I have all this stuff!!

I have a ton of things to say. I can't seem to make myself sit down and write it. I need to, though. Not writing makes me spiritually constipated. Who the hell needs that???

So let's see here.

I'm missing my kids. My own, I mean. This time of year, with both of them, was those few precious weeks after they were born. Matt was born on June 22nd, Lyssa almost exactly six years later on June 18th. If you care sufficiently to do the math, this tells you that there were two Labor Day weekends that we really had nothing else to do.

They were little blobs of humanity that made adorable squeaking noises and smiled in their sleep. Melted my heart every time. It was such an amazing thing to hold those tiny people. One of my friends, who reproduced long before I did, told me in her first few exhausting days as a mom, "I thought I knew what love was, then I had Lindsey."

I smiled and listened to her tell me how wonderful that baby was. And she was, too. Sweet and round and pink, perfect skin. Angelic smile.
But I didn't really get it until I made one of my own. I doubt anyone really does until that point.

Those first few weeks they spent snuggled up and listening to my heartbeat and sleeping, mostly. Or demanding food and more snuggling in the middle of the night. I wish I'd known more with baby #1, I would have done things a little differently. But of course #1 is always the experimental model. I'm glad Matt was resilient in so many ways.

So I'm missing the babies.

I miss the adults they've become, too, but I'm not sad.

The adults they became are out in the world, being decent people.
I'm so proud of them both.

But early summer when the skies are that gorgeous deep blue, the flowers are blooming, July 4th approaching, I remember those babies and how it felt to hold them and how full my heart was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So work is proceeding as it usually does, I am not a huge fan of summer programs being run by this organization.

The summer site where I am working is okay in a few ways, but mostly a Mongolian Clusterfuck.

I had a little difficulty at first keeping my mouth quiet (or mostly so). But I will speak out when it's in the best interest of children, so I have had a little to say to our slightly-older-than-a-teenager summer director.

Mary's a nice person. And just because she's young doesn't mean she's stupid. She isn't. But she *is* a bit clueless.

I finally decided that I can ignore a lot of stupidity and airheadedness. Yes, I know that isn't a word that's currently in the dictionary, but I know what it means and admit it, you read it and you know, too. So that makes it a word.

Last week, a boy introduced himself to me. Shook hands, was polite and mature and friendly. This was observed by the camp director and her friends. Er, co-workers.

When I walked back over to finish setting up the painting project, Mary joined me. She said, "Yeah, Jerry has issues. He is disrespectful and hard to manage. Now that he's on medication, it's better, but he's a lot of trouble here."

I said something noncommittal, she wandered away to do something else and I finished what I was working on.

I didn't have a lot of interaction with him that day, he doesn't seem to really love art projects. He likes building things and running and knocking things over and acting like a child. I haven't seen him cause any trouble.

The next morning, Jerry came in with his dad. He got busy with his friends right away, building something in the corner. His dad walked over to Mary, they chatted for a moment, then Dad pulled a medication bottle out of his pocket. He popped the lid off, said, "Give him this at lunchtime," dumped a pill into her hand, stuffed the bottle back into his pocket and sauntered out the door.

She walked to the cup dispenser, got a paper cup, dropped the pill into the cup and put the pill in an unlocked and accessible-to-children cabinet.

Oh my god.

So I immediately walked to her and asked if we could talk.
"This is your site and your program, and I won't tell you how I think it should run or how you should do things. But what you just did is a very serious licensing violation. This is one that can get you shut down."

She looked surprised.
"What?" she said. "What violation?"

So I explained the childcare division rules about prescription (and non prescription) medications.

The medicine needs to be in a container labeled by the pharmacy with the child's name, prescribing physician, dosage etc. And is to be accompanied with a note from the doctor with instructions for administering the medication. A piece of paper goes into the ziplock bag with the bottle with a place for the staff person to initial and document the fact that the child has indeed been given the medication on schedule and as prescribed. And all of those things need to be in a LOCKED medication box.

This is not a procedure with any wiggle room. A person with a brain should know this. A person who is responsible for the safety of children has to know this.

And now she does.

To her credit, she thanked me for the information. She said that all the information/training she has has happened through watching what other people do. That she had no idea.

Oh good heavens.

They've failed to make sure kids are sunscreened, something else I brought up. Those kids spend FOUR HOURS a day outdoors.

Because they don't have enough things for them to do indoors and they lack the creativity and experience to find those things.

Since this isn't my first experience with summer camp, I do have that experience. A ton of it. I won't bore you with the list of what I brought again, but I will tell you that even with six large bins of art supplies and building materials, I am still understocked. But I'm working three days a week, I'm able to use the stuff I brought for multiple uses, and I'm able to relate to kids, regardless of location.

It's crazy, but I can manage to hang out there for the rest of summer. It won't be my favorite placement ever, but it will work. More or less.

There are other things driving me insane.
I can't leave my stuff out when I go home. I brought plastic storage bins and some boxes, and when I leave, all my yarn and other things get packed up. A lot of it comes home with me. I keep it in the trunk and unload it as needed.

