog, and looked at the pics there… (Psycho!)

Then I started the audio book “My Sister’s Keeper” by Jodi Picoult which sentenced N. to tv all day (for 2 ½ days) while I did ALL my chores in the kitchen by the cd player (12 discs!). I feel accomplished though, laundry, dishes, paperwork, cabinet sorted out… The book hit a nerve (that’s already raw) because it’s about a 16 year old with leukemia, and how her younger sister was conceived to be a cord blood donor to help fight the cancer. Etc etc. The hospital stuff was too much ‘me’. I cried a lot.

I’ve been overwhelmed with the medical shit hitting the fan. I’m even too tired to blog about it. N.’s skin thing (viral, molluscum) got infected twice this fall, this time so bad the pediatrician warned me that she’d have to go to the hospital for IV antibiotics if it didn’t get better with the next set of potent oral antibiotics. We were both surprised to see her heal in a snap with them though. (We had R.’s well patient visit today, with another pediatrician, and N.’s pediatrician came in to have a peek at the site that only Tuesday - after getting poked with a needle - spilled what seemed like ½ gallon of puss!) She needs to be seen by a dermatologist; the one the pediatrician wants her to see is not covered in VA, but the same guy IS covered in Georgetown Univ. Hospital in DC, which means a hassle with the commute. Originally, he wasn’t even going to see her till January. The ped pulled some strings.

Then dentist; hassle because she needs that antibiotic 1 hour before she goes. The bigger likelihood of new cavities due to meds. NOT FAIR.

Then clinic at CHOP at the end of October. It’s still two weeks away yet I’m already getting sad over it; over having to arrange it all, over getting up early, over driving that far, over just having the life where it’s part of what we have to do. Yesterday I realized that I have these appointments all scheduled for the same week, gotta undo one of them. I’d like to only have the clinic, but since it was so hard to have N. squeezed in with the dermatologist I’ll have to keep that, that same week. Ugh!

Then my DH proclaimed that the health insurance his company is changing to is going to get us screwed, because we’ll have a huge deductible and a percentage per outpatient/inpatient visit. The money thing makes me want to cry, and throw up, and hide under the pillow. I DON’T WANT TO deal with all that. I don’t want her to be worse off than the average “Jane”. I don’t know, I’ve just been realizing how unnormal life with her really is. The threat of death due to flu season. The threat of death just because. The possibility of rejection. The possibility of cancer due to meds. Oh, and the meds: one of them costs almost $400, no wonder they’re scroogy when giving us the next month’s worth. I wonder if that’s even covered with the new insurance. It’s definitely fundraiser time. And I have not an ounce of fundraising spirit within me. It makes me cry to think about having to go there again, asking for money. FUCK MONEY!
Oh, well, now I’ve written a book after all!

back to school night

2006-09-20T08:17:00.000-04:00

I feel like a betrayer of all things homeschooling, but last night's back to school event at R's elementary school had me excited of the things they get to do ("sign ME up!"). I think this really is something that might work for my son's personality. And I LOVE the teacher! R didn't go to school yesterday so I could take him on our annual apple picking excursion, and rather than telling the teacher a lie, or be vague, I totally told her I don't want him to miss a tradition with friends that have become our extended family and that I didn't intend to make it a habit. I didn't hear back from her, so I was nervous about what she thought. Turns out she said exactly what I thought: "That's a learning experience, too. I'm so glad he had fun. Sorry I didn't have time to get back with you." By the end of the evening, I couldn't resist but hug her on the way out. I think she is wonderful, and that confirms the sense that R is in a good place. When he comes home he is mostly tired but not angry or down or anything like that. (Yet.)

Well, back to the betraying homeschooling statement. I realize that this new excitement for Kindergarten doesn't mean I don't understand the value of homeschooling, envy it in a way with people who are already doing it full time, and I'm not excluding the possibility for my daughter in two years. I want to incorporate the homeschooling mind into the afterschool hours, make a more conscious effort to listen to his cues in regards to life, interests, and how the world works than I did during R's preschool years. On the other hand I have an appreciation for how much improved my relationship is with my son because I miss him during the day and when he gets home I make sure I pay attention. We have more scheduled alone time and he seems like a totally different child to me; smarter, warmer, more insightful, more, well, just more. He comes across as calmer (my playgroup friends confirmed this). I think we got lucky with his teacher. And I also know that K is different from the following years, especially 2nd grade with its SOL's (cringe). We'll cross that bridge when we get there.

traumatized

2006-09-11T19:29:00.000-04:00

My husband loves horror movies. When we first moved to the States we did a Friday the 13th movie marathon, a Halloween movie marathon, and a Nightmare on Elmstreet movie marathon. I was even getting into them a bit, but they still were never my favorite choice of movie. Besides, those are 'classics', a good type of suspense involving more or less a boogey man that isn't very likely. It's easier to watch that. But since I've had my first child I can't deal with scary movies anymore, and since my daughter and all that time in hospitals and the real-life-almost-losing-her stuff I definitely have NO tolerance for gore and realistically scary movies.

This weekend, hubby made me watch "the hills have eyes" and let me off the hook once I started crying (the loud bawling kind!) because I couldn't deal with an especially brutal scene where half a family gets killed (with a baby in the room)... I don't have to watch horror movies anymore. I DON'T HAVE TO! I'm allowed to NOT WATCH THEM!

Now I have to live with a 3 year old who just learned to sing

"One, two, Freddie's coming for you
Three, four, better lock your door
Five, six, grab your crucifix
Seven, eight, better stay up late
Nine, ten, never sleep again. Whoooaaahhh!"

Thanks a lot, daddy!

pottery

2006-09-07T22:20:00.000-04:00

Oh well, while I'm on a roll... I was supposed to scrapbook tonight, but this needs to be out of my system first, then I can do the pictures from months ago. I want to dedicate this blog to the pottery that broke my heart, captured my daydreams and has me writing wish lists and re-write them...

http://www.toepferei-seiler.de/

I was telling the lady who worked there that it was wonderful yet frustrating to see all the beautiful stuff they had. I nearly cried when she asked "have you seen the upstairs yet?" "THE UPSTAIRS??"

So, these two are from upstairs. I'm mad I didn't take more pictures, of every shelf, and in detail. It would make browsing with the zoom option SO much easier!

I like the onion and garlic crocks on the wall shelves here.

Pottery from other potters

The right picture shows what is known here as Polish Pottery. The lady from the pottery explained that the clay and potters from Bunzlau had a tradition from the middle ages, and that the owner's family had been there from 1848 or so. Only, when the borders were re-drawn after WWII, it fell to Polish territory and many potters were forced to leave, taking with them parts of the tradition, and leaving behind the Bunzlau name which today is Bolesławiec . So it was clear that talking about "Polish Pottery" was a slap in this potter's face.

She was very nice (despite the 'slap') and even gave each of the kids a mini porcelain cat. (I like the little clay balls hanging behind her, and the plaques on the wall...) Speaking of kids: I was basically having half-heart attacks until their daddy took them back out of the store. If I was going to buy something it wasn't because they broke it, but because I loved it!

It took us forever to pick mugs; I had bought a pair with names for our wedding which broke since. I wanted to replace them with a nice pair from the same place, of course. So many options... I LOOOVE this stuff!!! Shelves and shelves of different mugs and glazes and patterns...

This glaze and paint were new to me. I tried to get closer in case I want to copy the pattern next time I go painting my own pottery at a moms night out or so.

