What I, as a mom, appreciated about this Teen Lit novel...

Even at thirty five years old, it is sometimes nice to reflect back on what it was like to be seventeen. Sarah Dessen'snovel What Happened to Goodbye did just that. In a story which feels like a glimpse in seventeen year old Mclean Sweet's journal, no matter the age of the reader it would not take much to connect with the characters here... 

Click this link to read more of my review on What Happened To Goodbye...

Apparently I've been mistaken...

Genny, my lovely twelve year old, has been walking around this house treating me, and occasionally her dad, like complete crap. In fact, only when she is involved in exactly what she wants to be doing- is she nice at all. Upon finishing school, her summer days have looked like this: 

1) lay around and read. 

2) Watch a movie or some tv. 

3) lay around and read. 

4) hang out with a friend. 

5) sleep til ten. 

6) lay around and read. 

When reminded to do a chore, she simply says "K", and retreats to her room to... yep, you guessed it: lay around and read! 

Considering her injury, (which I'll remind my readers, happened AT A SUMMER PARTY, with her friends and a slip and slide) we've been a little lenient on what responsibilities she has. Chw even mowed the lawn, which he HATES to do, while she was sad because she loves it. 

Here's the thing though...

She just got her first cell phone.* 

And, just in time for vacation, an iPod touch*. 

She started off this week at a sleepover. 

The kid somehow manages to score a Sonic Happy Hour drink almost every day. 

The girl leads a charmed life. 

So this morning, when she wakes up and is right off the bat wickedly mouthed and hateful I asked her "why?" Her response knocked me off my feet and I still can't seem to close my jaw properly... 

I just get so mad because my life is so hard and it isn't fair!!!! 

Huh... 

And here I thought I had it bad... What with the cooking, and the cleaning WHILE working from home... With the being treated like garbage by the only person I see consistently every day; and the driving (in a hot car) to the parties and the birthday celebrations and the sleepovers and the movie theater... 

I guess I've been wrong. 

* there are people, even in our daily lives going: What??? How could you get her a cell phone? Well, as we've told them I felt the need to also tell the world- we've been really responsible about it. It was actually her brother's phone, before he left for Germany. AND it has amazing parental features. For instance, she has 12 contacts. The rest of the phone is locked. She cannot text. She cannot add contacts. She cannot call anyone BUT her contact, nor can she receive calls from anyone other than her contacts. It's amazing... 

* as for the iPod touch. The same, sensibly concerned people seem to be concerned with the internet options on the iPod. Well, proud to say those are blocked too. She has movies and videos on there, which are nice for car rides and such. BUT she's only 12. She needs parental guidance... 

Ya Flip and Ya Flop...

I made the spontaneous decision to join a super fantastic Flip Flop Swap this summer, and wow am I glad I did! My swap partner Janette is wonderful! Not only does she put together adorable parties, (and we ALL know how I love parties) but she introduced me to Yellow Box flip flops. Am I the last person on the planet to know about these shoes? It's been like hard to part with these babies at bedtime because my feet feel so fantastic in them. 

Let's face it, if I didn't love summer already- it's even more certain now! 

She also sent a Cowboys cup holder (FAVORITE NFL team. :) ) And a couple of Texas t-shirts... 

What a fun swap this was! Thanks Janette! (And Becca!)

A Haunting Summer Read...

I had the complete privilege of reviewing A Discovery of Witches for our BlogHer Bookclub. Being dubbed the Twilight For Grown-Ups, I was sometimes confused and often at the edge of my seat while reading... 

In her debut novel, Deborah Harkness has somehow managed to weave a story full of adventure, history, passion, science, seduction and every other entertaining and thought provoking element a reader could need. For my review in it's entirety, go here, or simply click the badge link to the left... 

The (old) saying goes...

I went to my doctor yesterday and I have a rib out of place.

I have a significantly bruised collar bone. It's very tender and sore. 

I went to an amazing concert Sunday night. {So, So, So Amazing!}

I have not gone to bed before 1 a.m. for the past 4 nights due to my crazy and youthfully wild lifestyle... 

While all of these these are sort of true- they sound a lot more exciting than they are. 

For instance one could think my collar bone and rib issues came from said amazing concert. They could have too, if we'd gone for the cheap FLOOR tickets.(Man, some crazy stuff was happening down there!) However, we splurged (double) for bar tickets so we could be up above the floor with all of the old people. (by "old" of course I mean, the over 21 crowd.) 

We also had an AMAZING view of this guy... *Swoon*... 

While on the topic of old though, (which is all the rib issue seems to be tied to... as for the bruising- who knows.) I saw my first real-life-cougar. I've heard older women, (guideline to be an "older" woman, as I age, is 15 years older than me.) joke about chasing young men but I've never witnessed such a thing. In the bar of the club there was an 18 (at most) year old kid with a woman well over 50. She was dressed like she was 15. There was way too much PDA going on. It was, honestly, pretty repulsive to watch. She kept sneaking him into the restricted area and they kept getting kicked out. Did I mention she dressed like she was 15? Well, she acted like she was 12. 

Maybe my 12 year old acts more mature actually... 

