Knaphrodesiac

Endings

2009-08-25T09:24:00.002-05:00

I've been going back and forth trying to decide whether or not to post this, and I don't know if it's right or wrong, or if it will help or hurt, but the pain in my heart is so severe that I've got to try and get it out somehow. My husband of just three short months wants a divorce. Man...just typing that sentence feels like a knife to the gut all over again. There's no reason that he can give for his decision, and I can tell by his self destructive behavior that he's tormented on the inside, but just like that - it's over. I spend my waking hours praying and trying to hold out hope that he comes around, that he gives us the chance we haven't had yet.

It's been two weeks since he said it, and this weekend I'll be packing my things and moving back in with my mom and dad - and our children, who don't understand what's going on.

Letting go has never been so hard...after all, I'd only just barely learned to grab on again.

2 things

2009-06-25T10:31:00.002-05:00

1. I have a serious crush on Cesar Millan (The Dog Whisperer). I have no idea why, but he's hot AND he speaks dog.

2. My new business venture has a new blog. It's where I spend most of my time lately. It's void of anything filthy, but if you're still interested, have a look-see.

There's more to share, but not enough time at the moment.

P.S. - This is effing hilarious.

KTHXBAI

Sometimes the good guy wins

2009-06-09T10:10:00.001-05:00

I was going to use this post today to tell you about all of the progress going on with my business, and though there is much to tell (well…sort of), it will have to wait until another day.

For the last year and a half or so, I’ve followed a blog called Xbox4NappyRash. It is very eloquently written by a man from Holland who has been desperately trying to conceive (with his wife, ET) for nearly two years. I’m certain that I’ve mentioned him before, but can’t find the link to my post about it. Anyway…his posts have been riddled with the agony that trying – and failing – to conceive can bring, but sprinkled with his unique sense of humor and unabashed sincerity. That this man would open up and let us all see the vulnerability of his difficult situation is, to me, a gift. He’s also an unbelievable writer.

It literally made my day week YEAR to open my reader up and read that he and his lovely wife are finally expecting. Do yourself a favor…read his blog, and show him some love.

Momentum

2009-05-21T21:11:00.003-05:00

I recently completed my first major steps to developing my business, and it's finally starting to feel official. I have a logo, a domain name, and even my very own Facebook page. Barrow Design Group even has it's very own tax ID number, so Uncle Sam can officially start raping yet another little guy. :)

No, seriously though... I feel somewhat accomplished in having completed at least a few preliminary goals, and I'm looking forward to what the future holds. I have received so much encouragement, and believe me when I tell you how grateful I am for your support and kind words.

It's slow going for me, especially with no start up capital to help me with the necessities, but I have been blessed by so many people willing to lend a hand, or just offer some advice. My major difficulty at the moment is the fact that I don't have my own computer. I know, right? Kind of important. I currently use my brother-in-law's or the one at work (which I'm obviously limited by), but I just can't afford to go out and invest in a new Macbook. I know, PC's are cheaper, but my firm will be doing a lot of custom design work, and I really need the graphic capabilities that a Mac is so good for.

So if you know of anyone who is getting rid of one for an upgrade, I'm all for receiving second hand goods!

If you're on Facebook, become a fan of Barrow Design Group here.

And if you're not, here's the new logo.

Also...if you need graphic design work, contact Stephanie at SBL CREATIVE. She's the very definition of professionalism.

A change is gonna come

2009-05-13T15:12:00.002-05:00

I’ve written numerous times in this blog about my desire to make something better of myself. That desire is spurred on mostly out of my necessity to pay bills (and eat), but that’s only a small part of it. There is a significant part of me that yearns to create, which is a solid reason that I write this blog. I need to have some sort of creative outlet, and this blog quenches my creative thirst in small doses.

I’ve felt for a long time now that I’m surviving instead of living. I like what I do (in my current job), but I don’t do what I love, and that’s just not enough for me anymore.

So I’ve decided to take the plunge, and it’s scaring the ever-loving shit out of me. I’m starting my own event planning and design firm (I use the word ‘firm’ lightly, as my office will be my kitchen table). Today, I saw the first proofs of my logo design, and I am thrilled that that I was finally braveenough to get the ball rolling. I will be heading to the court house tomorrow to register for my tax ID number, and then the rest is up to my savvy networking skills, because folks, if I haven’t made it plain enough before…..I AM BROKE, and as networking skills don't cost money, I'm counting on that alone at first.