I know being materialistic is NOT the path to happiness. But until I figure out what is I'll just keep on drooling. MUST. OWN. IT. ALL. *passes out from hyperventilating.*

more things to make me feel German

2006-09-07T22:01:00.000-04:00

Ok. So tea is a big thing for me. And I wanted all the different kinds. And the stuff I used to get, and the stuff my mom had, and the teas that my kids might like. I ended up with 15 teas. 2 of which are gifts. I am SO generous! Hey, if you want tea, don't expect it as a gift, come to my house to drink it!

This here be the goods I sent via airmail because I was worried about lying to the customs officer about having meat and plant product. I prefer smuggling instead. Soups, gravies, salad dressing mixes, herbs and spices. This is the contraband:

"No, no ma'am, no meat products in the suitcases."

because I mailed them instead.

Can anyone tell me what all these packets have in common? (Pst! I'll give a hint under the picture...)

I call this picture Schnitzelmania.

"No, no ma'am, no plant product like ground up dubious looking herbs in the suitcases, either."

because I mailed them instead. At least the very dubious ones.

Seeing all this stuff at once, after weeding out the little bit of clothes that we had in the suitcases, made me realize that I have issues that go beyond just food. This stuff, I should have enjoyed it while it lasted, while I was in Germany, and maybe brought a couple of things home. Instead, I tried to bring it ALL back, not let go of all that I love there and that makes it German and nostalgic to me. Oh, I did NOT take pictures of all the games, books and other stuff we had in the luggage, some of it is hidden for later birthdays and christmas, so I didn't feel like dragging it out. Giving the kids something uniquely German to play with feels good. And makes more sense, I think, than the other piles of foods and creams that I horded. Well, but it WILL make me a bit happier, for a while. And it WILL remind me of home, of my sisters and parents and nieces. So I DID take a bit of them with me. That makes it kinda ok again.

things to remember Germany by, and things one can't do without as a (crazy) German in the US

2006-09-07T21:39:00.000-04:00

I got greedy. I don't know how it happened, but what was supposed to be just some stuff on a wish list claimed a life of its own, cost us $65 penalty for suitcases that were overweight and all kinds of other overweight elsewhere that I ain't gonna name here.

Here is the pottery that we somehow managed to get home, all in one piece! (That mushroom and the two mugs to the right were gifts.) There is a local potter that has me drool over the pictures I took inside their showroom (yea, sick, isn't it? To take pictures of a showroom!). I wish I could own everything they make. Or, I'd settle for maybe 5 to 10 more pieces for now? I need to get back to the real world about pottery from there. Move on with my life and settle for Corelle or something.

These are the condiments. I'm the kind of person that can't ever have too many mustards. The upright bottle had me worry that they'd think this is an explosive device. But noone made me take it out or toss it. Plain ole' Curry Ketchup; the next tube is mayo and ketchup swirl; then the regular medium-heat mustard; then blue and white diamonds (hard to see here) tube is sweet mustard for Bavarian White Sausages, (the Bavarian flag has blue and white diamonds); then hot mustard; and last the horseradish. In hindsight I wish I had taken the creamy horseradish and one or two more types of mustard. (GREED! That woman can't stop!)

These are parts of my spices: fried potato spice; Greek Tzatziki spice; crystal salt from the Himalayans; organic herb salt; salad herb spice; selery salt.
Chocolates and candy. Not to worry, half of that has been or will be given away as gifts. The other half is mostly gone. (OOPS! No, I didn't eat most of that... Or rather, yes I did! To get rid of it before I start going sugar-less next week to detox again. It was for the greater good of me that I ate so much of it! Right? RIGHT??)

These are: massage oils, shampoo, conditioner, showergels, lotion, face creams, other creams, soap, after shave, foot care products, bandaids of all types of bandish aid, toothpaste, creams for booboos, for mosquito bites and for bumps. Yea. I got it covered.

I'm thinking blogger isn't allowing more than five pics. And rather than messing around and accidentally hitting the back button and therefore deleting all progress Ima gonna do the other half in a second blog. Bear with me. There's much Germany to be processed, ok? And now is the time to let some of it out.

Kindergarten - what a mess

2006-09-06T11:17:00.000-04:00

I'm a mess. Today is day two and I'm crying again. I didn't cry dropping R off, but then during the day, when I miss him, or when we listen to music that he likes it gets to me that he's out of my reach. (Even if it's Vacation Bible School music that is a bit brainwashy but very catchy.) I just unpacked his back-up outfit out of the tote bag (he tends to have accidents when he's distracted, or he'll decide it's vital to get knee-deep into a wet situation) because he won't be part of our weekday excursions anymore. That just makes me want to fall apart! It's only day two and I didn't walk him into the school; I still have so many questions for the teacher, and with the curbside drop-off and pick-up I don't even get to see his teacher - I DON'T LIKE that! I am not used to him having to walk the walk without me rehearsing it with him. I know he's a big boy, but yesterday wasn't a good enough start, I would want to do it over.

Let's take it from the top: an 8-minute trip to his school turned into a 45 minute trip due to torrents of rain, Northbound traffic blocking the intersections so I couldn't get to the destination Southbound, then millions of Kindergarten parents who are not used to the routine of this tiny school with virtually NO parking blocked the access road to the school, and the entire road before that... WHAT A MESS! It seemed very unprofessional, unorganized, you'd think they'd make it a point to instruct the new parents BEFORE all that chaos ensues! When we got to R's classroom the teacher wasn't there at first, and the assistant teacher didn't give clear instructions, probably because parents were coming in during a longer period of time. I didn't like that II (to stress I, I like to say "II"!) had to show him his number, his cubby, where to put his stuff; I didn't like that the kids were parked on a carpet infront of a tv (Disney channel) so the teacher could see to some parents who didn't speak English (nor did the child). What a nightmare! To think that that child has to just 'cope', and to think that the class has to just sit by the wayside while other matters are tended to... Ok, ok, I won't judge the entire system based on the first day, but it's hard not to, since I'm already biased against it. It occurred to me that I still have to figure out if my 'goal' ,subconsciously or consciously, is to undermine public school so I'll end up homeschooling, or if my goal is to make it work because I don't feel fit to be the homeschooler. It would help to know my party line so I could go along with it, wouldn't it?

I miss R, and I'm sad that things will never be the same. And I'm also sad that I was fretting so much, and not enjoying him more. Buying him a big backpack today (because the big [bleep]ing folder doesn't fit into his Nemo backpack we bought him for the flight) broke my heart, I don't want him to have to transport things like a mule, or have him worry about forgetting to tell me something. We have a tradition that we faithfully continued while in Germany where at night at bedtime I ask everyone their favorite thing of the day, and often I have to list the things we did for them to remember which one they liked the best. Now I won't be there to list them for him, and his day will seem like a long blur. I know I'm being dramatic, he'll be 6 this month, but it seems wrong not to have him. He's been such a pleasure lately, especially when we're alone he's so sensible, reasonable, fun to talk to, curious, helpful, serious, caring,... THIS MAKES ME CRY AGAIN! What A BITCH am I, that I couldn't see him for who he was until AFTER he was taken away?? (Drama Queen, anyone?) I don't want him to miss all the special playgroup events. I want him to stay little. I'm not ready for an older kid! Ok, gotta get a tissue now...

Heimat

2006-09-03T16:48:00.000-04:00

"Heimat" is more than just the literal translation 'homeland' or home. This is a glimpse into my Heimat. The town and the people I came from.