But yeah. While the concert (which was amazingly awesome- I repeat) did make me feel a bit younger, (like maybe 32 vs. the actual 35 that I am) I learned that I've finally transcended into the phase of life where I will only plan on attending concerts of people I absolutely love. Last year we traveled down to see 30 Seconds to Mars and Mutemath. While it was a fun show and i love both bands- I am content to cross them off of my check list and never see them again. Thankfully Sunday's show was a band I'd walk barefoot over glass- to the ends of the earth- to see... no regrets there. 

As for my wild and crazy lifestyle. Ha. Ha. Friday night Chw and I snuck out to a super late show of Bad Teacher with some friends. Suffice it to say while the concert made me feel a little younger- that movie made me feel 60. It ticked me off more than it made me laugh. Bad, Bad Movie should have been it's chosen name.

Then on Saturday night we partied with friends, until the wee hours of the morn'. This is, of course, if partied means one margarita, a barbecue and board games. Woo hoo... Just like wee hours of the morn' of course means after midnight. 

With my four night's in a row crazy late bedtimes (Monday night was late because i had to catch up on my DVR and the Glee Project, of course)- crawling out of bed this morning was a chore. I mean, four late nights is a habit now- right? I was tempted to snooze my alarm and proceed with my newly developed rockstar lifestyle, but then I remembered I had a 9 a.m. appointment. 

At the salon. 

To cover up my grey hairs. 

Nifty Fifty...

It's been awhile since i participated, but i was inspired by this challenge today, over at Mama Kat's, so here I am... 3.) Create a bucket list of 50 things you want to do this summer (with or without the kids!)

1. Sink my toes where the sand and sea kiss.
2. Spend an afternoon feeding ducks and geese. 
3. Take my nieces and nephews to the water park. 
4. Drink sun tea by the gallons. 
5. Drink fresh squeezed lemonade as often as possible. 
6. Peach picking. 
7. Fresh Peach canning. 
8. Fresh, crisp salads for lunches and dinners. 
9. Nighttime park movies, under the stars. 
10. Sleeping in a tent. 
11. Sunday afternoon picnics. 
12. Dining Al' Fresco.
13. Campfire warmth, shadows and sounds. 
14. Campfire smores. 
15. Explore the woods. 
16. Smell chlorine. a lot. 
17. Lay and reading on a beach towel.
18. Lay and read on the cool grass of the park, beneath the weeping willow tree. 
19. Tiger's blood snow cones. 
20. The drive- in theater. 
21. Talking beneath the stars. 
22. Bike rides. 
23. River floating. 
24. Sunscreen. 
25. Twinkle lit evenings on the patio. 
26. Barbecues with friends. 
27. Tennis. 
28. Glasses of wine as the almost-midnight-sun sets. 
29. Sprinkler rainbows, within reach in my yard. 
30. Farmer's market Saturday mornings. 
31. Summer concerts. 
32. The sound of joyful screams and coasters swirling about, around me. 
33. Family frozen yogurt runs. 
34. Fresh berries adorning cakes, pancakes, muffins, salads and sticky tiny child-hands. 
35. Popsicle smiles. 
36. Summer photos. 
37. Shimmery, lime scented lotion. 
38. California sunsets. 
39. Time with our amazing Oregon friends. 
40. Smoothies. 
41. Fresh cut flowers vased on table tops and nightstands. 
42. Flip flops revealing painted toe nails. 
43. Strawberry, yogurt and granola breakfast sundaes. 
44. Sidewalk chalk artist in residence and her creations. 
45. Relaxed afternoons. 
46. Watermelon, crisp and icy. 
47. Cool inspiring mornings to write or read by. 
48. Fajita and Margarita Fridays.
49. Grilled summer flatbread pizzas. 
50. Summer lovin', hand holding and being with the man I love... 

Oh Dear, things were on the rise...

Dear Aqua Net, 

   I would like to start off this letter of extreme gratitude with a warm and sincere thank you... 

   Over this past weekend a dear friend, from high school, decided to post the image of a note I had written him, from back in the day. My poor grammar, {which was completely a rouse, I assure you, to hide my otherwise brilliant writing skills} and familiar signature stirred a long-since-put-to-bed nostalgia for me. Wanting to link my arms with my own versions of the scarecrow, tin man and cowardly lion- I retrieved boxes of memorabilia from the attic and set to digging... 

   Imagine my complete embarrassment and shame pride when I came upon my first discovery of the afternoon... 

   I am sure if my then friend would see this she would only feel complete remorse that her silky, smooth hair didn't stand as high as mine. 

   As an average to high grade earning high school girl I managed to somehow have enough money to afford my Clearly Canadians, my skittles and my cans of Aqua Net with my meager $15.00 a month allowance. This is thanks to you, as well. Not only do I have my stunningly gorgeous hair to hold you inspiration for- 

BUT your affordability obviously made all of the difference in the world... 

  Thank you, Aqua Net, for making my high school experience so uniquely rewarding and for keeping my self esteem and pride on the higher end of things... 