This, incidentally, is why I’m starting my business in the first place. Because working for the man isn’t cutting it anymore. I can only go so far where I am, and I’m afraid I’ve hit the proverbial glass ceiling. Not to mention….I’m just not passionate about being someone’s assistant. But that’s neither here nor there. I am setting out to make my dream a reality, and although I’m excited, I’m also terrified at the same time.

My biggest pitfall is that I have no website and no computer. I know, right?!?!?!?!? Kind of essential. I use my brother-in-law’s computer at the moment, but I absolutely need my own. I will also be starting a blog soon to compensate for the lack of website. This blog isn't exactly the height of style, so it might take me some time to figure out how to make it look really great, but I will link to it when it's up so you can all keep up with my progress.

The steps that I will be taking in the coming months will be baby ones, but they’ll be MINE, and they will be headed in the direction that I WANT TO GO, not ones that someone else will be directing for me.

For the first time in my professional life, I finally feel some purpose. And it feels good.

Blended, not stirred

2009-05-05T15:32:00.003-05:00

My dearest Jackson,

Two weeks ago, I married the man of my dreams, and had the pleasure of having you there to witness it. I know life has not been easy for you, and this transition has been tough as well.

My plans for us certainly didn’t turn out like I thought they would, and we’ve travelled along a very bumpy path to get to where we are today. I don’t know what is in store for the future of this quirky little family of ours, but I know this much is true….you are loved and treasured, and I am a lucky, lucky woman to have you in my life.

Love,
Mom

I did

2009-04-30T13:23:00.003-05:00

It was everything I dreamed it would be. More magical, in fact, because at the end of it, I was finally announced as Mrs. Timothy Barrow....a title I will bear proudly for the rest of my life. I made sure to savor every moment of the process (up until I started to cry and nearly pass out due to the state of my nerves, at which point it was all a blur until the dancing began). And now that it's over, I have the rest of my life to look forward to.

...and yes...we're as happy as we appear to be.

Anticipation

2009-04-09T20:45:00.005-05:00

The invitations have been mailed. The registry is complete. The dress is hanging in the closet. The food has been chosen and the rings have been purchased. In nine days, I will walk down the aisle and pledge my life to the man that I love in front of all (well, most) of our loved ones. I've done almost everything there is to do to prepare, and so now I have the time and mental capacity to revel in what is to become.

Our life will begin with the anticipation of a rich and happy future, and I am elated. I'm certainly not oblivious to the reality of hard times, because we've already weathered many, but the commitment that will be read during our vows - "in good times AND IN BAD" makes all the difference in the world.

I cannot wait to proclaim my love and fidelity. I can't wait to put on that dress.

And let's face it....I CAN'T WAIT TO DANCE!!!!

And P.S. - he finally got the tattoo!!!

Gillette Fusion: Two birds, one stone

2009-03-25T10:45:00.004-05:00

I know I've been MIA for a while, and I only have two kids, a hungry fiance and massive wedding planning to blame. I am doing my best to get back into the blogging swing of things, but until April 18th comes and goes, my posting will be sporadic at best. That being said, I'd like to offer up my UNPAID product review of the Gillette Fusion (Gillette, if you want to send free cartridges, go right ahead). So Tim and I usually share a razor, but he shaves his head once a week and it makes them dull too quickly, so I decided to buy my own Fusion. I went to the store to purchase the 5-blade Fusion like he has, and they've got a new one WITH A VIBRATING MECHANISM.

Without overstating the obvious, I would like to recommend that Gillette change their slogan to:

The best a WOMAN can get.

Avoiding the plague

2009-02-19T16:21:00.003-06:00

Hello? Anyone there?

Didn't think so.

So, for the past four weeks or so, my entire family has been under vicious physical attack by what can only be the devil. Seriously, it's been that heinous. It started with the absolute WORST stomach flu I have ever had, and my oldest child succumbed to it as well. Not two days after we peeled each other off the bathroom floor, both of my kids came down with some weird "fever virus", so the doctor says. The comes the congestion and colds. They were both riddled with snot and croupy coughs that made it sounds as if death were not far.

Naturally, Tim and I caught the colds, because I'm convinced my kids like to lick on the edges of my cups JUST TO MAKE SURE WE SHARE IN THEIR MISERY.