Edit: I added a song that we like to sing in my family, the "Andachtsjodler" to my page. You didn't know I could yodel, did you? (This is not us singing though.) Enjoy!

we are in Germany

2006-08-16T05:49:00.000-04:00

Just a real short one: We're in Germany, this is day three and we're slowly feeling like we're coming out of the coma called jet lag. The weather is much colder than I know how to pack and dress for, so we are scrambling with the few long-sleeved shirts and slacks we have. We're in all different stages of colds, that's not very surprising to me, I usually do get sick when I travel abroad. It is wonderful to see my sisters, when they're not with us I instantly miss them. The kids get along with their cousins greatly, it's funny to hear them try to overcome the language barrier. My kids understand German, but speak English, and my nieces don't speak English. They get along quite nicely inspite of those road blocks. I'll blog about the things that stand out in Germany and about Germans some other time. It's great to be with my family for the first time in five years!

(Even the blogger tabs and saving options are German! How weird!)

a good, hard cry

2006-08-10T13:54:00.000-04:00

I don't do errands. That is, I don't do errands with my kids. I usually take care of things either before or after going to the gym, or on weekends when their dad is home. This week I sent my son to vacation bible school to be able to run errands for our trip to Germany (we're scheduled to leave this Sunday). This made feel guilty, because I don't believe in Jesus; but I figured he'd been going to Sunday school up until the summer break, a little more brain-washing wouldn't ruin him for life. (Besides, I think it's ok for him to think well of Jesus. I'm sure he was a good person.) Every day my daughter and I drop him off at VBS, sing their songs for half an hour with my girl on my hip (the third day I finally thought to bring the sling and have her attached to me officially, easier on my arms!) and a mask on her face; it's my compromise since she isn't allowed to stay, 178 kids and tons of volunteers are too many sources she might catch something from right before the big trip! Then we'd run errands, two to three places every morning, VERY uncharacteristical for me. Last night I ended the 'to buy' list with a two-hour stint at the mall, going very fast, lifting many bags by the time I got back to the car. I felt like I hadn't skipped the gym after all, sore and exhausted as I was. I finished just in time for 'that time of the month' to arrive, and in time for the sheets of rain that came down this morning. I finished a Anita Shreve book this morning, with some tea, and loved that I was taking it easy. When I went to pick up my son, the rain that had drizzled out started to come down hard again, and then he had a tantrum over a sheet of paper he'd lost, and then they both had tantrums over what they wanted to eat, etc.

That's when I got the phone call from my dad: 'How are you doing?' I told him how it was a messy day and I was done shopping and all I wanted to do is lie down and be done with the rest, too! 'Oh. You won't want to hear this then.' -'Uh oh. What?' He proceeded to tell me that the Scotland Yard had uncovered a terrorist plot and how liquids were involved, changing the restrictions for international flights. A near panic attack over my daughter's life-saving LIQUID medication, phone calls to hubby, the doctor and the airline and an hour later I was calm enough to know that we wouldn't die from thirst, that the meds would be ok, that there would be filtered, safe water for her to drink and that we'd just have to add extra time to check in. Not just the usual 2 hours, but 2 1/2 to 3 hours.

Ok, so this has been a stressful week, probably will get more stressy with the final stretch of packing ahead of me, and the airport stress, and worrying about the bored little 3 and 5 year old in an airport full of nervous security people. Already the week has taken a toll on my head, the tension in the shoulders accumulated to a near-migraine. The kids are getting fussier the more irritable I am getting. What really worries me is that it reminds me of September 2001, when my parents were to come visit, for the first time together, and their flight on September 12th was canceled, because, you know, September 11th happened. My father, who is afraid of flying said he wouldn't come, not then, or maybe ever. It took him four years to change his mind. I had another child in that time, including two heart surgeries, endless procedures, one heart failure, one heart transplant, and plenty of heartache (haha, literally! Never mind.) to boot. (They finally visited last fall and it was the most wonderful time with them.) It is selfish and petty from the point of view that lives were lost during the terrorist attacks and I hadn't lost a loved one. But my devastation and disappointment were my own little trauma. Since then I don't believe in successful travel. That my parents DID make it last fall was a miracle. That we are supposed to go to Germany in four days will only be true once I'm there. This whole new terrorist threat is a vivid reminder, a warning shot, not to take it for granted, not to get my hopes up, not to let my guard down only to be disappointed because we won't be allowed to go. Or worse, because something happens to our flight. I have a vivid imagination, and the thought that we might be separated from my daughter's meds because of a stupid emergency landing or something like that (I do watch 'Lost', after all!) is really doing a number on my head. I have knots of left-over grief, fear, stress and worry in my throat, in my forehead. I could really use a good hard cry to release it all, to let it go. To know that this is not in my control, and that that's fine. That things will probably be ok. And then my daughter will meet her nieces and aunts for the first time in her life. Thanks to the Make-A-Wish Foundation. And then we can all cry again because we're so happy.