I made the mistake of handing a small bin of yarn to Mary one day as I left, saying, "This is only for adults to hand out, I want to try to keep my supplies for some other projects."

When I returned to site the next time, two of my skeins of yarn were hopelessly tangled and cut in so many places it was impossible to get a piece of yarn more than two feet long, one was missing completely, and one had somehow ended up in the art room at the other end of the hallway.

I didn't bother saying anything to Mary and the Minions. Since I'd already made it clear that I expected it to be taken care of and they weren't able to manage that, it seemed sort of pointless to bring it up.

I just don't leave my yarn there now.

There's more to say. But damn. Getting close to bedtime.
Next time, okay?

                                                                                                                                                    

Over the river....

And through the woods... I'm sure your mind is already singing the rest of the song. Yes?

We packed up our little car and headed for John Day, Oregon on the evening of the 23rd. Lyssa and I had dental appointments in Sandy that afternoon, although in retrospect, once we'd decided to spend our Christmas away from home, (Eric's idea a couple weeks ago) we should have canceled the appointments.

Thing was, Lyssa was gone for almost a year and did not see a dentist in that time, so I wanted to make sure we kept her appointment.

I hadn't gone, either. I kept putting off the six month checkup until a whole year had passed for me, too.

It's about a four and a half hour drive to my parent's house from Sandy when the weather is good.

However, we were required to chain up the car to go up Mt. Hood. I say 'we', but it was my husband out there kneeling in the ice and snow, putting chains on our tires next to the road while the invincible people with 4wd and a deathwish whizzed by like fucking maniacs. At least he was on the passenger side of the car when the vehicle that sprayed our entire car with slush and ice passed. Assholes.

Eric never complains about the things he's forced to do to take care of his family, either. Just thought I'd add here that I married an amazing man.

When we got to the top, traffic was at a standstill. Apparently big trucks trying to come up the OTHER side could not get up the hill and they were towing them. One. At. A. Time. While traffic just sat. And sat. And sat. We ended up on the road for 9.5 hours. Possibly we were a little tired and more than a little crabby when we arrived at our destination at about 20 minutes past midnight. It was friggin' freezing, snow and ice and clear skies.

Checked in at our motel, then took Lyssa up to my mom and dad's house. She decided to take advantage of their guest room (she and my mom are particularly close) and we decided to sleep in a big bed in a quiet place.

Matt and Amy were able to come for Christmas, too, but we did not tell my parents they'd be there. They arrived about noon on Christmas Day. I was cooking in the kitchen and saw them approaching the door. I made them stand in the kitchen for a moment so I could go around the other way and see the look on my mom's face when they walked in. Her mouth fell open and stayed open for a good 30 seconds. A nice surprise.

There's more. We had a lovely time with family, sang some songs and opened presents and ate way more sugar than we should. More of everything else, too.

But those are things that are mostly interesting to me.
However, "they" say a picture is worth, well, a lot.
So here are a few.

Me with Mom and Dad. And Daisy. Who is not a dog, but a Tasmanian Devil.
My stupid brother thought it would be a good idea to get two elderly people who don't get around very well a Jack Russell Fucking Terrier about six years ago.

Alyssa, Matt, Amy, Me, My parents. And the Devil.

My son, his lovely wife, my parents and the devil's back.

My beautiful daughter

There was some snow.

The tie dyed pajama shirt I made for Mom. You can see my dad in the background, wearing one I made for him about a hundred years ago.

 

28

Annd.. another birthday.

My son, my first baby, is 28 years old today.
And like I said the other day when my baby baby turned 22, I don't understand how the time has gone by so quickly.

That surprised-looking baby boy the doctor held up in the delivery room has been gone a long time. :)

He's been replaced by a man. He's a good man, works hard to contribute to the partnership he has with his wife, calls his mother on occasion, called yesterday to wish his dad a good day.

We like him just fine. He's turned out to be a good one.

When we found out we were having a baby, we were really surprised. For whatever reason, it didn't happen when we wanted it to. I'd actually given up on the idea of having a child.

So when the 'Wow I am having a lot of heartburn...' turned out to be 'did you know you were pregnant?' it was shocking. The blood test showed "5 1/2 or six weeks post-conception."

One week later, my O.B. doctor told me I was "about 22 weeks."

"Weeks of what?" I inquired, dumbly.
"You are about 5 months pregnant."

Okay then!
We had an ultrasound a week later.

We were excited to find out he was going to be a boy, even though we asked the doctor not to tell us the sex of the baby.

He did the ultrasound, which I still have on VHS... a couple times during the procedure he says something like, "And you don't want to know the sex of the baby."

After he turned the machine off, he said, "Your son will be here about June 10th." He caught himself as he said it, looked embarrassed and quickly added, "Or your daughter!"

So we knew.
And five months to the day that I found out I was expecting him, he showed up. All 8lbs, 7.5 ounces. Scrawny. With great ridges on his head from being squished during the 28 hour labor/possible Klingon father.

