7 Days:Day 7: Kickin' Our Feet Up

We are beat. The week has done us in and we are so exhausted that I don't even know what to write in this description!

BYE, Everyone! It was a blast as always! As long as Russ remembers to send me a reminder email, I will see you all in March! xo

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 6: Spiral Portrait

Merry Christmas! You'd think I'd have a Christmasey-er photo for today... but you'd be wrong. The day was packed and i quickly took this one on the recently-almost-finished staircase before leaving to visit the Parental Units.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 5: Wish

Theme: Where am I?

I'm Wishing IN the Star. Merry, Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 4: Twinkletoes

All of a sudden, Christmas Eve is tomorrow. I wish now, that I hadn't spent Sunday in Epic Laziness. Here's a quick 7 Days shot to post so I can go about my business.

(And on a sidenote, this is the second of my 3 tattoos. It is a circle made of Autism puzzle pieces with 4 footprints running through it representing the 4 kids: Dillon, Joe, Alex and Mackenzie. Each of the footprints touches the puzzle, just as Alex's autism touches each of their lives.) Tim has the same design under his arm.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 3: Candy Cane

...from my favorite candy store in town. When I was living away from home all those years, Mom always made an effort to go downtown to McCord Candies to buy me my very own stash of their candy canes. This year, my new husband brought me a bag.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 2: Indiana Puts the "Winter" in "Winter Solstice"

It is currently 1 degree F here (-17C). If you visit, you should bundle up.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

Joe

Joe is 17 (actually, "seventeen-and-a-half" as he informed Tim and I last week) and a Junior in high school. He is a singer-actor. An amazing singer-actor. He's been a part of Civic Theater productions, school productions, and performs in his own band. Last summer, he played the Elvis-Singing-Pharaoh in "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat..."


...and completely stole the show. He had a lead in the school's fall production of Neil Simon's "Rumors," and last month put on an incredible Lumiere from "Beauty and the Beast," French accent and all. He made the school's premiere choir, First Edition and just participated in an amazing Christmas Show:



Joe has played the guitar forever. If you chance to mosey past our house, you are likely to get a private concert - even from the street (God love the amp). I'd worry about our neighbors except that the neighbor has his own amp to compete with Joe's. The following video is from his last school's talent show in 2007:



Joe is a typical teenager - he sometimes gets too big for his britches, but has a heart of gold and will help out if only you ask. He has an infectious smile and when he breaks out into a (usually mischievous) grin, you can't help but smile back at his giant dimples and sincerity.

Joe does everything at full speed. He often leaves doors open behind him and rarely takes the time to fully dry off after his shower - he walks through the house leaving a trail of water to show where he's been. As you can imagine, his room is usually a disaster and when we can catch him coming or going is when we have to remind him that it needs to be cleaned periodically.


Joe is intense. He feels emotions sharply and believes in his convictions with all his might. He tends to throw himself into everything he does, which probably is what makes him such an amazing performer. Joe loves to debate. To channel his skills away from the parental units, we are encouraging him to join the school Debate Team where he can debate to his heart's content. Joe loves Fall Out Boy and was horrified to learn that I had no idea who Patrick Stump was. Now I know.


Joe wants to major in Radio and TV (and Music) Production and currently hopes to pursue that Dream at Ball State. But that's "currently." He also has a tendency to change his mind with the wind. I'll keep you posted.



Even though his peaceful, independent, bachelor lifestyle ended when he, Tim and Alex moved into my home, I think if you asked him he'd say that he is happy to be a part of the Crazy that lives here. He and Dillon are like two peas in a pod - have you seen "Step Brothers?" That's their theme movie. He now has Mac to gang up on Tim and I with and to join him on a mall-run (or Sonic - they love Sonic).



I, for one, am glad Joe is a part of my family. He makes me laugh and calls me "Momma," just like Dillon does. He gives me a hug when he sees I'm having a bad day and occasionally kisses me when he leaves. He brings an energy to the house that Mackenzie, Dillon and I were lacking - he gives our ultra-laid-backedness (yes, I made that up. I do that.) a much-needed shot of oomph. While he adds his fair share of "Crazy" to the home, Mac and I agree that it wouldn't be nearly as fun around here without Joe in the house. So thank you, Sweetie, for being you.