Philadelphia week

2006-08-03T13:02:00.000-04:00

Wow. There is so much to blog about.
pre-cath testing
Tuesday my 3-year-old daughter N. and I made our way up to Philadelphia (3 hours from where I live). Got up 4:00am (did I mention I love to sleep? Until, say, 8am??) N. was awake the first hour, but slept through a gorgeous sunrise. I'm amazed that the sun looks so cozy and harmless when it's close to the horizon with lots of atmosphere washing away the vicious bite of its rays. A wonderful, fuzzy looking scarlet. On the way into Philadelphia it was so hazy one could barely make out where in the distance the city skyline was. We got there at 7:30, in time to get lab work done at 8 am; exactly 12 hours after my daughter's last time she was given meds and at the time her next dose is due, to check the levels in her blood ; then ekg, echo, x-rays, the usual tests before a cath and biopsy. With only a small worry about some wart-like growth on N.'s neck, right where they need to go in with their cath needle (which worked out fine in the end) we were done with the tests, to return the next morning at 6:30am.
N. has been obsessed about "the Wizard of Oz" and we were blessed to find ruby slippers in our hand-me-down bag of shoes. She appeared at the hospital an inch taller than last time we were there, and able to speak whole sentences very clearly; when she was walking around with the little clickety-clackety sound of the too grown-up looking heels of her ruby slippers everyone mentioned the shoes and she was prompted to tell about the movie, frequently showing off how to clack your heels (and shutting her eyes tightly while doing it). Even strangers in the elevator couldn't help but comment. It was an adorable sight but made me secretly wonder about what lesson it teaches N. about how an object can get attention and make people judge and like you for superficial reasons. (I'm sure she didn't get scarred for life!)
visit with friends
We drove an hour to a fellow heart patient's house. L. is 16 now and was and has been in and out of the hospital because of her heart. Two years ago when we were waiting for a heart for my daughter my (then one-year-old) girl lifted L.'s spirits while L. and her mother did the same for me. The weather being in the triple digits this week here on the East Coast, and with that darn heat index as high as 113 degrees, we basically just hung out inside the airconditioned house. I was grateful for the two teenage children who played with N. extensively, giving L's mom and me the chance to catch up. (We also tossed old magazines and two trash containers full of expired pantry items! She is organizationally challenged, and I love to declutter!) Around dinner time N. showed signs of a cold, which is NOT good when you need to be put under the next day. Bedtime was 9ish, for both of us.
the cath
Wednesday we got to the hospital 6:30. For the first time in ages the IV nurse didn't get her IV in at the first try (and she's the best and our favorite one!) and when she was getting the needle ready for the THIRD time N. cried "you already DID THAT!" Poor baby!! She was very brave and once it was done you couldn't tell she just went through that ordeal. N. was taken to the cath lab at 8, despite her snotty nose, because her chest was clear and she didn't have a temperature. I love that the routine is such that, depending on the anesthesiologist, I go into the cath lab and hold her while they put her to sleep on the table, or hold her in my arms, standing infront of the cath lab doors while they inject the sleepy stuff into her IV. She came back around 9:40am, just enough time for me to eat breakfast and check email. (I'm proud to say I didn't make the most horrid food choices for once!)
unexpected change of plans
Usually the recovery takes about 2 hours, then we're on our way home. This time, the cath showed something the Dr. didn't like, I almost fell out of my seat when he told us he wanted to keep N. till the evening when the rushed biopsy results would come back, maybe even overnight. A long day in the hospital is not what I had had in mind. I do, however, always pack for an extra day, so we're not scrambling to get her life-saving meds and to avoid being stuck with nothing but dirty underwear. Usually N. sleeps an hour from the anesthetics then eats and we leave. This time I had to wake her to give her her 8am meds (at 12pm!), and she continued to sleep until almost 2. That worked out well for me, she didn't need to be entertained while being confined to her room/bed with all the leads, pulsox and bp cuff tying her down. We were moved to a private recovery room since her cold posed a threat to the other patients in the bigger room. This was fortunate for me, because I was tired of being on my feet or sitting and got a chance to lay down. First on her bigger hospital bed (this was N.'s first time on a big girl bed in the hospital!) and then on the sleepsofa. --The entire cardiac unit at CHOP has changed and moved into a beautiful new wing; spacious, colorful and bright. I was grateful for the room we had. Next time I need to take more pictures to show what it's like. -- Also for the first time since her new heart she came back from the cath lab with oxygen on blow-by, meaning the mask was laying next to her mouth to help with her 02 levels. (Obviously the 02 was down, it's hard to breathe with a cold!
the accident
At 3pm, just when we had a movie in the brand new dvd player and books, puzzles and games from the playroom situated all around N., the Dr. came back, told us we could go home because he wouldn't get the biopsy results until tomorrow. I was relieved but also knew that this would put us into rush hour traffic, somewhere between Phila., Baltimore, and DC there would be plenty of that. Well, we didn't have to travel far to hit traffic, right after Philadelphia, when we GOT REAR-ENDED! At this point I was already drained and "done" with the day, I didn't want to be responsible for resolving this. N. cried because she got scared. After all was said and done everyone was fine, the bumper damaged (and probably the frame, since now the door doesn't close really well) and we got out of there within a half hour. I cried most of the next hour, got gas in Delaware (N. asleep); then at the Maryland House (I love those reststops in between Southbound/Northbound lanes) N. and I got a drink and a muffin at Starbucks and it was mostly smooth sailing from there on out. We got home at 7:30pm and I basically relinquished responsibility and control to R. Unfortunately N. took a long time to fall asleep but I was mostly unconscious during that time.
great news
This morning, after worrying for almost 24 hours about the biopsy results, the call came that she had ZERO rejection! In my mind I had already assigned my 5 1/2 year old son to several friends who would pick him up every day after Kindergarten while I'm in Philadelphia getting N. treated for rejection. I had mentally braced myself for canceling the trip to Germany, etc. What a relief that her body shows no signs of rejecting her little heart!
but...
To dampen the joy over those results they told me that we had to come back to CHOP for a clinic visit TOMORROW. NO amount of negotiation could change the Dr.'s mind! Now I'm scrambling for a sitter, I'll take hubby's car (just in case the van decides to break down) and hopefully we'll be done with the clinic visit before the weekend rush hour hits I 95! Thank goodness there is no rejection! I can handle another clinic visit. It's still better than having to stay an extra day, or two, or 100...

chat with a friend

2006-07-29T23:59:00.000-04:00

Me: If your life were perfect, what would it look like?
Friend: If my life were perfect? I'd be working as a guide, [child's name here] with me and a beautiful lover whom I could share my life with (and possibly some other people too) and my friends. I'd live near mountains and ocean alike, and have enough money to travel other than that, I'm good
Me: nice
Friend: one big trip per year somewhere outside the US, and lots of travel within the US and living my dream. I'd also write a lot
Me: going overseas once a year would be in mine, too, able to visit my family
Friend: I'd go to all the places I want to visit...the spiritual ones and then start hitting everything else
Me: perfect life would be not doubting everything i do, enjoying playing with my kids, having [my son] thrive in public school so i wouldn't have to question it. having [my daughter] stay healthy enough to do the same. lots of painting my own pottery and traveling. live in the perfect climate for frequent outdoor time. no commute for [my husband]; picking up hobbies like rowing (whatever the professional term is) when my parents moved from Germany to Sweden i thought I'd do that, rowing. and skating
Friend: funny you focused a lot on your family, and I focused on me and yet, you're the one concerned you're not getting it right and I never doubt myself about it at all
Me: that makes me cry
Friend: why?
Me: because i want that for myself
Friend: I think that says a lot about you...you want to be the best person you can be

I edited the chat so the sequence makes more sense, and took out the names for privacy reasons. I don't know how that question popped into my head but I liked the bottom line...

good, good day

2006-07-29T23:48:00.000-04:00

Today was a great day. We got back from a sleepover with 13 children and 7 moms yesterday, it was very exhausting but fun and totally worth it. I had considered not going, then decided instead to not join from the very beginning, so I wouldn't be worn out by the time the part came where I'd have to get them to fall asleep with a room full of people. It went remarkably well, and the hike down to a waterfall in the Shenandoah mountains was beautiful. I was proud and happy that I 'made it'.

Woke up sore in the feet and shoulders from carrying my 3yo in the mei tai (sp?), showed a weight gain at Weight Watchers but didn't care because the time together with my friends was so worth eating stuff I'm trying to stay away from now! Felt good doing things with the kids, didn't try to escape, had some bonding time with my son when we went to the grocery store. That'll be my routine from now on, regular alone time with him (and not just errands). We went to the landfill to drop off our old dishwasher, ate out (I made healthy choices!), played with the sprinkler, watched a movie, allowed them decision making in what they had for dinner. Just all breezy today. Good to have hubby home. I wish I could keep him during the week, too...

5000 signs I'm not doing so well

2006-07-21T17:30:00.000-04:00

Granola on all the floors and I can't find it in me to vacuum and sweep.
The pile of books on the nightstand intended to get me somewhere is getting higher and I have less and less answers.
The urge to throw all the toys away.
The urge to buy something, anything. (In passing, "Do I need something from that store? I'd love to buy something.")
Crying six times in 24 hours.
Spanking the kids more than six times in 24 hours. (I am not normally a spanker.)
Saying "I hate their fucking guts!" about the kids.
Saying categorically "I am not playing today."
Saying categorically "Today is a tv day."
Going back on the tv day thing.
The kids 'getting into something' every 30 minutes. (You think they want someone's attention?)
Hating everything the kids do.
Hating myself for that.
Just wanting to go away.
Wanting everything else to go away.
Waiting for husband to come home from work, at 9:30 in the morning.
Worrying about how things will go downhill once husband comes home because of the havoc the kids wreaked.
Wanting to go away.
Not wanting to go anywhere.
Hating myself for everything I did or didn't do.
Wanting to eat everything under the sun.
Pacing for chocolate AND pepsi.
Hating myself for that as well.
Throwing Mr. Potato Head against the wall hoping he will crack.
Only coming downstairs to fix or stop another crisis.
Saying "are we there yet??" a lot. A LOT.

no more blog subscription

2006-07-21T10:08:00.000-04:00

I decided to take feedblitz off my blog. I can't stand the thought of subscribers. Forget it! If you care you'll find my blog, if not then the subscription notifications were getting on your nerves anyway.

lousy

2006-07-20T19:40:00.000-04:00

I feel like the lousiest mother alive. I can’t deal with my kids. I don’t like how hyper they are, I don’t like that they don’t listen. I don’t even feel like going into detail. I am cancelling anything that goes beyond the local 30 minute drive because I am no longer willing to set myself up with unfulfilled expecations. No wonder I want to get rid of my 5yo by sending him to public school. Better than tossing him against the wall.