Of course he was late. 12 days to be exact. And he's been running late ever since.

Happy Birthday, Matt.

In the news...

First, this story.... the headline cracked me up. CLACKAMAS, Ore. -- "Deputies are looking for a man armed with a gun that is believed to be driving a stolen car, the Clackamas County Sheriff's Office said."

I know that guns can grab you and make you knock over a liquor store, so I suppose I should not be surprised that a gun can drive a stolen car. But I was, a little.

Then this story. Someone with a journalism degree (probably still has wet ink on it) was trying to use BIG WORDS!!
"He had a meandering, sobering tone in his voice as he recalled what happened Saturday morning."

Meandering, sobering? I don't even. Ha.

Stephen King called stuff like that author intrusion. "Look Ma! Look how well I'm writing!!"

Here's a photo story about 'celebrities'. Out of curiosity I clicked through all the pictures. I recognized THREE of those people. I guess they're important somewhere, somehow, but I just don't care.

This woman is rowing across the Pacific Ocean all alone in a boat about as long as my kitchen. I don't understand what makes people do stuff like that. Anyone??

This story is about a clothing boutique called, quite appropriately, I think, "Folly".
The (really, really ugly) pair of pants in the story was priced at $128.00.

On how many levels is that wrong? I am not a huge social activist, preferring to help people anonymously when I can. Never will be able to afford a big, splashy donation anywhere, and I don't care. Helping people a little is an important thing, I think. That's why I send little grocery store gift cards or come up with other ways to help people a little. Sometimes that little bit means the world to a person. Anonymous works best for me, as I have been on the receiving end of help from others. It's very difficult to accept help. If you've never had to, well, good. But you won't understand if you haven't been there. I'm guessing that everyone who reads here has needed help at least once, though.

So based on its location, the people who go into this store almost certainly have to pass some homeless people to get there. How can you walk past someone who hasn't eaten today and buy $128.00 pants? Of course the chick in the story wasn't interested in buying the pants...

And finally, a story about the latest royal baby. They're cute little people. Not as cute as my babies were, but they're cute.

I read here that the little boy is wearing an outfit that cost $159.00. Am I the only person who sees that as an obscenity? I can buy groceries for more than a week for that amount.

Ever see one of those articles about how much money it takes to raise a child to age 18? Supposed to give you some sort of clue about whether you can afford to have a kid. Of course those of us in the know realized long ago that if you wait until you can afford a family, it's never gonna happen.

I actually took one of those tests back in the 80s. When they were still only found in magazines and you had to manually add up the results. I don't remember how much money 'they' said you needed then, but I remember it was over 100 thousand dollars. And I learned that I should not reproduce, we were hopelessly underpaid.

I was due with Matt any moment (yes, we got pg on purpose) so it was really too late to take the 'can I afford a baby' quiz, but it seems that we managed to keep him fed and sheltered and clothed. When Lyssa joined us almost exactly six years later, that was also on purpose. Planned. And whaddya know... we fed and sheltered and clothed her, too.

Besides, babies aren't expensive. All they require is dry diapers and milk and snuggling. They don't care if their crib bumpers match. In fact, they're happier if you don't put them IN a crib. They're most content when they're being snuggled, daytime and nighttime.

Matt was our experimental model. I'm ashamed to say that I listened to 'them' and put him in a crib. I even tried to let him cry a couple times, although I couldn't do it. I had to go pick him up and love him.

Lyssa was never just left to cry. When she wanted me, I was there for her. She slept with us for more than three years. Then she slept on the floor next to my bed for another couple years. It was our family, our bed, our choice. I didn't defend it to anyone, deciding that it wasn't anyone else's business. And wacky, militant moms... well, who listens to us anyway?

This co sleeping and nursing on demand and putting the baby first caused my father and other people to make dire predictions about her ability to be independent in the future.

One day, when she was about a year old, my parents were visiting. My parents were "watching" her in the living room while I washed the dishes in the kitchen. She grabbed a crayon and scribbled on the back of one of her brother's books. My dad growled at her, "Alyssaaaaaa!!" in a deep, scary voice. Suddenly there was a crying toddler trying to climb me like a tree. I took off my gloves, laid them on the counter and sat down on the kitchen floor with her. She was still nursing, and that was what she wanted.

My dad walked into the kitchen a couple minutes later, observed my daughter nursing and said, "She will never develop any independence. Are you going to follow her to college so she can still breastfeed?"

I know I was nice about it. I said something like, "She is learning that she can always come to me and that I will always be there for her."

We never really discussed it again, although I know both my parents were uncomfortable with the on-demand feeding and my insistence on being available to my children whenever they needed me. They were from the Dr. Spock generation, and it's not their fault, ya know?

And considering that she was able to pack up and leave home with very little notice and is doing fine, I'm going to declare that she does have a teeny bit of independence, despite my terrible parenting, especially when she was an infant and toddler, as that sets the stage for the future.