7 Days:Day 1: Believe

...in yourself
...in love
...in your dreams
...in new beginnings
...in others
...in hope
...in Santa

7 Days has returned again, in which we post one self-portrait a day for the next *7 days* (heh, get it?). This tattoo is new and was inspired by this bracelet, given to me by Beth.

How Is Paige?

...Let me tell you how Paige is:


Paige is putting frozen peas in the cupboard.

Not. Good.

I Voted

You're welcome, Mr. Obama.



(Dear Dead Family-
You may resume rolling over in your graves.

Dear Alive Family-
You may continue to talk quietly amongst yourselves: "Oh, that Paige. What are we going to do with her?...")

(Added today - 11/3 - as Paige realizes that hitting *save now* is not the same as hitting *publish post*. Duh.)

Alex

It has occurred to me during the past couple of weeks that I haven't properly introduced you to my two new sons yet. As we've been on the topic of Alex, I'll continue with him and then introduce you to Joe.

This is Alex.

Alex is almost 14. He is 2 months older than Mackenzie, still leaving her in her role of the "baby" of the family. Alex is happy, he is sensitive, he is smart - he's smarter than you think; he has a great sense of humor and is quite a teaser. Alex is affectionate - he is a hugger and a toucher. Alex is non-verbal. He uses mostly signs or gestures and his few words to communicate with us. He signs "daddy," he says "ma." He signs drink, bathroom, movie, swim, fish, school, home - he has about 40 signs in all, including special signs for Joe and Mackenzie. He has about 15 words, including doggy, home, please, and no & why which he saves for those special occasions when we are lulled into a sense of complacency and we forget that he's our baby, but also a teenager. Alex always wears a ball cap and a plastic wristband on each arm (the current flavor is Livestrong)... always. Alex has autism.


Alex loves to watch movies and he'll watch them over and over if left to his own devices. He thinks Indiana Jones is great, Spiderman & Batman are two of his favorite heroes, and anything with a dog is worth watching, in his opinion. Bob the Builder is a favorite and Bob even has his own sign - simulating a hammering motion, fyi.

Alex loves airplanes and air shows. He owns a truckload of toy airplanes and several airshow DVDs. Evidently, a guy can never have too many airplanes. Naturally, he has a thing for fire trucks and all things fireman - toys, pictures, books, blankets, videos, clothes - you name it, we've got it in a firefighter theme. (All but the dog - we have 2 dogs, neither one with a spot between them.) Alex has a road map rug, facilitating the leaving-around of thousands of matchbox cars. (Watch your step at my house.) Speaking of maps, I keep a map in my car because Alex loves to look at a map (and then usually tells us we need to head to Nebraska or New Mexico or somewhere equally unlikely). Alex loves to play with an old, rotary-dial phone. He gets out the phonebook and calls his friend Ross from school. Sometimes he calls his mom or his grandma.


Alex really only wants to drink Diet Root Beer. In the morning, we can talk him into chocolate milk, and recently we've been able to sneak in some water enhanced with a flavoring. He doesn't like ice cream because it's too cold, but loves a vanilla milkshake. Alex will eat just about anything. He LOVES him some chips & salsa, sugar snap peas, and corn on the cob, but his absolute favorite is crab and will eat an adult portion at a restaurant (and then some - watch your plate).

Alex's favorite person in the whole world is his dad:


Alex will be starting at Mackenzie's school in a few days. We are hopeful that the new teacher will teach him some new signs, his numbers 1-10, some letters beyond those in his name, and begin to teach him basic but necessary life skills, some which will eventually lead to a vocation, be it bagging groceries or working at a recycling facility (the kid LOVES to recycle). We don't know what the future holds for Alex, but we do know that he will never lead an independent life - he will always need some measure of supervision. For now, we know that Alex will be in school until he's 21, after which we will have to evaluate the possibilities. Being unsure might sound scary, but it's ok - we've got 7 years to decide what we'll do, and until then, we'll just relax and enjoy our family:

7 Days:Day 7: Reunited

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

Yesterday was challenging. What follows is only 1/3 of the issues we dealt with, and only the tip of this iceberg for this issue:

About 6 months ago, it became apparent that Tim's 13-year-old son Alex, who is Autistic and non-verbal, needed something more than what his then-classroom could provide so at the urging of others, we started looking at more specialized and intensive programs. Unfortunately, as our town is middle-sized and not a large city, our choices were limited. After much research and deliberation, we decided on a residential treatment facility in Indianapolis that specializes in Autism. The plan was that he would live at school during the week (with visitors almost every evening) and come home to our home and his mom's home on alternating weekends. This was an intensive intervention to teach him sign language and basic life skills that was to last only a year or two before he would return to our home and pick up with his peers here in the public school system.

At the beginning of September, after much preparation and discussion about the transition, we took him to his new school. During the course of the past 3 1/2 weeks, Alex went from a happy, social boy to a despondent, weepy boy. When we would go visit him during the week, he would sign that he was sick - he wanted to go home and thought his was his ticket out of there. We began to think that he was placed in the wrong unit or the wrong classroom and has asked for a meeting with the school to discuss other options. But when we arrived for our visit on Thursday night, and found his teacher alone in her classroom, we decided to go in and ask her how he was doing. We noticed right away that the colorful and stimulating classroom that we had toured during the summer was barren and sterile. The old teacher had left and this teacher was new. Her responses to our questions were less-than-promising. She stated that he was non-responsive in class, that he had not been using the signs he knows, but that he could pick some out on flash cards. Flash cards? Learning more signs and enhancing his communication was one of the primary reasons he was there. I'm not a teacher, but I know that using flash cards to teach Alex to communicate will not work. We were promised a Sign Language expert and that everyone in contact with Alex would know his signs. This did not happen. The teacher stated that he seemed "spaced out," "lost" and "scared." She said that he had been "targeted" by a couple kids in the class who pinched and shoved him. When asked if she thought Alex belonged in her classroom, she hesitated and couldn't give us an answer. When asked if she could provide us with a daily or weekly update, oddly enough, she didn't even have our email address. We left her classroom knowing that this teacher was incompetent to teach Alex. Disheartened, we went to get Alex out of the Autism Unit to take him off-campus for a milkshake.

At 6pm, we found our boy alone in his room, rocking (as autistic kids will tend to do) in a corner, with the lights and tv off. He had on a dirty shirt, his face was dirty, his hair greasy. He smiled at us when we walked in, but there was a cry right behind that smile. We told him we were taking him for a milkshake. He asked, "Home?" We told him that no, his mom was coming to get him tomorrow - we were just going for a milkshake. Tim changed Alex's shirt and we went to Culver's where he barely engaged with us, leaned into his dad the entire time we were there, and signed that he was sick. On the way back to his school, we called the director of the autism unit and asked for a meeting with him today. It was arranged for 1pm. When we got to the school, we walked around the track a couple of times before taking him back to his room and reading him a story. He didn't want us to go, but we told him that we would be back tomorrow and kissed him goodbye.

Leaving that child there was one of the hardest things we ever had to do. We didn't want to leave him, but we didn't want to react to the situation instead of thinking it through and responding appropriately. A lot of people had jumped thorough a lot of hoops for us to get Alex placed there, in the "best autism treatment center in central Indiana." But by the time we reached our home, we knew we were bringing him home for good today and that no promise the administration could make to us would make us feel like he was safe and well in their care.

Our meeting at 1:00 today was cancelled due to an emergency. Ten minutes after hearing that news, we were in the car on the way to Indy, with empty Rubbermaid boxes in the back. When we walked into the unit at 11:30, we asked Alex, "Want to go home?" He laughed and jumped up and down and said yes. I don't think he understood the magnitude of what we were asking until we took the boxes to his room and I started to put his clothes in one. He watched me for a minute then started grabbing things off his bed - blankie, Mr. Crabs, and his puppet Sammy, and threw them into an empty box. He was going home and he knew it. The boy that we had lost for a month was back. He giggled and laughed and hugged us and smiled all the way home.

He's asleep in the room next to ours as I type. We don't know what the future holds for Alex, but we know that it won't ever be far from us again. We know that we can't provide the best Autism treatment money can buy, but we can provide love and safety and a happy home for him. He's here to stay. This is where he belongs.