   With gratitude, 

M

~~~~~

Dear Bandanna, 

   Oh, where to begin... 

   

Thanks... 

Wait. I'm not going to lie. I'm not really sure I'm all that grateful for how I used you then. Now though, when I'm cleaning my bathroom or aspiring to dress like a gang member- you rock. 

M

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear gorgeous Idaho sunset, 

I am sorry I tainted you so. 

Forgive me? 

M

the depths of despair...

Father's day was one of those frustrating days that, for all intents and purposes should be wonderfully reflective but because life has a way of complicating things- it became less so. 

Significantly less, honestly... 

On Saturday Chw was short tempered and moody. We'd had a great Friday night, and he'd slept in that morning so, for the life of me, I couldn't quite psychoanalize why he was being cantankerous. For the most part Gen and I ignored his mood, and Amanda went to work. As the day progressed, and we made our way to the Roller Derby bout- he seemed to even out and all was right with the world again. 

Enter Sunday morning. Homemade cinnamon rolls, warm and gooey... Cards, kisses, hugs, doting affection, new clothes and plans for taking him to his dream museum while we are on vacation- were passed out. Happiness flooded around us, or should have. 

Then I remember... For us, Father's Day always sucked. 

How could I forget? 

There is the slap-in-your-face reminder that we had craptacular father experiences growing up- (aside from my foster dad, as I've mentioned, but the details only complicate this further- so moving on.) And then, when we were still but babies ourselves Father's Day (and Mother's Day) served as a blatant kick-in-the-teeth reminded of the babies we'd lost. 

Well into our 30's, we don't dwell on such things now. My husband is a truly great dad and we love our kids more than we can possibly sum up in words and phrases. I was one hundred percent eager to shower him with the adoration he deserves- but from the start the day seemed off. 

Then, during a quiet mid-morning moment he confessed to me why his mood had been off the day before. 

Because he feels like a fake dad. 

A fake dad... 

And I couldn't hug him hard enough. Then Genny took him (and me) to see Kung Foo Panda 2 and it sort of made me want to crawl in bed and cry the day away. For my husband. For our kids. All he wanted today, honestly, was to spend the day with us. He wanted his life to feel real, validated and authentic. But for him, it's already (by the nature of life) a sensitive day... And for our oldest daughter, it's just an unexplainable complicated day. Instead it sort of took on this element of sadness... 

Sadness sucks. 

And then, when he went out of his way to do something nice, his family just sort of heaped on the hurt. Also with details far too complicated to delve into here- he came home emotionally beaten and trying to put on a brave face. He actually felt GUILTY for ruining our efforts, so he spent the rest of the day pretending. 

All in all, it's far too much to bear for one man. I felt so helpless... 

The morals of this melancholy tale are- 

- infertility/miscarriage sucks ass everyday, but some days are far worse than others. (primarily Father's Day, Mother's Day, baby showers, etc...) 

- loving kids, as though they were your own, who have been hurt before you is hard. So hard. So sad because you love them and though some wounds heal, those scars will always be a part of who they are. Also, like an ugly monster, those scars will rise up and effect you on the biggest, most significant of occasions... and on holidays. Like Father's Day and Mother's Day. 

- Sometimes life is unfair and it sucks. 

- Being sad unexpectedly, or still hurting from something that was a long time ago isn't self pity- it's just the way it is sometimes. Losses, like those of babies, children, parents, innocence, childhood, etc are real life losses... they leave a part of you empty for the long haul. 

- Be sensitive to people who have lost babies or been abused. PLEASE don't tell them to "get over it" because it was "a long time ago." 

The end... 

The Summer We Came to Life...

First off, I wanted to welcome you back for book two of our summer book club! I have been asked by several people if I would consider extending the club from August to September and I've decided to do that! 

I am REALLY Excited to read our June-July novel! 

The Summer We Came to Life written by Deborah Cloyed... 

You can read about the book by simply clicking either or both links above. I'm sure, if you participated in last month's book, you'll notice there are a few similar themes. I'm excited about that. I have read wonderful press on this book and think it's a great fit for our little group! 

Make sure to send me a note or come back and leave a comment if you plan on joining us! 

Happy reading... 

New to the club, or need a reminder? 

Here's how it works: 

- On the 3rd Monday of each summer month, {May, June, July, August} I will post that month's summer title. 

- On the Friday BEFORE "announcement Monday" I will put a post up about the book, and we can discuss. {Of course, last summer many discussion happened, in many formats, between those dates- and that is absolutely fine.} 

That's it... One book per month (easy commitment) with the benefit of connecting with other's who are also reading it... Couldn't ask for a better summer goal! 

So, what are you waiting for? Grab your favorite book mark, convince your sister or best friend to join us and head to your local library or book store and start reading today... {And then come back on July 15th...}

The Wednesday Sisters...

I feel like there is so much to talk about when it comes to The Wednesday Sisters! I've been getting lots of feedback from readers. Some have really loved elements of the story line, or characters while others have found too much of the book to be outlandish and unrealistic. 

In a super quick nutshell, in true Wednesday Sisters fashion, I will start out by saying what I really appreciated about the book... 

- I absolutely adored these five women. I loved how they guardedly became more translucent with one another as their friendships deepened. I loved growing to know them through their completely human strengths and weaknesses. Though I've not read anything else by Meg Waite Clayton, I really loved her character development in this story. 