I didn't spend a lot of money on my babies. I had tons of hand-me-downs from friends and family, and an addiction to thrift store shopping. When babies outgrow their clothing in days, it doesn't make sense to spend a ton of money to clothe them.

Kids start getting expensive when they're heading into the teenage years, though.

Both kids were in braces at the same time. Every paycheck I earned for more than three years went directly into their mouths. Haha... either food or braces.

I wish I'd kept track of how much it cost to raise them. I'd send them a bill. No, not really. But when I see stuff like that little boy's outfit priced at over a hundred bucks, I think that somewhere, someone got their priorities all fuckered up, as Eric would say.

Along those lines, I've been simultaneously appalled and impressed at the ability of the educrats to keep a straight face when asking for more money 'for the childrunnnnn'. Per pupil spending is at an all-time high. Last I heard it was something like 12 thousand. PER YEAR.

During the 15 years or so that we homeschooled, I am sure I didn't spend even half that educating both of them.

I have sat down and done a little figuring, using 10 grand per pupil because I have a public school education and math isn't my strong point. Figure 30 students in a class. Now tell me how 10,000 x 30... three hundred thousand dollars... isn't enough to educate those children for ONE year. Go ahead. Explain. Use small words. Diagrams. Maybe I'll be able to understand it.

Then, multiply that 300 grand by the number of classrooms in the schools. Appalling.

So if you came here today looking for profound, I'm sorry.
If you came here today expecting me to get to some sort of point, again I apologize. My brain is doing the pinball machine thing.

Off to do some dishes, put the food away and get ready for the last three days of the school year.

Blogging may be sporadic and occasionally (even more) incoherent as I work through that mess.

It really did happen!!

Me with the baby of the family. :)

The Bride and Groom

Had to use the bouquet for a photo.

They are a lovely couple, you're right. :)

Bride Bouquet

The Groom modeling the right way to hold the bouquet

Ahh, Sunday

And the sun is most certainly OUT.
We're going to be in a heat wave until at least Friday.
Ugh.

I don't like the heat.
I don't like humidity.
I particularly dislike heat mixed with humidity. If I still liked to swim (meaning 'if I had a pool in my back yard and 20 foot impenetrable-by-human-eyes walls) I'd enjoy the sun a little more.

We escaped from the heat yesterday by driving up toward Mt. Hood. There's a little place we like to go that's almost never crowded, mostly because there's really nothing much there. No amenities, just a couple brown outhouses and a dumpster. A small creek runs along the day use area, and there are picnic tables, birds, and bugs.
I still smell lemongrass insect repellant.
Repellent?

Funny, spell check finds both acceptable. My fingers typed it with an 'a' first, then I typed it with an 'e'.

:::shrug:::

Anyway, I still smell it because I sprayed it on my clothing and haven't done the laundry yet. Don't want to heat up the house. I'll run a couple loads this evening and dry them in the morning before it gets hot.

So just the two of us... a picnic, my tangly stuff, we both brought books and comfortable chairs. Reading glasses. Yeah, we're old. So?

It was nice to hang out with my favorite guy and have nothing I had to do.
When I'm home and trying to relax, there is always a miles-long list of things that need to be done, and the guilt kills me if I don't get busy on it and do something. (Although I usually do the minimum necessary for survival.)

When we arrived up there yesterday, we unloaded our car and walked up the hill to the bathrooms. I worried aloud about leaving my backpack on the table, and Eric said there was no one even near our area, we'd only be gone a couple minutes, and he'd be watching when he came out. He thought he'd have to wait for me. Haha.. I peed faster. In case you needed to know. I came out first and watched our little area downhill. Saw nothing.

We were there for maybe three minutes. Hiked back down the hill. When we reached our little clearing, there was a raven near the fire pit. In his talons was the whole package of hot dog buns! The little opportunist had stolen them from the grocery bag on the table.
He'd been busy.
He'd stuck his pecker into my husband's buns (hahahaha) and just shredded most of the buns.
And the plastic.
Eric waved him off. We inspected the damage.

He was able to salvage two buns, enough for his lunch.
I had brought my own lunch, which was in the ice chest. Apparently raven-proof.

We stayed until a little before six last night.
Came home, showered and put stuff away, and went to bed.

Party animals, that's us.

So today is grocery shopping and getting at least a start on the whole clean-the-house-the-father-in-law-is-coming annual cleaning festival.

Matt and Amy are getting married on the 24th of August, and Bob will be arriving a couple days before.

Happy Birthday Thoughts

I dragged the kids out front on Wednesday evening to take their photo.

They're good kids... they humored me and didn't complain about me wanting to take photos.

I think I took four or five.
One turned out pretty nice. :)
I love digital photography.

So they're 21 and 27 this year. I can't believe that much time has passed.

And I've talked here before about having babies.
How I wanted a baby.
A sweet little dampish bundle that (most of the time) smells nice and feels good nestled into the side of your neck.

You'd think I'd have figured some of it out before I had a 2nd one... but nope. Had another without a whole lot of forethought.