After one week of raw nose and stuffy sinues, I had the pleasure of an abscessed tooth.

I am not a skilled enough writer to effectively communicate with justice just how much pain I have been in. I finally feel better today, but there were moments where, had I found a bus, I would have hurled myself beneath it and waited for the sweet release of death.

I can honestly say that I will be able to handle any physical torture should it ever come my way, now that I've been through this.

And now I wait patiently to have the energy to be inspired to write again. For now, I just want to sleep.

25 Things

2009-02-04T09:50:00.002-06:00

I'm not quite sure if anyone even reads this anymore, as I've been blogging so seldom lately. What with the death and the wedding planning (try to handle THAT simultaneously...it's tough!), I've had no time to do much of anything. So that's why I'm hoping to get away with posting my Facebook 25 Random Things meme. Lucky you...

1. My fiance is eight years younger than me. I have been known to have a bit of an ego about it. He has been known to brag about "landing a cougar". Though there are many things about our relationship that are unconventional, there is a chemistry and a bond between us that is unlike any other I've ever had in my life.

2. I fantasize about being discovered. There is an arsenal of Oscar-worthy performances that are dying to escape my imagination. I am encouraged by the fact that most of my family members call me the dramatic one.

3. My future sister-in-law (Christy) is on active duty in the Army and just returned from Iraq after being stop-lossed. I am immensely proud of her, and even more grateful that she is finally home.

4. My mom and sister used to tell me that eating ice cream before bed would give me nightmares. I believed them until I was about 14.

5. I am EXTREMELY gullible. (See #4.)

6. I still maintain close relationships with people I met in middle school.

7. I never considered myself even remotely popular in high school. I more or less flew "under the radar".

8. My first date was a homecoming dance in the 10th grade. The girls all ate BEFORE the dance in order to avoid eating in front of the boys. I bet my fiance wishes I were even half that demure, as there is little I hold back from him, and that's all I'm gonna say about THAT.

9. One of my favorite quotes is from the book Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.... "Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all of the lives I'm not living." It's ridiculous how much I can relate to that. I'm finally doing something about it.

10. Since joining Facebook, I have been reminded by TWO people of a specific incident in high school where someone made me cry. To this day, I don't remember it. I have always been able to forgive and forget quite easily, and I am thankful for that (especially the forgetting part).

11. I LOVE tattoos. My fiance has six. He's in the process of designing #7. The fact that my name will be on it REALLY does it for me.

12. I had a tongue ring when I was 19 and a nose ring about a year ago. I no longer have either, but I loved having them.

13. I miss the OLD cartoons. I often find myself saying things like, "they just don't make 'em like they used to", and then commence to freaking out at how much I sound like my mother.

14. I have witnessed the birth of three of my sister's kids (she's got 5). I consider each one in the top 5 of the most amazing experiences of my life. There is no equal to watching a loved one bring life into the world, apart from doing it yourself.

15. I have been known to use mayonaisse excessively.

16. I love New Orleans...it's my home town, but I don't want to live here for the rest of my life. I miss the mountains.

17. I still cry when I see pictures of Hurricane Katrina, a reminder of all that my new family has lost.

18. I have two sisters. One that I've known for only four years, that I hope to continue to get to know better. The other, who I grew up with, that I grow closer to each year. She has taught me some of the most valuable lessons of my life.

19. I am a closet nose picker. I will try not to flick if I visit your home.

20. The boy who gave me my first kiss wore Eternity cologne. It still reminds me of him when I smell it.

21. I have a big toe that looks like a thumb.

22. One of my greatest joys in life is to make my father laugh. He's got a very quick wit, so I KNOW I'm being funny if he's laughing.

23. I do NOT understand what is so great about Bruce Springsteen. Or Bob Dylan for that matter. I have been known to pretend otherwise for the sake of avoiding an argument.

24. I would like to have one more baby, and I hope it's a girl, although the possibility of that much more drama in the house frightens me.

25. I am positive that as soon as I publish this, I will think of several things that are far funnier than what I listed.

Grieving

2009-01-22T16:49:00.001-06:00

It was a phone call that started out innocently enough. Having made it, I had no idea what would be coming from the voice on the other end of the line. I wasn’t prepared for that kind of news…I don’t think any of us were.