- The imagery painted of the era, (as well as the area) made the five year time frame as much of a character and a part of the Wednesday Sisters as the girls themselves... Not an easy task, I imagine. It seems like there is a fine line between coming across as an encyclopedia excerpt and a description full of cliche' pop-culture hype. Instead of either one of those extremes I felt the time alive, as though I'd been there with my own recollections of the moments... (which I wasn't, being born in 1976) 

- Even though I knew that the story line with Danny was headed somewhere huge and relevant to today, I deeply loved unwrapping it through the story. Being someone who is bored to tears at the mere mentioned of Silicon Valley, where we are visiting next month (plans set in motion long before I'd even heard of this book), I'm not really interested. Chw will be thrilled as he gets wrapped up in the history of all that technological stuff... 

- I saw myself in each of them. I related to each main character in one way or another. 

- I was completely immersed in the way the era, for women, paralleled their lives, self discoveries and the evolution of their friendship. 

- One of my favorite scenes, if you will, was the one leading up to the moment when Frankie crowned Danny Mr. America. LOVED it. i loved the moment when, beyond her own lonliness, hurts and rejection she allowed herself to see her husband for the man he truly was- and embrace him. So often we do that- we place our spouses (and others) in these one dimensional little boxes. I equally loved how his eventual (and natural) reaction to this was stepping up in support of her passions and taking pride in her. SO true to marriage..

- I was moved, beyond words at times, by gestures made between them. By the raw reality of their situations. The section of the book where Jeff reacted to Linda's lump- heart wrenching. There wasn't anything plastic or "story book perfect" about it. He reacted as any human could, be they a husband or a doctor. Later, with her secrecy. The reasons why she kept things to herself. How she dealt with the loss of her mother, even so many years later. Gripping. The same with Kath's marriage. What a horrible position to be put in NOW, but then? With the societal standards the way they were- not to mention the familial pressures. Impossible positions. Jim and Ally... Being one who has carried that infertility burden, as I know many of you also have, my heart just throbbed for her. The loss of pregnancy along with that stripped feeling of failure and the loss of femininity and purpose is beyond hell. When you throw in the issues with Jim's race, mixing it with an era barely progressed from the Civil Right's movement and everything just seems so much heavier. I truly could go on and on about these things, these beautifully woven and written things with honestly did make me deeply love The Wednesday Sisters- both the characters and the book... 

To be brutally honest though, {And because they were with one another, I kind of feel like I have to be...} i struggled with a few of the elements of the story which felt plastic. Specifically four of them... 

One would be the ending. Or at least the beginning of the ending. Namely the Johnny Carson moment, on. While larger than life things do happen, and dreams really do come true like that, once in a blue moon (is that enough cliche' references for ya'll?) I felt like the pages of this book seemed to be awfully full of them. (to clarify, I do not mean full of Cliches, i mean full of unrealistic things.) Meg paints such a vivid and evolving canvas for us, complete with intricately crafted historical tie ins. She does this so BRILLIANTLY that the majority of the novel felt, to me, so real and homey... But then you have these great big "fix alls" that make it all seem, well, familiar and synthetic. The ending, for me, was like that. 

Second would be Hope. I'm sure there were readers thrilled with the Hope storyline, but I wasn't. I am sure, at my confession of this, a few people would say it's because my own miscarriage and fertility story never resulted in the birth of a baby. That's not my problem with the storyline though. My problem with it is that, almost always, the story ends this way. The broken and desperate girl loses baby after baby, dying a little more inside each time and then her happily ever ending comes neatly wrapped in a bundle of baby goodness. Statistically when you take women who have multiple miscarriages, like this, less than 2% of them can carry a baby long enough to sustain it's life without loads of money and the assistance of some major medical technology. Developping the character in such a tragically honest way and then plucking a baby (or two, actually) in her arms is like cutting a blooming rose off at the stems tip, just beneath the blossom. Depth is gone. Root- gone. Plastic. And, the 98% of the statistic, who read this book and never get that happy ending- where is their character to relate to? Where is their little kernel of life to embrace here? 

Third is Kath's job. Not that it couldn't happen. Again, I just felt like there were too many "amazing developments" taking away from the "reality and relatable" aspects of an otherwise great book. 

Fourth was the running. I never understood why, out of the blue, Linda had become a runner. Then, after she's sick she mentions her mom being so weak before she died. She talks about how she is so much stronger than her mother. It made sense then, that she'd been a runner. I saw that, then, in her character. The drive. The passion for it... The belief that by running she could control something bigger than she dare speak of. So it just annoyed me a little bit that she hadn't always been a runner. 

So, enough of my tangents and praises... I want to hear from you! Thoughts??? What did you love about it??? What didn't you love about it??? 

A few other questions: 

- did you find yourself wishing you could have a Wednesday Sister type group? 

- which character did you find you related more with? 

On Fatherhood...