Maja, Mya, and Maia

2006-07-19T16:07:00.000-04:00

First off: My first name is Maja, pronounced like Maya Angelou or the Maya Indians. (Sometimes people look at me weird like they know neither of those Mayas. Sigh...) Earlier this month, when I was in a more fretful state, I wrote this 'obituary'.

If I die tomorrow, what's going to be on my balance sheet?
Maja spent much of her life fretting over how she looked and what she ate. She was an anxious person who worried about things not done well enough and about how things might go wrong in the future. She frequently loked for outside sources of inspiration and guidance, all the while ignoring her own inner voices and instincts. Other people's successes often threatened her and she compared her shortcomings rather than her strengths.
Shit, that looks horrible!

I wrote this that same day:

On Flylady someone named her 'inner brat' and it occurred to me that I have at least two:
First, there is Mya, the single childless diva type, self-absorbed and unsympathetic to children. She's the one who after a bikeride with the kids says "Yea, but it could have been *so* much better without the kids, without the trailer! Or how neat would it be to rollerblade here all the time??" Mya would rather not even have the kids around and is planning one night out after another.
Then there is Maia, the earthy one, who adores her children, plays with her kids all day, never feeds any junkfood, candy or food coloring etc. She is 100% homeschooler, in tune with her chidren and hasn't ever even hired a babysitter because she'd much rather be home anyway. Maia only buys organic, is in organic buying clubs and farm share co-ops. Maia *never* used disposable diapers, only cloth. Maia is crafty and does scrapbooking with her children all the time. Maia *never* drinks sodas and eats chocolate or other sugar products only on rare occasions.
And then there is Maja, who is screwed trying to do right by both. I want to find Maja, the HAPPY MEDIUM.

manners matter to me

2006-07-16T10:28:00.000-04:00

I'm irritable. It took me a while to figure out why; that happens quite often: something makes me angry/sad or rubs me the wrong way and I keep going with my day and then end up having to back-track to figure out why I'm snapping at the kids. I hate that I can be pissy without even knowing why.

So, this morning it is someone of the Freecycle network that was supposed to pick up a bed from me. This bed was already not getting picked up by the first 'candidate' because she hurt her back and it took her a while to let me know that. The next people were supposed to pick it up Saturday afternoon. The lady didn't call till late in the afternoon to tell me that they were waiting for their friend with the truck. Then after six I got the call that they'd have to come by Sunday (today). I offered between 8:30 and 9, if that was ok with her? Sure. Well, 9am came and went. So, after 10 I decide to find out why they hadn't come by yet and call her. "Oh, I told my husband to call you when he was on his way." He did call, after I had already seen him park the truck up front. The two men didn't say much, including no 'thank you' or anything like that. That REALLY makes me angry; unreliable, untimely people who don't say 'thank you' for a free bed?? I wouldn't dream of being more than an hour late without calling! (I wouldn't dream of being more than an hour late, for that matter! Being five minutes late makes me queezy!) And then getting a substantially big-money item for free with no appreciation whatsoever?!? That lady better be sending a very polite and grateful email, dammit! No, I won't stop posting on freecycle, but dealing with people that don't have manners is really something I wish could be avoided. Ok, now I've got to get over myself and let that one go.

taking care of myself

2006-07-12T09:21:00.000-04:00

I decided that having 5 yeast infections this year is enough. Obviously, Monistat (no matter if 1, 3 or 7!) and Diflucan aren't doing the trick. I know, and have been trying to avoid acting upon this knowledge with a fervent passion, that refined sugars and refined flour (the white stuff) feed the infection. I know that eating yoghurt is supposed to be good because of the good cultures (acidophilus) in the yoghurt. I didn't know that you have to actively kill what's in your undies with either boiling water, bleach for 24 hours, or ironing hot. The washer and dryer alone don't cut it. I didn't know that caffeine needs to be used in moderation. Or vinegar-based foods, pickled and fermented foods. And even artificial sweeteners. So the icky diet sodas that I've felt guilty for because they chemically poison me? They obviously have got to go! Ugh. So. I've actually made up my mind to cut out sugar, caffeine, and really watch that we don't do any white bread (which we do rarely, anyway.) If you have a quick look at my "About me" section... does it say coffee, tea, chocolate there?? Sigh. It's actually been liberating, to finally do what family and real friends have been telling me: to "cut that shit" or "eat better". Now the gym three times a week might actually be visible to other people than myself soon. Although I know it does show anyway. Otherwise, how else would I be getting the compliments such as "NO WAY YOU WEIGH 240 lbs!!" and "You wear it well..." It's been killing me to think how I could look if I didn't eat like an idiot. Well, idiot time is over, hopefully, because I have to get healthy. I've been sicker than my immune-suppressed girl! Time to shape up my health. And the past few days have reminded me that it can be fun to eat well.
*****************
ADD ON:
I failed to mention that I found it astounding and irritating that neither one of the GYN's I saw mentioned that you have to watch what you eat! Regular doctors are SO used to just prescribing something to go away, and probably feel uncomfortable advising anything that might infringe on the person's life. How sad is that! Here are a few links I found in my search for natural answers.

This was the most helpful:
http://www.bodyandfitness.com/Information/Womenhealth/yeast.htm

http://www.soapboxgirls.com/soapboxgirls/jan02/articles/yeast.html

NONE of these questions were asked by either of the GYNs I saw:
http://www.mercola.com/2004/apr/7/yeast_infections.htm

None of the questions mentioned in the second link were brought up by the doctor.

finding self

2006-07-05T18:48:00.000-04:00

As part of my self-finding efforts I read books that have me write journals or take personality profile assessments and so forth. In one book, I am to write a biography about myself in the third person. That reminded me of a page in a diary in which I had "my life on a page", key events for each year I had lived. So I frantically went through the house, getting all my diaries together, and when I finally found the one with 'my life on a page' I felt safe and complete again. I have roughly 24 diaries, calling it 'roughly' because some of them are appointment books with brief notes rather than full-sentenced journal entries.

I got my first diary from a friend as a christmas present in 1985 when I was twelve. The inside of the cover says:

"I think I will use this book partly as a diary and partly as a book for everything. (signature)
Contents: almost everything
(well, maybe not everything)
Please shake well before use"

Then the first entry says:

"The party wasn't quite what I expected, but it was nice nontheless. I think I have a thing for Walter. Hopefully he won't turn out to be a player like his brother. But I don't want to be unhappily in love!
I like music.
I like boys.
I like the class.
I like jewelry.
I like romance.
the difference is:
I love music.
I love boys."