7 Days:Day 6: Just Walk Away

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

We had a few family crises today, but nothing we can't handle together. Some things we needed to face head on, some we needed to just walk away from.

7 Days:Day 5: Public/Private

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

Today's theme: Public/Private

7 Days:Day 4: Everything Is A-OK Here

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

We are crazy-busy and perpetually exhausted, but Happy. And that's all that really matters.

7 Days:Day 3: Crackin' Myself Up

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

At first I was fake-laughing for this photo. After about 5 takes, I was laughing for real after realizing both dogs and the cat were watching me with a WTF-look on their faces.

7 Days:Day 2: Twirly

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days. The theme for today was "Action".

And what gets more action than a twirly skirt?

...wait. That didn't sound right.

Anyway, this is Me. Twirling. On my front porch. If you talk to my neighbors, they might say I'm crazy.

7 Days:Day 1: Peace

Hello, Friends! It's time for 7 Days again. It's been 6 months because Tim and I were so busy getting ready for the wedding that I downright forgot the Summer run of 7 Days.

This is my picture for today. It's been so long since I took a self-portrait that I was all sorts of camera-shy today and completely uncomfortable in front of the camera and it shows. Bleh.

That Which Can Be Vacuum Wrapped

Following is an account of the crazy stuff that goes on here...

Tim has a Seal-A-Meal.


He loves it. I do not have a Seal-A-Meal because I don't like stuff that will clutter up my cabinets. Also, don't like stuff that has parts (for example, the bags) that will run out and cause me to have to replace them. Because I hate going to the store. Especially going to the store to find some obsolete item that I have no idea where it is and then I might have to talk to a store employee and I really just don't want to do that. (Also, I almost accused it of being As Seen On TV, and I hate all things As Seen On TV, but Tim read this and called me out on it because it was Not Seen On TV and then I had to edit.)

Anyway, when Tim moved in, he brought his Seal-A-Meal. He asked if he could (because he's sweet like that), and I told him, "Of course you can bring it. (Because I, too, am sweet like that.)"

...As long as he left his recliner at his old house.

(He did.)

Unfortunately, we had nothing to seal when the Great Sealing Inquisition began during dinner one night. (Started by Mac because she had never heard of a Seal-A-Meal and was amazed by the magical invention and was curious as to how it worked). So Tim jumped up from the dinner table, grabbed the unit out of the cabinet, found the last of the bags, and was ready to seal. But what to seal? There were not 25 pounds of extra pork chops lying around...

Fortunately, we had just been to Sam's where we purchased the industrial size bag of Peanut M&M's and they were just begging to be sealed up in glorified freshness so that 2500 years from now explorers will find it buried beneath 10 feet of soil build-up and open the bag and lo and behold, they will be able to sample an ancient M&M just as fresh as the day it was sealed...


And also, some Pepto Bismol. Which I pointed out was already sealed for freshness, but whatever. No one listens to me.

Mac wanted to know what would happen if they sealed a PB&J:


Gross.

Then Joe was making fun of how dopey the Family was being and then made the unfortunate decision to leave the room. So they sealed his phone:




Living here is much like living in a fraternity house. You should watch your back (and phone) at all times.

Addendum: What you can't see here as I did not photograph it is that while Tim and I were out later, Joe retaliated by Seal-A-Mealing Tim's razor, toothbrushes, deodorant, one of my bras, and a thong. But I won in the end when I pointed out to him that he touched my underwear which he won't even touch as it comes hot out of the dryer, stating that it is gross.

...Boys.

Bob? or BOB...

Last week, Tim and I were standing in line at CVS when he said, "Oh! Your daughter needs batteries for her Bob*!" I looked at him while that sentence processed and my mouth began to crack into an hysterical smile and the giggling started. Simultaneously, he realized what he had said, and while the woman in line ahead of us pretended to ignore the fact that we were slowly losing control of our composure, we started laughing so hard that I had to cross my legs so as to not pee myself. And the more I tried to control my giggling, the more I pictured Tim buying batteries for his step-daugher's vibrator, and the more hysterical I became until I was practically bent over at the waist paying for our batteries and other random crap.