My first "life" lesson was probably on that of fathers. Mostly because mine was absolutely nowhere to be found, in a very small town where a chunk of his family still remained. While those remnants of family members worked hard to slander my girlhood name- my father never managed to come rescue me as I wished he would. 

 Lesson learned: I'm worth nothing if even my own father refuses to love (or even meet) me.

The funny thing about life lessons though, is they keep evolving.

I dreamed of him saving me from my step father and his lust for me. 

Lesson learned: If I am worth anything at all, the only worth is in sexual things. 

When life intervened and I ended up in a group home, I imagined my father riding in {looking quite a lot like Joe Penny, circa mid'80's}and dadding me in the way that a dad should dad his daughter. {yep, I did just make a verb. It's allowed.} When i was fifteen, however, my birth mom grew weary of me placing my complete-stranger of a father upon a pedestal and she sent him a letter. He replied, to me, with pages and pages of beautifully penned words of love. 

Pedestal earned. My daddy loved me. My daddy wanted me. 

Two years passed before I would meet him- an event which no one bothered to emotionally prepare me for. I completely shut down/withdrew during the few hours we had together. Honestly I remember none of it. Later, though, when word got back to me that he was disappointed in me and wished he hadn't met me- I completely lost my compass.

Lesson learned: I was a disgusting, repulsive girl. I would never amount to anything. 

Roughly six years later, I was a twenty three year old divorced girl who had just had a complete hysterectomy. I was a little overwhelmed and making some fairly self destructive choices. One night, on a long car ride back to Boise from my foster parents mountain home, my foster dad (whom I just call dad.) Told me of his love for me. He touched on disappointments in choices I had made, expressed deep seeded concerns he had and recounted how he had been the one (as in, one and only) to sit, wringing his hands, in the waiting room while I'd had tumors removed. (The hysterectomy had not been scheduled. Cancer had been the giant fear that day.) He talked about shared holidays and the eleven years he'd spent daddying me and how blessed he felt by the trust I had given but that he wished I'd really give in and trust him more. 

Lesson learned: I was a blind fool. I had a dad. An amazing dad. Blood was irrelevant. 

Three years post that car ride conversation, my father made it known (via his wife) that he wanted another go at things. He felt crippled in his insecurity but wanted to really make things work with me. Except they didn't work. Around my husband's very crazy work schedule (he traveled, a lot) and my youngest's school and special needs routine- both Chw and i felt like we were moving mountains to treck the 6 hours south to spend quality time getting to know them. Though I had grown up a lot, I had enough self respect to know that I'd take time with opening up and very openly communicated that, to which both he & she had claimed complete sensitivity and understanding. 

But they were not sensitive. 

And they were not understanding. 

They kept score of my multitude of imperfections and each trip down there, which led me to opening up more and more of my brokenness and love, became some catwalk for their secret judging and score keeping to commence. 

On my 29th birthday, via a string of hateful emails my father's wife spoke for both of them as she attempted to insult me to my core and shatter me. Though the shards of her hatred did hurt, I was (thankfully) able to see her words for what they were. She'd never taken the time or made the effort to truly know me. To truly know us. The only person their words deeply wounded was my attachment disorder daughter who loved them and still, six years later, wishes they knew and loved her. It was her their rejection hurt. A tiny child who'd already been hurt so much by the time she made it to our family... 

Lesson learned: Their loss is indeed the most significant. My father hole was no longer a gaping canyon. 

{sidenote: we spent the entire next day riding roller coasters and playing in the ocean. I thought, not one little time, about them. There was no heaviness... second sidenote: For years, following, I did include them in our Christmas card list. This was always for Genny. She still, though I don't understand it, loves them. In the grand scheme of her life with us- they hold but a blip. Because she'd never had "grandparents" before them, though- that blip made a pretty big impact. I regret giving them that power over her. They didn't deserve the gift of her love...}

After another six years, I look at my husband. I look at this man who hasn't blinked an eye over my inability to birth a little us. He adores our kids and I know him, I know his heart. He physically could not love them more. I look at my dad, (from a distance, as he lives in Kansas and I haven't seen him for over a year) and I know the man he is. Such a good man... An amazing man. I look at our friends, and the men we know. Men who love and work for their children. Men who know basic things like their children's favorite colors and bigger things like their fears and secrets. 

Lesson learned: Fatherhood is as much a verb as it is a season. Without the action, canyons are made. Real men were born to be real dads... Every guy's got a sperm count, but it's the heart to care about following through with that- which matters. 

EVERY child deserves to have a loving, attentive and selfless father. (even me). 

EVERY man does NOT deserve to be a dad... 

A celebratory update...

Last Thursday I blogged about a special birthday and I received a few sweet comments and quite a few more dear emails about my daughter, your daughters, motherhood, etc... It was so sweet, and touched me so much that I felt like I couldn't not share how we chose to celebrate! 

1} We had a brunch on our fine china, complete with dangling 21's, and 21 fresh cut roses. 

2} Dangling 21, like I mentioned...

3} Chw made mushroom and pepperjack omelets, toast and we did a fresh fruit plate. 

4} I made her my first EVER Tiramisu. (It's her favorite dessert) 