HAHAHA!! Turned out, Walter totally became a player like his brother, and I had the hots for him for the longest! 5th through 8th grade, if I remember correctly. Not exclusively, of course, but fairly steadily. Sigh. Last I heard he's a plastic surgeon in Vienna and suspected to be gay. Every once in a while I dream about him, and I always think of him on his birthday (I get a kick out of the fact that I always remember his birthday!). What I wouldn't give to actually meet him again!

online support

2006-07-04T00:43:00.000-04:00

WOW. Last week I posted (what ended up as the "restless" blog in) an email to my homeschooling groups on yahoo and got wonderful, positive, very uplifting and insightful feedback. I even inspired someone to write a blog about it (who then inspired someone else to blog about it... ripple effect!)

http://lifewithoutschool.typepad.com/
http://throwingmarshmallows.homeschooljournal.net/

Yesterday, I posted a question about favorite traveling tips (to the homeschooling groups and my heart groups) and the helpful, thoughtful responses keep on coming! I'm going to make a master list of ALL the ideas and go shopping for little things to bring for during the trip! I almost can't wait for traveling with the kids now!

I told a friend that I can't get over the amazing boost I got from hearing other homeschoolers' thoughts in regards to my worries with schooling, education etc he said "You are seriously addicted to support groups, you know that, right?" My response to him: "You think I should find a support group for that?"

relocation

2006-07-03T22:54:00.000-04:00

R was feeling down after the trip to PA this weekend; the loss of his aunt and getting together with his large family made him realize how lonely and disconnected he feels here. I am the one with support groups, friends and things to do. He said he would consider moving there some time in the future. That comment had me mentally 'run for the hills'. No, wait, run away from the hills! While we were there it occurred to me that I always feel out of place, more like an exotic bird than someone the people there can relate to. That's the reason I left Germany! Being in a small town with simple-minded people with narrow horizons and limited tolerance on any number of issues is NOT what I'm looking for. I spent a few hours on the computer trying to figure out where we'd have to go to get a sense of not being utterly disconnected from the 'real world'. I'm more comfortable near bigger cities, with their culture, things to do and see and a bigger pool of people to draw from. I do, however, understand R's need to go back. Heck, if Germany wasn't, well, Germany (too far, too, too something), I'd want to go back to my family, too! My friend Bree mentioned that you can search for like-minded people on certain websites. That's a little consolation. There ARE other people out there, liberals, heathens, attachment parents, breastfeeding crunchy-granola types who care about and respect nature and the environment. Speaking of which, the habit of people out there burning their trash in barrels! It makes me sick! Not just knowing what it does to the atmosphere, but literally it is sickening to smell burning plastic and breathing it in. It doesn't even occur to them that it might be bothersome or harmful! YUK!

I am also angry that in the sticks the motels don't have such a thing as non-smoking rooms because everyone smokes there! My diary smells of smoke, all the clothes and cloth bags reeked and had to be washed, even the clean unworn clothes! That's a great foretaste of what's to come in Germany. Everyone smokes there! I'll be plenty angry about that. I'm listening to a song while I write this, Streets of London, which reminds me of my crush of 1986 (well, one of my crushes anyway), a Portuguese guy from Canada, Jorge Neto de Oliveira, whose cigarette I took out of his hand and broke. In response he yelled at me, in English, which I barely understood, but THAT I did understand "It's MY life, NOT YOURS!" Sigh, 20 years later I'm not one bit wiser about that, am I?

restless

2006-06-28T00:50:00.000-04:00

Sigh, can’t seem to get anyone to chat with me, and I’m feeling icky, restless. I don’t remember whose blog I was reading, but then one homeschooler’s blog led to another, and another, and I’m feeling so overwhelmed. I know that it’s a great idea. I know that school can mess up a child. But my son drives me crazy!! I don’t want to be his sole source of education; he’ll be pushed off the cliff for sure! My perfectionism, his perfectionism and desire to please, I just feel like that’s not going to work! I feel like a terrible mother for looking forward to the fall, when he won’t be with me 24/7. I feel like an even worse mother for thinking I might just home school my daughter, since her immune system is suppressed that’ll be a good enough reason not to send her to PS. Like my son is collateral damage, I’ll just salvage the girl… It’s so much easier to read to her (I don’t read to them enough!) She’s so much easier to keep from the FUCKINGDAMNSHIT TV that I SOOOO depend on! Reading the things other moms do, or have their kids explore makes me feel so inadequate! I’m the lazy kind of person that likes it when people come up with plans and schedules and I sign up and join the ride. The last time I got that gut feeling that made me cry frequently was when my son was a newborn and I realized ‘I can’t go back to work! I can’t give him to some random daycare!’ and always breaking down crying when making phone calls and making questionnaires to ask the potential daycare provider. Cried that I was supposed to do that to my own child. My husband and I shuffled stuff around, realized that sending him to daycare full time would be about the same amount of money as working 15 hours part-time. My husband and I never saw each other, passed the child and I went to work after he came home. I DO know that RIGHT NOW I’m not ready. But I worry about the ‘damage’ I’ll let the damn system do to him in K. I don’t want to screw him up! Of course, there’s the big hurdle of a husband that doesn’t have the facts and inside ‘Intel’ that I’ve been collecting about home schooling, that is categorically against it since school ‘didn’t damage him’. Sigh. This is giving me a headache. Or more likely the fact that I’m up too bleepin’ late?...

flash flood warning

2006-06-26T11:07:00.000-04:00

Last night they announced a flash flood warning on the news. I didn't think that would affect us since we don't live by water, until R reminded me of what happened last time, when he asked: "Do you think our basement is fine?" ... "Basement?... Oh SHIT!" We ran downstairs, and indeed, there was a leak (like we had it two years ago in July), slowly trickling through the seams of the window. The window itself looked like a fish tank, the kind that has dirt, spiderwebs floating around and a sliding glass panel on the side. (I have to admit, I was flirting with the idea of opening it, mentally talking myself out of it. "Must. Not. Open. Must. NOT. Open...")

Here you see the window half full. Last night, it was full to the top. (This picture is from two years ago). The window basically functions like a funnel, collecting all the rain into one location. Great concept there! We covered the opening with plexiglass last time, but the water seeps into the window from the surrounding ground, not the top.

We caught the leaking water in the bins that were still under the windows from last time, readjusted them and added socks to the window sill to have the water run off the sock, about an inch away from the wall, and therefore not leak onto the concrete floor so much. We had to empty them (fairly large storage bins!) several times! My favorite part was going outside to empty the 'aquarium'. R and I made a mini-chain with two plastic containers, him dressed in boxer shorts, me in shorts and tank top. We were soaked to the skin in no time, dumping water over the fence in the dark (trying to hopefully not drown the flowerbed behind it). There is nothing like being exposed to mother nature like this to remind you of how good we have to have a roof over your head and a mostly dry house.

By the way, if you subscribed to my blog you will get notifications not only when I blog, but even when other people comment. I apologize and am trying to figure out how to set it to only notify when there's a new blog. Bear with me!

elimination time

2006-06-20T15:29:00.000-04:00

I've started to get rid of my cassettes. My good old tapes with mixes I recorded from the radio, when I was sitting frozen on Friday evenings from 5 to 6 and pressing the 'record' button to get the best of the best of the top ten. Right now I'm listening to them all, writing down favorite songs that are worth keeping, and then I'm tossing the tape. That's pretty harsh some times, but the truth is, mostly the good stuff that's worth hearing again I probably own on cd. Or if not, sometimes you hear it on the radio now. And, really, who needs to hear "We don't need another hero" from Tina Turner three times on the same tape?? It's a bit of instant time travel, frequently interrupted with instant present day reminders "Mommy, can I have a snack?"... What do you mean, 'mommy', I'm thirteen right now, don't you see?...

vacation news

2006-06-19T23:11:00.000-04:00

OMG, it's ACTUALLY happening! Today the Make-A-Wish Foundation's wish coordinator (isn't that the coolest title!? Like, "I'll be your fairy godmother taking care of your daughter's wish. Please call me at... with any questions.") called and confirmed reservations for us to go to Germany from August 13 to August 31. WE ARE ACTUALLY, ALL FOUR OF US, GOING TO GERMANY!!! Both my sisters never met my 3yo because she was always in life-threatening circumstances of one kind or another. Well, knock on wood, she's been healthy for two years and it's time to make her dreams come true! She wished to visit her grandparents, "Oma" and "Opa", it had to actually come from her mouth. The flights, transportation to and from the airport, lodging and spending money for a week are covered. How AWESOME is that?? We would never be able to financially pull this off on our own. We still have two extra weeks of lodging to worry about. Which brings me to the knots in my stomach; I'm checking out hotels, and looking at my hometown on Google Earth, and going up and down the streets, and re-learning all the street names that feel clumsy and only half-familiar. It's amazing how quickly you can own them again, how they are still that familiar territory explored in detail by bike. I am drooling over the prospective hotels. Not over their prices though. We actually probably won't stay at a hotel after our free week. We'll have my sister's office couch and extra shower. I'm hoping she knows what she getting herself into.