Before babies, I didn't ever consider the introduction to solid foods. Hell, I hadn't considered breast feeding or bottle feeding or cloth diaper or disposable diapers.
Or toilet training.

I didn't think a lot about who would take care of the babies when I went back to work. And of course the moment they handed me that first little dampish bundle, nothing else but the baby mattered. Leave my baby to go to a JOB?? No.

According to some, I've never held a 'real' job again. Not that I listen to crap like that. I think we all know what goes into raising a child.

I didn't consider education of said babies, either. Because of course *everyone* sends their children to school, right? I never considered that I'd end up being a homeschooling mom. That was something religious people did so their offspring wouldn't learn about evolution!

I didn't consider orthodontics. Every paycheck I earned for three and a half years went directly to our dentist.
Seriously.
And look at those smiles.
Worth every single hour I worked.

That really holds true for the kids themselves. Worth every single hour I spent with them. Every single hour I worked, thought about them, worried over them, did my best for them.

Looking back, I wish I'd taken more time to appreciate how short time is, though.

If your kids are little, take as much time as you can to just enjoy them. The smell of their hair after they wake up from a nap. That warm, sleepy little person snuggled in your arms.

If your kids grew up, the way mine did, what do you wish you'd done more of? Less of?

And have you ever spent even a single moment NOT worrying about your children? I don't think I've had a worry-free moment since June 22, 1987.

Dinner and Company

How often does company come over and bring dinner?
Matt and Amy brought us Lasagna tonight. We had a nice time sitting around talking, I'm more convinced than ever that Matt picked out the perfect person to marry.

I had training today, had to be there early, stay late to help put stuff away, and I'm tired and crabby and ready for bed now.

If you look at the post below this one, you'll see the thing I drew during training. I'm planning to add a picture to this post later on but I have to get to sleep, there is no way around it at this point.

So I hope you have a good day and will forgive me dashing off like this. :)

Family

Alyssa made me this wonderful little mouse. The head and hands are sculpey, the body is stuffed fabric, the feet and tail are pink and soft. The tail is poseable. Such a cute little critter. It's sitting here next to me as I type.

The whole true meaning of Christmas... family. :)

I cooked today. Glazed a ham for the first time. Would have turned out really wonderful except my oven decided to stop working toward the end of the endeavor. Only we didn't know it had stopped working until we tried to bake the rolls that had been rising all day long.
::sigh::

Something wonky in the electronics, I think. We eventually got them baked. Mostly. :)

Ah well. Making memories, right?

Matt and Amy arrived a little before four and left about eight. We had a really nice time together. Opened some gifts and had some food and told family stories and laughed a lot.

We pondered the fact that my mother sent me her end of life care wishes the same week she sent out her Christmas letter to everyone in the universe. The letter in which she mentioned my brothers and what they were up to.

And didn't mention me at all.

Amy remarked you'd think she'd be a little nicer considering I was the one who could pull the plug. ;)

And yes, I know that Mom didn't purposely leave me out. It's one of those things that I'll bring up over the years and snicker about.
We got out our little itty bitty tree this year. It's about two feet high, has multicolored continuously lit lights, and sat nicely on top of the computer armoire in the living room.

Also out? Refrigerator magnets. They're on the front of the dishwasher. A little elf rearranged the letters of C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S, though.

Eric wandered out to the shed for me and got my serving dishes. I used the platter my grandmother Del always used to serve ham on for OUR ham. I used one of her green glass relish dishes to serve the crackers in.

When I get those things out and use them, I feel a connection to the people who came before me and are gone now. I sometimes feel sad and miss them over the year, but during the holidays I don't seem to feel as sad. I feel more focused on the times we spent together.

And I hope that 40 years in the future my kids will be looking back and feeling the same way.

I hope your day was a good one, and that you were surrounded by people you love.

The Artist Formally Known as Matt

I asked him if he'd paint me an elf with a face cut out. Wanted to photograph 'my' kids for the holidaze.

I didn't give him any guidelines, just that I wanted an elf. That's nice and seasonal without any negative connotations that I'm aware of.

And when he came over this morning to go on a hike with Eric, he brought me this. :)

He even cheerfully put his face there for me to take the picture.

I can't wait for the kids to surprise their parents with a holiday photo.

I expected...

To feel a little melancholy after going to dinner at Matt and Amy's. After all, it was the first time we've seen where he's living. He moved out four months ago. It's not that we haven't seen them, they've been here a few times, and we keep in touch and all that... but we hadn't been to their home.

It was dinner and conversation. Matt cooked dinner. Amy isn't interested in cooking and doesn't know how to cook much. So he cooks and she cleans the kitchen. What cook doesn't love a kitchen cleaner? :)
(I had no idea how to cook when we got married... so I am not casting aspersions. And they're happy with the arrangement, so who cares, right?)

A pleasant evening. They complement each other beautifully.

Their apartment is small and cute. Very clean and uncluttered. And they are so happy together. It's very obvious that they were meant to be a couple.