I remember where I was and what I was doing when the plane hit the first tower…..and I remember what I was doing when the second one hit. I remember where I was when I learned that my parents were getting divorced. After yesterday, the phone in my hand and the placement of my car on that particular street will be forever engraved in my memory as the very spot that I existed when they told me that she was dead.

My cousin had always been adventurous from the moment she could stand on two feet. Growing up in Northern California with two very active parents, she was always swimming in a lake, riding a bike, or playing outside. Truly, it was no surprise that as an adult she hadn’t changed. White water rafting, hiking, river guide, skiing, travelling the world….it was her passion.

Which is why it’s almost no surprised that she died doing what she loved. Mountain climbing with her husband at 10,000 feet, she was struck in the face by a falling block of ice, then falling 400 feet. She was killed instantly. Tragically, her husband saw the whole thing.

My grief is unbearable, for the loss of such an incredible young woman, with whom I shared many wonderful childhood memories, and for the parents and husband who will have to learn to cope without their beloved girl.

I will never forget where I was.

Hand-me-down snark

2009-01-21T10:03:00.002-06:00

Last night, when I got home from work, I picked up the phone and called my father. My dad and I have had a very rocky relationship for most of my life, but the last few years have actually been pretty good. We’re both older and have realized that life is too short for hostility between us. I am a lot like my father in many ways. Specifically, I’ve inherited his sarcastic sense of humor, as evidenced by our conversation last night:

(following boring banter about random stuff…)

Me: So….I’m actually calling you for something important. Do you have any plans for April 18th?

Dad: I don’t think so, why?

Me: (grinning from ear to ear) Because I’m gonna need you to walk me down the aisle.

Dad: ......Again?

To which I could only respond with laughter, because well…that’s my dad.

The good news is that we finally set a date! My mom offered to let us do it at her house, which will be beautiful. We’ll be doing everything ourselves to save money, so it will be exhausting, but I can’t wait!!!

Moving on up...

2009-01-12T15:08:00.004-06:00

Well....we did it. This weekend was the big move and we are officially living with Tim's mom now. This will be a very good thing for our family for a number of reasons. Challenging? YES! But good, nonetheless. With that said, let me just state for the record that I deplore moving. It is such an exhausting chore, and I'm still not completely done yet. I have to go back and gather the trash, the items being donated, and CLEAN THE WHOLE DAMN PLACE BEFORE THURSDAY. Guh. That's the bad news.

The good news is that the fellas that helped us found our sex toys, so at least someone got a good laugh at my expense.

Hey...I do what I can.

.......................

Also...it's Delurking Day. Which means all of my stalkers can come out of the proverbial closet and show your support by commenting.

The beginning of the end

2009-01-07T10:21:00.001-06:00

I honestly never thought this day would come. There are just not enough words to express the sadness that I feel from this most recent development of mine. As if I didn’t already have enough on plate, fate had it in store for me that life just wasn’t tough enough. If there’s one thing that I’ve been able to count on through all of life’s travails, it’s my sanity. No matter how difficult my circumstances have been, I’ve always been able to hold my shit together. Until yesterday, that is.

I woke up early, fully expecting to greet another beautiful day with a positive attitude. It’s a new year, and I have some pretty amazing goals lined up for myself and my family. I’ve been feeling great about what is in store for me, and I’ve been walking taller, with a spring in my step. I turned the bathroom light on, looked at myself in the mirror, and that’s when I noticed that there was something very wrong with my face. This. Isn’t. Possible.

And that’s when the hyperventilating started. In between my labored breaths, I scooped up my magnifying mirror and confirmed the tragedy:

My first grey hair.

To be fair to myself, and to further enable my denial, it was a grey EYEBROW. But still….it’s just the beginning. I inspected the hair around the frame of my face like a mother baboon, but thankfully I’m okay in that aspect. Perfect timing, as the month long countdown to turning 31 begins tomorrow.

DAMN YOU, 30!!!

Here's to 2009

2008-12-30T17:01:00.001-06:00

I know, I know. I’ve neglected you. For someone who only has an audience of 5, I do a shitty job at entertaining you people. The truth is that I haven’t been all that motivated lately. I think it’s a combination of bombs that life has chosen to drop on me lately, but mostly I’m just tired. I have so much going on that it’s overwhelming. I feel like I’m in one of those pictures where you can see me clearly, but all the cars around me are moving so fast that they’re just a blur.