Up until now, when people heard about the wish being granted and asked if I was excited, I really wasn't getting very excited. I took it as "I'll believe it when we have those tickets." I had the passports to worry about, mine took over 8 weeks to finally get finished. I still haven't finished doing all the name changes, and my green card was one of them. Done! Now that there are actual dates I can finally picture myself there. And what's been in the works since last year (end of December, I think) is finally coming to fruition. Hard to believe. NOW I can put my mind into overdrive, get things that need to be finished before the new school year done, make wish lists and have all our ducks in a row. Make sure the transplant team approves, finds a German transplant team to send all of 3yo's medical files to. They might even insist on checking her again, that might mean another trip to CHOP within the next 8 weeks. Ahhh, I'm in my element again! Fretting and trying to anticipate ALL that might happen is what I do best! Adapter for laptop, iPod, cell phones from Radio Shack... some reliable carrier for all the walking we'll be doing for my girl (she's still very portable, I like to point out, since she's 3 1/2 and small compared to her peers. I like it.) I can see myself schlepping inordinate amounts of German toys, baby carriers (yes, foenyx, with you in mind!), organic creams and medicines back from there... Not looking forward to all the smokers we'll be exposed to. And very curious about how to finance the excursion to Paris we have in mind. I've never been (can you believe it!?) and this would be a great opportunity. Mostly, though, we'll play it by ear, see if things turn out to be too complicated with two small children, or how much of a good thing might be too much. I am crazy-happy to see my father, who just had a quadruple bipass surgery four days ago. It's unsettling not to be able to call there, my sister calls me with updates she gets from my mom. I am happy everything went well. He was hoping to be in working order by the time we get there. We'll have to see about that...

out there

2006-06-14T20:58:00.000-04:00

I decided to put myself out there more. To update my profile to reflect how I feel. I don't want to blog with other people in mind, but it's my link to people to fill them in, so it's hard not to. I realized that when I give close friends full disclosure about ALL that makes me tick it is so liberating. I don't want to hold back anymore to spare feelings. I need to be honest about myself. I need to not fear what might come out of my mouth and be total shocking news about me. I realize this means that some friendships might not withstand this test. It might signal a time to move on with some, that won't share my view nor get over the fact that I have it. Being the person I am, loving easily, and deeply, and many, this will be hard to do. I have the need to be liked, to please people, to make people like me. This is not a healthy way to be.

I came across the term "polyamory" and was surprised how that filled a blank about me. Yes, it is true for me, I believe a person can love more than one other person. That despite the fact that I'm the perfect fit with my husband I can not only fall in love, but be in love with another, actually LOVE another. And, yes, I have actually acted on that. ..........My love comes in many facettes, shades, so to speak, and my girlfriends know I love them, and don't take it a sexual way (because in their case, it isn't). But I "have been known to have crushes", and I'm tired of downplaying them, or making them less harmless than they are. They wreak havoc on my heart, derail me, make me lose a hold of my daily life. They mean my heart is not monogamous. Nor do I think it ever will be. ................Today another "shade of love" came across. I tried calling my first boyfriend (in Oregon) and the phone number is no longer working. The thought of losing touch makes me panic. Like, since I placed love with him at some point in my life, it is basically still where I placed it, just in a diminished version, and not knowing where he is makes my love misplaced. Now I'll have to move heaven and earth to find him again. Just to call him once every year and know 'he's there'.

There is more to this subject than I'll be able to cover today. It's a 'warning shot' that there are subjects lurking that not every friend will be able to digest well. *sigh*

company

2006-06-09T09:39:00.000-04:00

Everytime we have someone over makes the next few days harder. I loiter more on the computer because I crave company, I am less interested in my household or "the real world". I'm distracted and wish I could be somewhere else. We've been on outings or had someone over every weekday, it's hard for us to deal with just us. And the children's restlessness amplifies my own restlessness, so by the end of the day we're just three basket cases waiting for daddy to rescue us. I don't want to PLAY! I don't want to think of dishes, laundry, dinner. How about I go back to bed and nap a bit...

the girl in the green dress

2006-06-02T17:41:00.001-04:00

My 5yo son is just like me! I want to laugh and cry at the same time! He has my heart, the heart that attaches to people, with a quick and forceful energy that causes wonderful pain.

We went to see a play in a production by a homeschool theatre group. It was way too grown up for a 5yo and 3yo of my children's disposition. Actually, it was tough for any child that age of any disposition, but for the lively kind of child that was almost too much. I felt like a failure for not being able to take it in strides, but, oh well, what else is new. I'll have to learn to pick a more suitable program, rather than pick something that doesn't fit them and then get upset that they act the way they always do. (Woman, what the hell did you expect??!) It was fun to see a bunch of people whom I know from La Leche League, I can't believe it's been so long since I used to go. (I stopped going once I found out about my girl's heart defect prenatally, because of the germs in the group setting.) I enjoyed the positive homeschoolers' energy. DH doesn't think homeschooling is such a great idea, all the homeschoolers he knows/knew are so WEIRD. Funny thing is, that's where I feel at home, that's why it feels so familiar and good! I like that kind of weird...

Anyway, back to why I'm blogging: We almost left at intermission, had even left the building already, only to go back in with the solemn promise that there will be only talking during the times that the lights are out between the scenes/acts and no fussing and moving about. (Threatening with the loss of Xbox privileges helped a bit, yea, very positive parenting here...) After the show we got to ask the actors questions and go backstage.

What was your favorite part? My 5yo was too shy to say it out loud, but he whispered to me: "My favorite part was the girl in the green dress."- "Oh. Really?" He asked me to take me to her, so he could tell her that she was his favorite part. I also asked her her name. In the program I found that she is nine years old. When 5yo didn't get to spend time with her or say goodbye to her he was devastated. We looked for her on stage, behind the scenes, in the wardrobe room, and the auditorium up front. Apparently she had left. Then his little sister chimed in, "I WANT TO SEE [name here]!! I WANT TO SEE HER!" They had been patient long enough, three hours of trying to be good were taking their toll. I coaxed them into going to the car by promising to look at the girl's pictures on the computer as soon as we got home.