5} a 21st birthday brunch wouldn't be right without champagne for mimosas! 

6} Isn't she lovely? She had a great birthday! :) 

Thanks for your notes and well wishes! I'm truly, truly blessed... 

Closetted Confessions...

Since Gen was at a Girl Scout retreat having fun over the weekend, Chw and I took the opportunity to get some much needed things taken care of. One being our master closet. Before it was just a little space used impractically. Our clothes were crapped together on one long rod and his shabby thrifted dresser (poor guy) was crammed at the back beside the shelves. The problem is, along with holding our clothes this is also the present hiding space, the "stuff taken away" holding space, the music instrument storage space, the pretend wii musical instrument storage space, the sheets and blankets space, the photography equipment storage space and probably something else I've failed to mention... 

In the mornings when Chw quietly gets ready for work, he had to dig through his dresser, crammed at the back of the closet. His hanging clothes were behind it, squished on the rod along with all of mine. To simply locate a pair of work jeans it was like a quest for Narnia for him- and really, who wants to start off every morning like that? 

SO, we moved his ugly dresser to the front of the closet and set up a rod for his clothes opposite mine. Now, his clothes are at the front of the closet and are super easy to get to. As we were working on it, I joked with my dear husband about blogging it and titling it "My husband is finally closer to coming out of the closet." In all fairness, he was the first one to say "Look! I am working my way to coming out of the closet." 

He's so funny... 

But, as funny as he is, I'm not sure his laugh would have been entirely authentic had I actually titled the post that... 

hmm... Anyway, short of having a few divinely adorable baskets and canvas totes to hold things over the few ugly cardboard boxes I have things stored in- I'm really happy with it. There is more of a flow, which is a good thing for both of us... 

Plus! Added bonus: every time we go out he wears the same shirts because he can't find most of his clothes... NO MORE! 

Genny's attempt to repair the economy with her isms, while plundering us into debt...

Towards the end of last week, Gen went to a party where Gen proceeded to break her hand.
Ok. It's not exactly broken, but it is fractured...
We didn't know that however. Everyone seemed to be calling it a severe sprain, so we sent her on her merry little way to a Girl Scout retreat, where she (against everyone's orders) proceeded to be a total kid with her hand and use it anyway. (Of all the nerve!)
So, back to the ER yesterday, for more X-rays resulted in them sending her home with an even-more-severe sprain diagnosis.
Then they called later with the news... And a good Orthapedist referral.

And it all kinda sucks because, well, she's in a lot of pain and her hand is pretty ugly and purple and puffy... And, it also kinda (a lot) sucks because we have the worlds crappiest insurance. It covers nothing. At all. In fact, why we pay for it monthly is beyond me. So yeah...
Not that my twelve year old really comprehends the amount of new debt she has incurred. I mean, when she hurt her hand- she laughed it off and then KEPT going on the slip and slide. FOR HOURS. Everyone believed she was fine, so no one felt the need to call me. After hours of slipping and sliding, she then decided how awesome it would be to play tether ball.
They are pretty sure she escalated her injuries substantially by not discontinuing her jolly-good-time.

And as frustrated as we are about this, we are so grateful she's ok. I mean, with her level of play and refusal to heed common sense, her body's communication of severe pain or our (and the doctor's) good advice- she could have ripped an arm off if no one had intervened and that would have sucked a lot worse than several thousands of dollars in medical bills...

Which segways me into a little something we like to call gennyisms...

Because her favorite saying, which applies to this ENTIRE severely overpriced weekend applies, is:

Later doesn't matter. I'm having fun now so leave me alone. hmmm.

Some sweeter, but WAY OVERUSED ones are:

Awe! She is super cute. {Insert having just seen a dog, cat, animal of almost any kind, elderly woman, baby, toddler or little girl. If you can imagine how often we come across one of the above- either in real life, on the internet, or television- every day- than you can imagine HALF of how much she says this. Plus, we have 2 dogs and I swear even they get sick of hearing how cute they are.}

OHHH! He is super cute. {See above explanation substituting he for she.}

I feel so bad for him/her... {while watching a movie, tv show or reality tv competition such as SYTYCD. Last week during one two hour episode, we counted. She said this FORTY SEVEN times.}

But they are a person. {This follows hysterical sobbing, while watching movies where an animal is hurt or sad. Usually there is a human character who has been also injured or sad and we always ask her- because it's fun- why she never gets sad about the person while becoming nearly suicidal over the animal...}

*GASP* I did not do that/eat that! You can call daddy and ask him, he'll prove it. {of which, of course, he never proves and she is 99% of the time guilty. still I hear this daily.}

I'm going to go get into my bajamas. {yes, she's 12.}

Can I get a very small drink? (at bedtime.)

Can I get just a little bit more? (seconds at dinner.)

Can I watch just for a tiny few more minutes? (a movie, past bedtime.)

The girl LOVES her adjectives...

She also says the word Actually, a ridiculous amount...

And, though there are millions more, I'll close with these:

This my favorite movie! Well, maybe my third favorite. {and she will proceed to name thirty other movies, in order... and when we mention a movie she forgot, she will get flustered and start over. This is a 30 minute luxury that follows nearly EVERY movie she watches.}

Weekly conversation:
G- I think we should eat at McDonalds (which we don't).
me- why?
G- because it helps the economy and creates jobs.

No. i'm not kidding...

The infamous pediatric visit...