So I left there feeling happy and my feelings haven't changed today. I'm really pleased that they found each other.

I have started keeping my clothes in the 'spare' bedroom. We don't have a traditional closet in our room because we don't have a traditional bedroom. Our bedroom used to be the living room of this house until the previous owner turned the two car garage into a family room. No closet space.

So Eric's stuff is in our room, mine is in the other room.

Also in the extra bedroom? A ton of stuff that I either need to take to work, give away, throw away or, well, something.

It's really hard for me to get rid of things. I understand why, too. Being deprived as a kid has turned me into a hoarder. The only reason my house isn't stacked wall to wall with stuff is that there are other people living here who need to be able to walk in the house.

You watch. I'll die all alone at 90 or so, and my house will be on television. Everyone who didn't really know me will be saying, "Wow, I never had any idea!!"

And everyone who does know me will be saying, "My god. How did she ever live to be 90 years old?"

Off to finish a tangly thing I am working on to send to a friend. And sleep. And get up at 5.

Why is it that the weeks go so slowly and the weekends just zip by?
Anyone?

What do you call it when it's not from the randomizer?

Not really capable of linear thought because I took something to help me sleep tonight, that was about an hour ago, and I'm still sitting here in front of the computer.

I keep making typos. Slowing down helps a little, but I'm going to wear out my backspace button if I keep going too long.

We had Matt and Amy over for dinner this evening. I made shredded bbq beef sandwiches in the crock pot for dinner. It's easy to do, get a 3 lb or so chuck roast or brisket and pour a bottle of bbq sauce on it. Cook it until it's done (about 11 hours on low) and take the meat out. Shred with forks and toss it back into the sauce. Serve on hot toasted buns.

Of course I can't do commercially prepared bbq sauces, so I have to make my own. Pretty tasty stuff, though.

Lyssa made a rolled up cake. She's pretty creative with the baking stuff, makes it all from scratch and is pretty generous with letting me taste the batter, the icing etc.. :)

Matt seems so happy with Amy. Which of course makes us happy. He chose a good person to add to the family. :)

I have nothing exciting to report. There is a stack of unopened mail on my kitchen table that I won't be opening until Monday. That way if there's anything in the mess that will upset me (couple of legal documents in there) I won't be sitting here stressing and not able to call to sort it out.

I'm not looking forward to having my knee looked at. I despise the whole new doctor, tell the whole story and go through more of the crap that I've already gone through in the last few years.

I know that fucker Al won't rest until he's done everything he can to take my job away from me. Disappointing that that's how we protect injured workers, isn't it? I'd really love to confront him sometime. Just ask him WHY or maybe HOW he can do what he does. Maybe accuse him of being a sociopath. Or just a fuckwit/reprobate/asshole who does mean things to his dog/cat/hamster.

Ah well. Going to go brush teeth and try to sleep.

Lasagna and the Photo Bomber

Matt and Amy were here for dinner this evening.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from work for the ingredients because we hadn't yet invited them for dinner when we did our grocery shopping on Sunday.

Didn't get off work until 5, so had to hurry a bit. Lyssa did all the noodle boiling for me before I got home, and Amy washed mushrooms, Matt sliced them, I cooked meat and threw cheese into the dishes.

Turned out great, although if you're like me, you like it better on the 2nd day. The flavor is just better.

Since Amy won't be back over while Bob is here, I wanted to get a photo of the happy couple with Bob. And everyone cooperated. Lyssa photobombed the 2nd one... if I could see Bob's face better it would be a perfect photo. :)

Since I can't top the happy family stuff for tonight, I'm gonna just let it go at this.

But I am so fortunate to have my amazing family.
And properly grateful.
Lots of love in my life.

Nothing but net

Haha... that's punny.

Haven't felt so great today, migraine hit me about 2 AM, then came back while we were out and about doing grocery shopping etc this afternoon.

Not doing too badly right now, but all I've been up to doing, really, is sitting here playing on the internet. Hence the 'nothing but net'.

I'm feeling okay, doing laundry, preparing for the work week ahead.

Eric made a nice dinner with potato salad, chicken and corn on the cob. Good stuff.

Matt is currently in Georgia with Amy visiting relatives, but I'm guessing we'll see him a bit this coming week. It will be good for him to see his 'Whisker Grandpa'.

Did I ever tell you why he's Whisker Grandpa? I probably did, but whatever.

We moved to Oregon when Matt was 21 months old. Not too long after, Bob came to visit, and we hauled the whole family to John Day to visit my parents.

Matt had two grandpas at once. So he started calling Bob Whisker Grandpa and my dad Regular Grandpa. Cracked me up then, still makes me smile now.

So we won't be seeing Regular Grandpa this time, they're not really up to travel right now, Mom is having some troubles medically. Again.
::sigh::

She's going to end up having a 'reverse' shoulder replacement soon. A tough thing to go through even when you're young, not so much fun when you're in your 70s. Takes awhile to heal. Times like this I wish I lived a little closer so I could help.