We left the store looking in our rear-view mirror for Child Services.

Funny. As. Hell.

*Bob, in this case is an alarm clock. Not a Battery Operated Boyfriend. We are liberal here, but not THAT liberal.

Girl, Married.

On August 2nd, I married a dream.



His name is Tim and he's the man I thought didn't exist. Our similarities are striking. People just meeting us think we've been married forever. Those who have known us forever say that we were made for each other.

The ceremony was perfect. Casual and comfy, just like us. Our closest friends and family were there to share the perfectly cloudless day with us. We had the ceremony at the clubhouse and pool in Tim's parent's neighborhood. There was beer and soda and hamburgers, veggies and potato salad and cake. The mayor married us - the ceremony lasted 3 minutes - 7 minutes from walk in to walk out. More than one person there told us that we "got it right."

Here are some of my favorite photos from the day:




Mackenzie and My Nieces


Tim & My Dad




A Moment Interrupted By 2 Goofballs

And at the end of the day, we went to our hotel room where we ordered a pizza, drank some wine and exchanged cards...



Perfect.

Puzzle Pieces, Found

On August 2nd, 2008, I will be marrying this man. I know in my soul that we were meant to be together. I knew it from before our meal was served on our very first date. He is the most thoughtful and compassionate man I have ever known. He is an amazing father to his sons and an incredible role model for Dillon and Mackenzie.

We are uncannily alike (beyond the fact that we share a birthday). Except for the unfortunate Sushi discrepancy, we have similar food likes and dislikes (milk, no; liver, yes), we watch the same shows (and share the same opinion of Reality TV). Our wardrobe leans towards the casual (jeans and t's thankyouverymuch). Our religious beliefs are in agreement (Catholics, lapsed). We have a tendency to take in strays (kids and all they drag along - the current count is 4 kids, 2 dogs, a cat, a snake, a fish, and a tarantula; 1 girlfriend, 1 wandering soul, and 2 friends who are always hungry).

He thinks my quirks are cute. I think his sincerity is stunning. He thinks my photography and writing are amazing. I think his chosen profession is admirable. Our children "get" one another. We fit perfectly together, like the last two pieces of an unfinished puzzle. I needed him and I didn't even know it. I thought I didn't need any man.

He is patient. He waited a year to ask me out; he waited until he sensed I was ready. He had a Three Day Plan to make me fall in love with him but he didn't even need one day. His Three Day Plan completely blew my Five Year (No Man) Plan out of the water and is an accomplishment he is very proud of this year.

I am Happy. It's been a long time since I've felt Happiness without fear or trepidation or waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the first time in my adult life, I feel like Happiness is not a temporary emotion. This Happy is for real. And it's here to stay.

Weirdness and Poop

Overheard in McDonald's in Smalltown, Indiana:

20-something guy: "I need to take a cold shower then check on my fantasy football."

70-ish year old lady to 90-ish year old father eating a small cup of ice cream at 11:40 am: “Don’t eat too much of that! You don’t want to ruin your dinner!”
Father: Scowl at daughter.
Daughter: "But it sure is good, isn't it?" in a timeless sucking-up maneuver.

Different 70-ish year old lady to 50-ish year old daughter: “Why do they call it ‘sweet tea’? This is not sweet.“
Daughter to mother: “I didn’t buy you the sweet tea. I didn’t know what you wanted. Here’s some sugar.”
Mother: Growl

Seriously. She growled.

First 70-ish year old lady to 20-ish year old boy at same table: “…my great-grandson has bowel problems. So he got some medicine and when I give it to him, I pick him up and hold him on my lap, and rock back and forth and sing a song to have the poopy come out…”

Which reminds me:

Dear Old People,

Please don't talk to us about your bowel movements. We don't care and it grosses us out. Why do you think that constipation and fiber and poop is an ok thing to talk about at the table? I really, really don't understand that.

Love, Paige.

PS - Dillon and Mac: If I ever start to talk about my bowel function as a part of general conversation you are hereby authorized to dump my ass in the nearest home. Love, Mom.