I love our pediatrician... I really do. She's got such a great personality and is just fantastic. Sometimes I wonder what she's like outside of all of the proper protacall...

Like when she asks my CHILD if she would like me to stay, or leave the room while she asks her some personal questions.

Or like when she asks Gen if she likes girls or boys. 

While I understand the need for the questions, she asks these EVERY year for Gen's check up. Pretty much since she was 8. And while I appreciate that, at 12, she's getting to the age where she is thinking about romantic things- at 8 she really wasn't... 

Anyway, I've talked to a lot of moms and i get that this is just the way it's done these days. Whatever. Gen affirmed that she likes boys, while bouncing up and down and blushing. She said "ewww, gross" when asked if she liked girls, which made the doctor laugh. 

And then, then the other questions set in...

What to you eat for breakfast? I don't know. Cereal. {the kid is lucky if she gets cereal once every two weeks, I am opposed to it!}

What do you eat for lunch? We mostly eat soup. {We had soup yesterday, because Amanda had soup. We hadn't had it in months.}

What do you eat for dinner? Um, I can't remember eating dinner. {Nice. hello. We don't believe in dinner... what the heck?!?!?}

Do you wear sunscreen? No! {I ALWAYS put sunscreen on her, but a week ago she went out with her dad and got burned a little on her arms... apparently that is an emphatic "NO!" to sunscreen.} 

And then, because she isn't really keen on homeschool families she asked the biggest question of all: 

Do you have any friends? To which my daughter looked at her, all puzzled and replied "What do you mean?" And when the doctor, looking quite alarmed, said "Friends your own age that you play or hang out with." She actually replied "Oh. No." 

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!? I think she was just confused by the interview in general- which doesn't look well on my home educating skills...

No wonder I came home and needed a nap! 

Twenty-One {a love letter}...

Dearest Amanda, 

Today is your twenty first birthday... A milestone {when you are 21} for things like a grown up ID, bars, clubs, partying, and all around different things than it will when you are looking back on it one day... Like when you are 31... 

On this day I bequeath to you a list of twenty one amazingly fantastic things that I love and admire about YOU!

1. You know exactly what you want. When you get it into your head, you work super hard to get there.
2. You have passion. 
3. You live. You do not sit around waiting for something in your life to happen. 
4. You don't pretend to be something you aren't. Because of this, it has occasionally cost you certain things or relationships... BUT- 
5. You acknowledge that, though it may be a sad loss- you are mature enough to realize that it is their loss and you are better off without them. 
6. You have an amazing heart and when you truly love someone, you do so with a love so huge and selfless...
7. You embrace laughter. You laugh with your entire soul, and you do it often. 
8. You take care of your car. Maybe you're later than you feel like you should be, when it comes to some maintenance things- but you still do them. 
9. Your shoes... Specifically heels and boots. Wow. I love my feet too much to ever try such footwear, therefore I can live vicariously through your boldness! 
10. Even when you may hate your job, you stick it out. Even when you are treated like crap, or underpaid- you go to work everyday and you do your job to the best of your ability. 
11. You are grateful. Not many people, your age, really "get" gratitude. Usually in it's place is entitlement.
12. You eat peanut butter on your pancakes. I mean, come on... how is that not the BEST way to eat pancakes??? some people just don't get it.
13. You are generous. Easily one of the MOST generous people I know...
14. You are an amazing big sister... To Gen. To N & T/J...
15. You are authentic. There are moments when you obviously feel like being 30, and you act it- while their are moments when you feel like being 10 and you embrace it with all that you are. 
16. You aren't afraid to try new things. Which goes along with- 
17. You have a tremendous spirit for adventure and travel. I hope you hold on to things, (and your drive to accomplish them) because this can fade in time and I'm prepared to nag you forever- so that it doesn't... 
18. You listen to people, and accept others, when they need a non-judgmental ear.
19. Your love of kids. It doesn't even matter whose kids- you are just naturally gifted with them and love it... 
20. You are a true overcomer. In every way you adapt, taking the good and moving on. I am so proud of you for this!
21. I love that you love and accept me. I'm grateful. I'm flawed and don't deserve to be your mom- but that doesn't matter to you. 

I hope that it's a beautiful day, and know that I am celebrating you- even in the moments today when you aren't with me. I love you!

When creativity is delivered by the cute UPS guy...

Due to law suits, car accidents, Naturopath physicians and other various normal adult life types of things- when my mom's birthday rolled around this year- I had not one single idea what to do for her. Combine with the fact that she's essentially home bound, fifteen hundred miles away and has little interest in much- or the ability to do anything. 

It was tough... 

And then, being the party lover that I am, I thought: why not throw her a party? 

So, Gen and I set to work...

Once the Surprise Party in a box was complete- we called her with the specific instructions that when the UPS guy brought it to the door- she was FORBIDDEN to open it without someone else present. (we didn't care who was there...) 

Each item was individually wrapped and numbered. Then, the entire top of the box was "wrapped", containing the packages below, and three cards on top. 

Card #1} A handmade invitation to her Surprise Party in a Box! along with instructions on opening them in numerical order. 

Cards #s 2 & 3} "happy birthday mom" and "happy birthday nana" cards, complete with singing (in the cards). 

Beneath the layer of gift wrap were these: 

1} a little birthday tiara