Of course it's not practical, I love my job, but I work for a reason. Groceries and medical insurance. Can't afford the time off. And even if it's covered with vacation time, leaving my site, especially at the beginning of the school year... not a great idea.

So I am going to bed early, even though I slept three hours this afternoon (thank you migraine medication) and putting the computer away for the evening.

Trippin'

Took all the kids to Bonneville Dam and Fish Hatchery on Friday.

They seemed to have a really good time on the excursion, but their favorite part was saying 'the dam field trip.'

"Is it time for the dam field trip yet?"
"I can't wait for Friday and the dam field trip!"
"Can we bring our camera on the dam field trip?"
"Have you ever been on this dam trip before?"

::snicker::

I wore the fracture boot all day instead of a shoe, I knew that I'd be in really bad shape if I didn't.

Did a ton of stairs, lots of walking... the left knee had a lot of water in it this morning, but it seems to have redistributed this evening, at least somewhat. Thank goodness.

After all the stairs I expected to have sore muscles, but I really don't. The biggest problem I have continues to be the left knee, which will never be right again. But it does function at least part of the time. :)

In other news, my baby is home. Matt drove over from where he's living now and went to the airport with us. As we were driving to the parking garage, Lyssa's plane passed over. They landed about 20 minutes early.

We went out for dinner this evening, but Chang's Mongolian Grill has gotten very proud of their stuff... it was 15 bucks a plate... and not worth it.

Plus, the guys doing the cooking were flinging food all over the damn place and I ended up with a few pieces of onion and cilantro in my food. I like onions but they don't like me. And cilantro is a migraine trigger. It worked, too. Got hit with one as I was driving home. Took the migraine medication, but it's been about an hour and I am still feeling crappy, so I think going to bed and sleeping it off is the best choice now.

::sigh::

Heat, Headaches and (aww) The Happy Couple.

I'm relaxing next to a fan and ac combo.
It was hot here today, although it's going to get hotter and hotter through next Tuesday. Yippee.

I am not complaining too much (yet) it's a lot hotter in other places.
But I don't do well when it's hot, and I will hate the weather the next few days for sure.

My cousin posted a photo of the display from her iPhone today on Facebook. She's in Arizona, where it was 122 degrees.
Although it's not humid. Which is a good thing, right?
(But it's a DRY heat!!)

People laugh at that, but it's true. When it's not humid, I know I tolerate the heat much, much better. And although it's humid here, it's much more humid in other places. I've been in those places when it was 90 degrees (New Orleans in late August, for example) and it felt like 120 degrees outside. UGHHH.

It is hot here, though. After you pass about 82 degrees, I'm too hot. 92 or 93 today, up to 100 next week for a couple days.

I went out pretty early because Goodwill opens at 9. Got there by 9:15 and only found a pair of shorts for Eric. So not a total waste of time, I guess. :)

I had some pressure in my head, which I chalked up to the heat and the change in atmospheric pressure. I took two Excedrin when I woke up this morning so I wasn't feeling too bad by the time I went out.

Decided to stop at the grocery store since there's not a whole lot of food in the house.

I was wandering through the produce section, holding my celery in one hand and my phone in the other, waiting for my husband to call me back and tell me if there was anything he needed from the store when SHE walked by.

She had two children with her, about six or seven years old. They called her 'Grandma', so I guess they were related. :)

Grandma passed me.

And a scented cloud, attached to her like a parachute, wrapped around MY head as she passed.

What was the smell?
Why, I'm glad you asked!

It was a combination of old sweat, rancid grease and sex. With a really, really HUGELY LARGE goddamn big dose of some oily, flowery fucking perfume.

Three heartbeats.... WHAM. A full blown fucking migraine.

I wanted to kick that bitch in the taco.
I would still like to kick her, actually.

Home again, me outside a dose of migraine medicine, Matt and I decided that he'd go grab a lunch to go and bring it home instead of us going out.

And I ate and then took a nap. And woke up with very little pain. Yay.

Matt and Amy went and picked up their Uhaul and they both stopped by here to pick up this and that. I was going to take a picture of them with the moving truck, but blame the headache and the heat... I forgot. :(

So instead, I will leave you with a photo of the happy couple they took themselves sometime in March. I think.

Moving day.

It's moving day!

Matt is outa here.

To commemorate the occasion, I plan to have lunch with him. And then cheerfully wave goodbye.

I won't sit and cry over it. Seriously. He's heading off to 'the future'.... that misty concept I never, not once, considered when making the decision to have a baby. Babies are a right now sort of thing. But then they grow up and become people. And they meet other people. And they like those other people and would rather live with them than with their mommies!!! Can you imagine???

:)


I am happy for him. I think he's made a good choice of a person to marry, I plan to be the kind of mother in law that doesn't stick her nose into every little thing. I won't criticize her. Or him.

Unless it's called for. ;)
And no, not really. I will allow them to have their lives and try to be decent and supportive and kind and just... love them.