If that even makes any sense.

A while back, I resolved to start helping people. Single mothers, specifically, who were in situations like mine. It wasn’t a half hearted notion, believe me. I began the research involved in starting such a venture, and even met with some people who I fancied to be on the board of my non-profit. One guy in particular, whose opinion I hold in very high regard, suggested that I start with me. ME?!?!?! Who’s that?

Anyway, he was right. How can I help others when I haven’t done it for myself? How can I encourage a young, scared woman to make something of herself when there is a bounty of potential that I have yet to tap into in my own life? The truth is that I can’t. And just as I cannot guide women through life while lacking experiences of my own, I fear that I also cannot do it with my own kids.

In an unscripted coincidence of perfect timing, this post is all about my new resolve. I hadn’t planned for my resurgence from writer’s block to coincide with the New Year, but I’ll take that as a good sign. In the start of our New Year, you will notice several changes. For starters, we’re moving in with Tim’s mom. With child support ceasing to flow indefinitely and Tim still in school, it just makes sense for us to cut back and start saving. Secondly, and this is the big one, I’ve made a decision to go back to school. It’s an enormous commitment, but something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I have goals for my career and for my family, and a college degree is part of that. I’ve started by purchasing a guide for ACT prep, because I never took it, and I need it to be accepted to the universities down here.

In correlation with these new beginnings, I will be writing on a new blog. This one will still be active, but I want to chronicle this new journey of mine that will be totally void of any references to porn, genitalia and poo diapers. I hope that once it’s up, you will follow me there as well.

Until then, have a happy and safe New Year’s, and may 2009 be prosperous for us all.

Wordless Wednesday (because I'm lazy)

2008-12-17T11:16:00.004-06:00

From family pictures we took recently (okay, not ENTIRELY wordless):

White out

2008-12-12T13:51:00.011-06:00

I moved to Seattle from New Orleans when I was just fourteen years old. My freshman year in high school and I was in the midst of a major culture shock, to say the least. So many things about this new place was so different from how I'd grown up. About two months after we arrived, I remember walking from third to fourth period and looking out the window to see snow flurries lightly falling from the sky. As the bell was about to ring, I didn't have much time to stop and admire the beauty. By the time the next hour was over, the snow had fallen in massive amounts, which apparently was unusual for the area.

By the time that following class was over, an announcement was made that school would be closing due to record high snow fall. The roads would be getting dangerous soon. Not living more than a mile away from school, I walked home with several friends who lived in my neighborhood. We hadn't walked but a few blocks or so when I stopped to kneel down. Snow had covered my shoes and my ankles began to feel numb from the cold, wet snow that was sneaking into my socks.

Once my friends realized that I was lagging, they stopped and asked why I had such an odd look on my face.

"It's the first time I've ever seen or touched snow in my life."

The odd look that they were referring to was wonder and amazement. Growing up in New Orleans, I had seen it snow only once, and it was really more like sleet. You could see it falling, but it didn't stick to the ground, and melted after only a few minutes.

I had the pleasure of seeing that look on my kids' faces yesterday. In some crazy turn of events unusual enough to debunk global warming, we had SERIOUS snow fall here in the Dirty South. Just two days ago, it was 65 degrees.

I don't know what it is about snow that is so magical and peaceful, but it has the unusual power of making you feel like a giddy child again. School was promptly cancelled, and so was work, so we played in the snow and took long naps.

*When viewing the videos below, please be warned of my obnoxious accent. I can't help it, people.

A warning to anyone who is contemplating breaking into my house

2008-12-10T14:29:00.002-06:00

HE WEILDS A DEADLY WHISK!

VICTORY IS MINE!

2008-12-05T15:40:00.003-06:00

Victory is mine! -Stewie

Laws control the lesser man…right conduct controls the greater one. –Mark Twain

It amazes me how intimidating a court room can be, regardless of what side of the law you’re on. Granted, I prefer to be on the side labeled “innocent”, but still…the bench that sits so high and all the wood and leather remind me of some nightmare where I’m on trial for not wearing any pants to school and I’m declared GUILTY!, just before being dragged away to some third world prison with Claire Danes. (Digress much? Sorry.) Needless to say, when I arrived at my court date yesterday to learn my fate for the fraud that my ex-husband committed while still a free man, I was more than a little nervous.