A year ago at strawberry picking a little girl that my son had gotten attached to was going on my nerves and (at this year's strawberry picking) I was accused of one day making a horrible mother-in-law, because I'm already disapproving of Riley's choices. (She, being part of the farm, kept following us around through the entire animal petting/feeding part, felt a bit intrusive and obnoxious to me.) Now I am wondering how much enabling a mother is allowed to do for a 5yo? Do I try to get the girl's number and information so my son can write her? Do I print out her picture so he can swoon over her? Probably neither, but I'm hoping we'll run into her in another homeschooling outing, that would be nice. Meanwhile, it'll be interesting to witness how my son can talk about someone he only briefly saw, mostly from a distance. In the car I asked him why he likes her so much. "Because of her pretty green dress." - "So, if she wore something else you wouldn't like her?" - "She could wear any kind of dress, I'd still like her." "What if she wore shorts or jeans?" - "She wouldn't do that, she's a girl!" - "Your best friends [insert endless names here] wear shorts all the time. and they are girls!" - "I would like her no matter WHAT she wears!" and "I wish I had a big sister! I wish I had a sister that was [her name here]! I wish she could live with us!"

Yep, I know how that feels. I do that all the time...

tan lines

2006-06-02T11:32:00.001-04:00

what's the question, please?

2006-05-30T16:18:00.001-04:00

I have NOT been feeling whole. I feel like there are too many unanswered questions. It seems everything is leaving me dissatisfied. I just made a mental list of how I'm questioning my beliefs, my parenting style, my body, whether to put my kids to public school; if Jesus isn't the answer, what is? Where does that leave me with the kids? Do I still send them to Sunday school until I figure out what the "alternative" is, since they like it there? If I consider myself an attachment parent, why the hell is it so hard to just go with what the kids need?? WHY can't it be easier for me to just play, to come up with things to do together? Given the choice I'd rather have someone else be in charge of them, while I do the kitchen. IS THAT why the homeschooling emails make me cry? That I feel like I'm in familiar, good territory, and can't follow suit? I want to be that parent, that is relaxed enough, understanding and patient enough to allow the kids to just be, to give them opportunity to grow on their own terms. I want to be able to live without tv on, and know they won't drive me insane because they don't have the tv anymore and will want more of me. I fantasize about living in a commune; being surrounded by like-minded people, not being alone (which I suck at!), being surrounded by people who care about what they put in their bodies and what they leave behind, that will be a good influence on me. That will make me shy away from foods that have food coloring. I want to not be an idiot and buy the "Limited Edition White Chocolate Pirate's of the Caribbean M&M's" and then eat them within the shortest time possible. How come I can't stick to the Weight Watchers wisdoms that help me stay healthy and wholesome? How come I can't believe it when a man (not mine) tells me that he likes me the way I am? How come that man' s opinion of me, whichever it is, should matter? Why do I need to be that ideal me, that has the body I want, the discipline to eat well? Why do I question even my sexuality? Why does the thought of 'not having seen myself for what I am' seem so daunting to me? I wonder if I were to come out and say "I am bi." if most my friends would say "Well, I kinda knew that." If I constantly have crushes on boys and also "appreciate" women's bodies, does that make me bi? (Ok, so I drool over good-looking women! I'll point them out to my hubby and we'll stare together...) Am I in denial about how much I want from women? (I think I'd rather have a threesome with another man than another woman...) What the FUCK does it matter if I'm bi or straight??

I feel so clueless about EVERYTHING right now. I feel like I have a key clue right in front of my nose and can't see it. That is VERY frustrating. When I made that list I realized the only thing I don't question is my husband. Well, that's at least something.

What do I want?
Be a better parent. Eat better. Deal with the heat better. Be less hormonal. Be less dependent on other people. Be less dependent on other people's opinions. I WANT TO BE IN CONTROL. I want to have all the answers. Geesh. I liked the blog better when it ended on "I don't question.. my husband."

my favorite myspace find from days of old

2006-05-26T16:56:00.003-04:00

I think of this often. I figured I'd share it since there's nothing quite like seeing it for yourself.

summer unbreak

2006-05-22T08:03:00.001-04:00

My 5yo has only 3 days left in preschool. I've already mentioned how it freaks me out that he'll go to public school in the fall, so this last week of a good thing, of letting a preschooler grow and get used to things like ABC's and 123's, of learning how to behave around other human beings makes me sad because of the transition. But it also scares me on a totally different level: THREE AND A HALF MONTHS OF 5YO EVERY DAY!!!! CRAPCRAPCRAP!

Ok, so I have some things lined up already, but it doesn't take care of the whole summer! We have an awesome proposition to visit a friend weekly (or even more often) to go to her private pool. 3yo can't go to public pools due to the risk of contaminants her immune-suppressed little body might ingest. We have two vacation bible school weeks, that makes me VERY happy! Then a friend from playgroup has this "summer quest" of seeing sights in DC in alphabetical order. Not to mention strawberry picking is coming up soon. Hopefully a trip to Germany will fill out a big void. That's it though. Not a daily time filler. Actually, another friend and I were already plotting which playgrounds have shade at what time of the day to just be like nomads wandering from playground to playground. I should make a list of all the friends we've wanted to have playdates with but couldn't because of hectic schedules and get it done! Oh, ok, maybe I only need to panic a little bit.

an itch scratched at last

2006-05-21T14:29:00.001-04:00

On Saturday R and I went to a party of one of my cyber-friends from my MySpace days. He's the one who started the whole blog party thing, or rather, I added him as a friend first and from that grew the thing where we'd have blog parties taking up the entire day. Well, he's a DJ and the party was a half hour away at a DJ friend's house. I met three people I had grown to know almost intimately during the blog parties and even more people whom I befriended and knew about on the periphery. It was so liberating not to wonder anymore what they'd be like in person. It was a relief to see that they are just as much fun to be with in person as they were online, before I quit MySpace. I also got to dance for the first time since the dawn of time, and it was SO MUCH FUN! I didn't get kicked out for "wrong" dance moves, I might just still be young enough to dance... (Just kidding, I know I am!)

This itch has been with me since June of last year, and last night I finally got to scratch! Hard not to get sucked back into MySpace now, but I'm strong and I can DO EEET!

insight BLEEP

2006-05-16T17:14:00.001-04:00

Can it be called insightful if the thing you learned is something you had already grasped at an earlier point in life and just had to re-grasp? I feel like such a dork to have to stumble over truths and life lessons repeatedly. I guess I'm just ignoring the signs until I've run around in circles so long that it's inevitable and I'm back to the same intersection that gave me that big "aha" moment. Bleepin' insight.

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

Since this is such a lame post I decided to go into an unrelated bit about cursing. I love to cuss. (Even saying "cuss" is better than "cursing", gives me a better (naughty?) kind of feeling!) Saying BLOODY HELL is so much better than the alternative: "Bloody heck". FUCKING SHIT should be just that, not this really sad attempt: "F'ing Bleep". What's with "Shoot" instead of the simple "SHIT"? PU-LEASE!! And "Fudge" just don' cut it, ok?? Same with gosh darnit. GODDAMMIT or DAMMITTOHELL is more like it. I've been trying to edit my speech for the kids' sake, but "bleeping bleep" is so pitiful it makes me wanna cry AND laugh.

rug pulled out from under me

2006-05-15T15:17:00.001-04:00

I am utterly stunned. I just did a budget for the first time in eons. I knew I had been kidding myself about how much we can afford. But I had no idea just how broke we are. At this time, I can't even breathe. It looks like we will have to come back from that mental vacation and get real again. I am scared to death. What really blows my mind is how you can overspend so much without a real immediate effect. I can predict already that I'll be a real mopey party pooper. This means less money for hobbies, less alcohol and special extras. Less eating out is a given. I wonder, will this have to go as far as the gym and weight watchers?? I can't breathe.