But I will miss having him around.

It will be strange.

26. And rocks in his head.

Today is Matt's birthday.
I've been a mom for half my life.
It's so weird, thinking about how time works.

For example when I was 40, I realized I'd been married a little over half my life.

More now, of course.

And now I'm 52 and my firstborn is 26.

I remember back in June of 1987 I was thinking I'd be pregnant for the rest of my life.
He was two weeks late.
And yes, he's been running late ever since. :-D

Anyway, my son is 26 today. Which is really hard for me to believe.
He's a nice guy, about to propose to his girlfriend (that's supposed to happen on Tuesday, and she doesn't read my blog so it's all good...) and the soundtrack of our lives lately in the evening is punctuated by the sounds of the tape gun as he packs his things to move out a week from today.

A person of compassion and integrity and humor. He is a great big brother, a wonderful son and person, and I'm proud of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today, before I got to work, one of the kids threw a softball up into a tree. Had I been there, he would not have thrown it up there at all, since we have a rule about being out in the field to throw that ball, and they all know I'm serious about rules.

He repeatedly threw it up in the tree, causing small branches and leaves to fall on some of the other kids. It finally got stuck.

Then, he found chunks of concrete and some other little rocks to throw up to try to dislodge the ball.

Now one would think that the person in charge on the playground would, you know, put a stop to the behavior. But not this particular person. I seriously doubt she even noticed what he was doing until it was too late. She's not terribly observant.

I'll refrain from making remarks about professionalism, vigilance and taking things seriously. But if you could hear me in person....

Let's just go with, "We may have at least one person working there who possibly isn't as personally invested in the safety of the kids as I am." and then leave it at that.

You've heard the saying, 'What goes up must come down', right?

The last chunk of concrete that he threw up to hit the ball DID come down. Squarely on the top of his head.

I heard from several children and at least one staff person that the scalp wound was pretty bloody.

And that the 'caregiver' who allowed him to repeatedly throw the rocks into the air embarrassed him over it.

I had an accident report clipped onto the clipboard to give to his parent/guardian when he was picked up this afternoon, but I left before that p/g arrived.

I know p/g was contacted regarding the accident, though.

It really bothers me when not everyone who deals with the children has the same safety standards and the same worry about the kids.

I don't like having accident reports, as I mentioned, but when it's something that happens because of consistent rule breaking and the person who's supposed to be watching ISN'T, it really pisses me off.

Hormone Hell and Icebergs

Of course the first week of summer program coming on the heels of closing down my regular school year program means that my life isn't stressful enough.

Toss in putting my baby on an airplane last weekend and off to her summer destination, trying to get a lesson plan done for the first week without any sort of book or instructions, hauling a bunch of stuff in my little car to a place with way too many stairs, a son who's packing up to move out of the house in two weeks, a house that's more of a mess every day, I swear, a foot that still hurts like HELL from stepping down wrong on it on Friday and a really crappy attitude.

I figured out on Monday that the biggest reason for the really crappy attitude was hormonal, though. So toss in having to cope with that mess on top of everything else. And 'that mess' (aside from the obvious) ALWAYS includes a migraine. And the medication that kills the migraine and makes me feel kind of shitty in the process.

I'm crabby because things aren't going the way I like them to at work. We have people working this summer who are next to clueless. Which is always nice for everyone else, because that way we can do EXTRA.

Picture me looking just a little pissy here...

And I go to work and joke around with the kids I already know. And get to know the new ones. And introduce myself to their parents. And do little science projects and crafty stuff. And keep smiling.

I keep smiling even when I have aggravated a parent. I aggravated one today by asking for her identification when she came to pick up her daughter.

"But I'm really pressed for time!!" she said. "I left my driver's license in my truck!!"

So I told her, "I'll get Cindy* over here to the door and have her waiting for you when you come back with your driver's license."

She could tell that I wasn't going to let 'pressed for time' be her ID card. As a parent myself, if I had gone to pick up one of my children and the staff there did not know me and didn't ask for a driver's license, I would have raised hell. As long as I've done this job, I still will never understand a parent who gets crabby over being asked to prove they have the right to take a child from my care.

To her credit, she came back with the ID and said that she was sorry that she was in such a hurry, that she did appreciate me making sure she was authorized to pick her child up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So I froze some colored water in the bottom halves of gallon jugs and in a muffin pan, dumped it all into a large plastic container at the art table and we conducted some experiments in ice melting today.

Coins and Legos and beads and marker and scissors and paper and pipe cleaners... whatever the kids wanted to try.

We used some salt, too, which caused a lot of excitement.
I know they all learned from it.

It was simple, but the kids really seemed to enjoy it. They don't often get to just play while they're experimenting, there's always some sort of test or questions or expected outcome, and it makes them apathetic. They lose that sense of play and discovery. I love giving them open ended activities and standing back to watch them have a good time with it.

Cleaning up the mess isn't quite as much fun, but it was worth the effort. :)

So that's my day.

How was yours?