Hearings for non-support are a lot like traffic court. Fifty cases or so are placed on the docket for the day, and you are required to wait your turn while you listen to everyone else’s cases before yours is heard. Roll call was administered by the district attorney, followed by a public service announcement that THIS PROCESS IS LIKELY TO TAKE ALL DAY, SO WE HOPE YOU WERE SMART AND THOUGHT TO BRING A BOOK. Awesome.

While I did not have a book, I did prepare myself for 8 hours of former couples squabbling over who should pay what, and the thought of that left me feeling a little depressed. I mean, no matter how you look at it, these non-support proceedings are nothing more than broken families arguing over money and kids. I know, right? Not my idea of a good time.

Luckily, God had mercy on me, and my case was the second one (!) on the docket. I stood up to proceed to the front of the courtroom when the district attorney declared that the plaintiff (my ex) was not present, and that I was the “non-custodial parent”, who was to provide just cause as to why I should not provide medical insurance for my son and why support should not be established for my ex. Politely, I informed her that a) my ex-husband could not make it today because he’s slinging hash in the county jail and b) I have, in fact, been the custodial parent for THREE YEARS NOW. (You’d figure that being the District Attorney and all that they might know that, but I digress. Again.)

To make a long story short, the judge ripped the D.A.’s office a brand new shiny asshole for not doing their homework (which would have told them that paper work is filed through the courts, mandating that my ex has SUPERVISED VISITATION ONLY). She was clenching so hard I thought she was going to shit right there on that pretty leather swivel chair. Needless to say…CASE DISMISSED! As a bonus, she told the D.A. that I ought to get rewarded for having to waste my time in court because they didn’t do their jobs properly. And as an ADDED BONUS (yeah, it was a good day for me), the public defender offered to help me with my community property suit that my lawyer neglected to do with the $3,500 that I gave her for her (shitty) services.

I have but one message for my beloved ex:

Payback’s a bitch.

This is SO my luck

2008-12-02T10:06:00.003-06:00

There is nothing like receiving a phone call from the District Attorney’s office to scare the living piss out of me. I was contacted yesterday and informed that they were attempting to serve me papers today and that I needed to disclose my location. I had a split second to decide whether or not to hang up on the guy, but as I can’t recall having broken any laws recently, I threw caution to the wind and told him where I could be found.

For the next thirty minutes I wracked my brain as to what in the hell those papers were for. The only scenario that I could conceive was that it had something to do with that worm of an ex-husband who is currently rotting away in a jail cell.

I wasn’t off by much, to say the least. Turns out, I’m being sued for child support. The hell?!?!?! He’s in fucking jail and I’M BEING SUED FOR CHILD SUPPORT. At first glance, the papers read as though HE is suing ME. That the unofficial recipient of the Dead Beat Dad Award could convince anyone that I owe him shit was beyond me, so I contacted the D.A.’s office. Turns out he fabricated the Medicaid application for Jackson and now the STATE is suing me. You see…the way Medicaid works is that the person applying for said child has to be the DOMICILIARY PARENT. After we split up, my ex was responsible for retaining health insurance for our son. Because he didn’t want to pay for it, he applied for Medicaid, stating that Jackson resides with him. Basically, he committed fraud against the federal government to obtain benefits. Big NO NO.

Once you apply for Medicaid, the Office of Family Support goes after the OTHER parent (being me) for child support. RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT. This man hasn’t paid me a dime since August BECAUSE HE’S IN MOTHER FUCKING PRISON.

So I get to take the morning off of work on Thursday to prove to some judge that my son has lived with me all along and not his father WHO IS IN MOTHER FUCKING JAIL. (Have I mentioned that already???)

Awesome.

To show my gratitude towards my ex-husband for being such an asshat, I will promptly ship him a lifetime supply of K-Y.

Welcome Home!!!

2008-11-25T13:22:00.006-06:00

Well, it's official. Christy arrived home on Saturday - this time for good. Well...sorta. She's done with her deployment, so now she will be safely stationed in Germany for the next 90 days until she's out for good. She's home with us for the next two weeks, and to say that it's good to have her home again is a gross understatement.

As a birthday/welcome home present, I had some patriotic pictures taken of the boys to show her how much her sacrifice and her positive influence on my kids means to me.