2} a package of "Party Princess" paper cups. 

3} an assortment of bottles of snow cone syrup.

4} an electronic ICEE machine. (she LOVES shaved ice but isn't strong enough to use a manual one like we have.) 

5} "Party Games" (little card and dice games) 

6} a package of "Party Princess" paper cake plates. 

7} a box of twinkies (her favorite), and a birthday candle.

8} her actual gift. 

Overall, flexible and complete budget friendly- but full of thought and fun. She loved it. Her "guests" loved it... The "party" continued all weekend long... Definite Win there... 

Spiderwebs... {A confession and a rant.}

There are a handful of people in my life who get really upset that I can't just sit down and talk to them on the phone whenever they feel like calling. I am sure there is an even larger portion of people who think I'm completely rude for commonly hitting my ignore button. I feel like, for years, I've been having to apologize for myself. There are all of these negative emotions, (guilt, fear of disapproval, annoyance, etc.) which come packed and tangled up in this one silly little phone thing. 

Here's the thing though- I don't like talking on the phone. 

there, i said it. 

I LOVE people. I love hanging out with people. I LOVE face to face conversations. 

When I don't have the luxury of sitting with someone, in person, I am usually spending my time doing something productive. Anyone who is a writer knows that you can not sit and talk on the phone while working. It is an impossibility. Anyone who has ever homeschooled knows that you can not educate your child while sitting on the phone talking. Again- impossibility. Why is it that people hear: home, and automatically think I'm just sitting around praying the phone will right? I am busy. 

I've had this very battle with my sister for years. In fact, it's all out fight sometimes. She loves to sit and talk on the phone. If I call her, (or answer) it's a good 90 minutes- at least- talking about the SAME things that are always talked about. She lives 10 minutes from my house. This, to me, is ridiculous. If she has nothing better to do but sit on the phone, why doesn't she load the kids up and bring them over here? 

So yeah... 

We've finally gotten to a place which feels normal. (and phone conversationless.) It's good... 

I will talk to my mom a few times a week, because she is in NM. I try to somehow (skype or phone) talk to Lucas weekly. {Then again, he's my son. I'll talk to my kids whenever they want.} About 1-2 times a month I'll talk to my best friend Debbie on the phone, though I honestly could stand to talk to her more than that. She's on the east coast. Otherwise, I just don't do it. It's a time waster, like facebook (in my opinion) only LESS productive... 

All of that to say, I've decided to let myself off the hook here- no pun intended. I'm tired of the bitter, juvenille remarks from distant relatives and people. I am so irritated at all of the two faced, back stabbing stupidity I'm tired of having to say "I'm sorry, I'm just really busy." In this era, we are blessed to have multiple forms of communication. There are phones, texts, emails, facebook, skype, etc... If you are getting all bent out of shape because I won't talk on the phone with you, but you REFUSE to compromise with one of the other five means of communication with me- than I'm sorry but the issue is yours and you are obviously the one who doesn't want to talk to me very badly... 

My Preface to Monday...

Just a glimpse... 

Quiet...

Quiet is not a word typically synonymous for our home, by any stretch of the word. Our dogs bark. Our youngest screams and yells... Sometimes we yell too. We love music. When we watch movies, the sound is high enough to really feel it. 

Then, though, a stretch of days come that surprise us with their quiet. 

Peaceful words. 

Calm emotions. 

Currents of love and compassion. 

For that brief moment of time there is no excess noise, no tension. 

Quiet. 

We've had a quiet week. It's been lovely. I have read an entire book. I am caught up on freelance deadlines. We've had soft conversations, tender snuggles and smiles. Lots of smiles. 

This week, I'm really loving the quiet... {though my blog is not...} 

Whine and Confessions...

- I am sure i've expressed on this blog countless times that i am not a fan of change. For five years now, my youngest has been on the waiting list for an amazing school which has the potential to help her so much educationally while furthering her in the directions in which she's passionately headed. Towards the end of this homeschool year I was really starting to hope and pray that this would be the year that she would finally make it in. I feel like she's getting to the point where she needs more than I can give her, AND it has just become such a battle, some days. 

So, we got the call, this week, that she made it in. (WOO HOO!) And now, now I'm freaking out... 

- Our family had dental appointments this week. Gen needs oral surgery and braces. It's a mess. I need to have some repair work done, and a tooth filled. We don't have dental insurance. Mess... 

- I started seeing a naturalpath. There was a lot leading up to this, but ultimately it was right for me. I knew the initial cost was big, and had saved for it. What i was NOT aware of was that she'd want to see me every 10 days for 40-50 days- at $100+, per visit. 

- Genny needs to go get an eye exam and get new glasses. 

- Chw needs new contacts. 

- We have a very modest family vacation planned and it's starting to feel like it will have to be completely chopped because within the course of a week we have all of this stuff that needs to be paid for. On top of car repair, normal living expenses, membership dues and renewals. And back to point 1: Uniform costs. Band Instrument costs. Book fees. Embroidery fees. And school starts in just over two months. How is that possible? 

- Which leads me to point out that though I'd have more time to write, (Woo hoo) and such, and my time with Gen would (likely) be much more peaceful- I just realized we would lose our complete time flexibility...

- Yesterday my new doctor asked me what my stress level was. I told her 2. Good thing she hasn't asked today, it would be 12. 

My Minimal May...