Now that I've given her the photos, I can share them. Enjoy!

This is me getting over it

2008-11-20T14:33:00.001-06:00

I started today’s post as an open letter to my mother, expressing my frustration regarding the wedding that she is no longer able/willing to help us out with. As I wrote it, however, I realized that I was allowing my dream of having our loved ones share in our union to be ruined by my own superficial ideals. I’ve never been the type to put my focus on materialistic things, but I truly felt as if I was giving Tim the short end of the stick by not being able to give him a “real wedding”. The reality is that he doesn’t care and is perfectly fine with just “sealing the deal”, if you will.

The truth is that that the wedding that I did get to have was wasted on the wrong man. I’ve finally found the person with whom I will spend the rest of my life, and I just wish we could make a memorial start to our life together befitting how special our relationship is.

Part of me believes that when Tim and I became engaged, my mom had doubts as to whether it would last, so she didn’t bother to save or prepare. She bought me a dress, but a dress is hardly a lifetime of commitment. The plans would eventually be put on hold, and then no longer even spoken of.

We finally had to make the decision to stop waiting. It will be the two of us with a few family members and the Justice of the Peace, and I have to remember that it’s not about the flowers or the food or the dress or the photos. It’s about us.

I’m counting on the love that we have for each other to upstage the production of a wedding reception. Because in the end, that’s all we’ve got anyway…..love.

*Please forgive me for being whiny and ungrateful. I really am a nice person, I promise.

Remembering...

2008-11-18T14:57:00.001-06:00

My father’s only sister was never able to have children. Jackie had always wanted kids, but never married – and even if she had, her severe health problems had forbidden it. When my mom became pregnant with me, Jackie made the easy decision to move to New Orleans from her beloved Kentucky, so that she could be closer to me and my older sister. It was a sacrifice that she swore she made without regret, serving as a constant reminder of just how much she loved us. From as early on as I can remember, we were the best of friends. Jackie had this uncanny ability to think and communicate on the same level as a child. She was highly intelligent, having graduated from and instructed at Indiana University Nursing School, but yet had no qualms about playing games and just being “silly”. Whatever we did together, she was usually having as much fun as I was, if not more. She had a passionate love for all forms of art, and was the person who would gift me with my first book – Pat the Bunny. She is the one to whom I give credit for my love of reading, as she read to me whenever we were together.

Some of the most vivid memories from my childhood involved my Aunt Jackie. It’s odd for me to write that – “Aunt Jackie” – because we never referred to her formally like that. It was always just “Jackie”. My relationship with her was as casual as her name, and when something happened in my life, she was usually the first to know. Because of her ailments, we were limited to what we could do, but she always managed to come up with something far more exciting than what most of my friends were up to on the weekends.

As I got older and more mature, we stayed close, but like any adolescent, I began to develop a social calendar. Though I still spent time with her, and often brought my girlfriends along, there were times when I began to feel embarrassed that my closest friend was my 50-year old aunt. I moved away as a teenager but still kept in close contact, and Jackie remained a confidant with whom many of my long distance, all night phone conversations were shared. We were both getting older, and even growing apart, but the bond that we had shared for so many years would always be our common ground.

When I became pregnant with my first child, I returned to my hometown, but as expected, had a lot on my plate. Jackie’s health had become far worse than I’d ever remembered and she eventually had to quit doing the hospice work that she’d loved for so many years. That’s when I knew she was beginning to give up. Though I knew in my heart that I needed to take the opportunity to spend time with her before it was too late, I just didn’t think it would come as soon as it did.

When I got the call from my dad that she was in the hospital, I quickly found someone to take my little boy and got there as fast as I could. Though I was informed that she was in pretty bad shape, having begun to suffer with kidney and liver failure, nothing could prepare me for the sight of her in that bed. With tubes and monitors and wires hooked up to what seemed like every spare spot on her body, she laid there motionless, drifting in and out of consciousness. When she was conscious, it was only evident by the eyes that she struggled to keep open. I don’t think she was in pain, and a respirator was working full time to breathe for her, but I knew more than anyone that she didn’t want to live this way. She had always said that she didn’t want to be a vegetable, and she ratified that wish with a ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ order. We knew that this was the end, that it would just be a matter of time.

It was the end of a very long day, and we were all getting tired. My sister had to go home to her family, and my dad left to go home and rest for a bit. My mom looked at me and told me to go, that she would call me if Jackie began to decline any further. I politely said, “No thank you”, as I couldn’t bear to leave her side.

My mom dimmed the lights and we spoke softly of fond memories that we had shared with Jackie. Slowly, with each passing minute, Jackie’s heartbeat began to slow down, and the beeps from the monitor served as an audible countdown to her departure. A lovely friend from our church was there as well, and she sat in the room with us and prayed quietly. When I looked at Jackie, there was a look of serenity and peace on her face, the confidence that she would soon be meeting her Creator. I leaned in and whispered into her ear that I loved her, and that it was okay to go. A single tear rolled down her left cheek. It was probably a few minutes later that she died, but for some reason it seemed like both hours and yet just seconds, had passed.

I was still holding her hand when the rush of grief came over me that felt as if it were MY breath that had been taken from me. The woman I had loved my whole life as much as a parent was gone. I felt joy and sadness, anger and relief, regret and gratitude – all at once. A whirlwind of emotions so sundry that I was left suddenly exhausted. As she had signed in every greeting card she’d ever sent to me, I had just lost my “aunt, godmother and friend”, and I went home and wept until sleep delivered me from my grief.

It was no coincidence that my mom and I were there when she passed. I don’t think that my sister or father could have handled it, and to be honest, I’m not sure how it came to be that I could. I consider it a great honor that I was there. Aside from being a mother, there are many things in my life that I have yet to achieve. Being by the side of a great woman while she passed from this life to the next has been one of my finest moments. A gift that I will cherish for eternity.

It's my brother's fault

2008-11-13T10:38:00.003-06:00

I grew up in a house where we almost ALWAYS had dessert after dinner. It was a small luxury that I'm sure went under appreciated as I still, to this day, don't feel like I've had a complete meal without it. Conversely, my fiance and his siblings rarely ate dessert. There were four kids to one single mother, and dessert was regarded (and still is) as a special treat to be savored. I have to confess that I've passed down both my sweet tooth and demand for dessert onto Jackson, as he never forgets to ask for it if he's managed to clean his plate. Consequently, dessert is often a privilege that gets revoked if he has misbehaved. He'd rather be spanked than have his dessert taken away.

A couple of days ago, I arrived home with the kids at my normal time of 5:30. By now, it's too early for dinner, yet it's been six hours since Jackson's had lunch. I allow him a small snack before dinner, which is usually an apple or a handful of chips or something. As we're still working on the leftover Halloween candy, and it was a Monday (meaning I had little energy to argue), I relented at his request to have two pieces from the bowl. Naturally, he picked the biggest pieces.

It was about 10 minutes to 9:00 by the time he finished his bath and dinner (dressed in nothing but boxer briefs - bear with me, it's important to the story), which is 20 minutes past his bedtime. When he asked for dessert, I said no, as it was late and he'd already helped himself to enough sugar earlier for his snack. In keeping with his habit of arguing at everything I say, he objected, but I didn't budge. "Brush your teeth and go to bed", I said sternly.

He sulked off to the bathroom and did as I instructed.

He emerged from the bathroom with a new attitude, eager to kiss me goodnight without even a hint of whining or complaining. Odd, but whatever.

I kissed him goodnight, and was interrupted by Tim with:

Tim: JACKSON! What do you have in your underwear?

Me: What are you talking about? (simultaneously turning him around to see if he's got shit on his underwear.

Tim (very sternly now): JACKSON?! What did you just put in your underwear?????

Jackson sits down next to me, reaches inside that fold that you boys have in the front of your briefs and pulls out a small box of Nerds and hands it to me. I look at him in disbelief and ask what he was doing with candy in his ball sac. He muffled something about putting it back in the bowl...one of those half assed excuses that were thrown out because he couldn't think of anything better. I fussed at him and set him to bed.

When he closed his door, I erupted into fits of laughter.

Tim: STOP LAUGHING!!! He'll hear you.

Me: Sorry. But if he had picked a different piece of candy, like say a peppermint, that stunt would have been genius. He would have made his way back to bed and savored it into slumber.

Tim's sister used to hide her broccoli in the bottom of her glass of milk. It was years before her mom caught on.

Feel free to share tales of getting one over on YOUR parents. I can use all the help I can get with this one.