What a Wonderful World

It's almost midnight on a Sunday night and my favorite song is playing on my iPod. I should be asleep. I have a big day tomorrow and have to be up early. But I just wanted to post a reminder to myself that while I've been quiet lately, it's not a Bad Quiet, it's just Quiet. It's a Contemplative Quiet. My mind has been busy sorting out my thoughts and concentrating on work and my children and on Life in general.

I want myself to remember that tonight, I am Happy.

Who is Tim? A Guest Post by Tim

I've only done this once before, a couple of years ago when I let Dillon guest post on Cartwheels. But we've had a special request by Rachael for more info about Tim. So I asked him to read her comment and here's what he wrote:

"Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome." -Booker T. Washington

Who is Tim? The quote above says a lot about me. I have had my obstacles in life. Every one of them has a positive in it. Sometimes it's hard to find the positive but it's always there; we all have them. A son with autism has taught me what is important in life. When a little boy who can only say a handful of words looks at you at 6 am, and he waits 'til you look him in the eye and then says "HI," it teaches you that nothing in life is more important at that moment to him than you are. He may never say "Dad" but his love for you is unconditional.

That loud noisy band in your garage is annoying as hell. Be thankful those kids are out there and not out running around doing who knows what? Hearing a door slam at 1am means that your kids have made it home safe again. I wouldn't trade that door slam for anything.

I have told Paige many times that I have gone through a pile of shit to get where I am. I wouldn't trade where I am for anything in the world. My life is really good right now and getting better every day. There really is nothing I/We can't handle. Thank you to all of you that have helped her get through her pile. We have both come through it at the same time and growing closer every day, learning who we are and where we are going.

It's going to be good!!!

Contentment

contentment
noun
satisfaction, gratification, fulfillment, happiness, pleasure, cheerfulness, ease, comfort, well-being, peace, equanimity, serenity, tranquility

I don't remember the last time I felt "content."

I've lived much of my adult life in a constant state of uneasiness; unsure of what tomorrow would bring or even how today would end. I know now, what I can expect of tomorrow and I take comfort in the knowledge that I won't have to defend my right to have my own opinion and that I can make my own decisions without being judged for them and suffering anyone else's disapproval.

I am at peace that the decisions I have made are the right ones for me and my children, and that the people I have allowed into my life are leaving a positive footprint behind. I know that my life is better today because Tim is a part of it, and I am certain that whatever Life throws at me, I can handle it - we can handle it - no problem is too big to be overcome.

I am content enough to sleep. I haven't slept well in years, but lately I've been falling asleep the moment my head hits the pillow. I'm not lying awake for hours unhappy and worrying, only to get up and sleep on the couch, the TV lulling me to sleep in the wee morning hours. I wake up refreshed and with a smile on my face, ready for whatever today may bring. Because I am the one piloting my life right now and that feels good.

I am at Peace. I am Happy. I am Content.

The Good, The Bad, and the Weird

Wow. Remember when I used to post stuff on here and you guys would come read it and then we'd get to talking (and sometimes drinking... OH! Remember drunk blogging?! How fun was that?!) and we'd laugh and joke and sometimes talk about serious stuff like the side-effects of Accutane and Sports-Rage in Grandparents and Sex and Politics (wait, that wasn't me - I don't talk politics)... Anyway, we talked about stuff - important stuff - and we had such fun? ...

Good tiiiiiimes....

Well, it's been a month, and I feel as though I should write an Ode to April. I could title it "Weird as Hell".

First, let me note that I posted the following quote sometime in February. I liked it, and it spoke to me, but I wasn't sure why. Many weeks later, it makes perfect sense...

“In the arithmetic of love one plus one equals everything and two minus one equals nothing.” -Mignon McLaughlin

I had been living in a "two minus one" world and didn't realize it. I started to realize it last October. It took 5 months for full realization to hit. I can be slow to come around.

Back to the weird stuff:

• Grandma died. That's not really weird, per se. She was almost 90, had cancer and was in diapers. But her funeral gave us (me, Ali, Mom and Dad) the opportunity to reconnect with Dad's brother and his family in Florida. And it was great. I highly recommend hanging out with family. Mine and Alison's cousins are young - 13, 15, and 18 - their dad is only 10 years older than I am. But can I just say, I think we rocked the cousin-hanging-out standard. And we participated in "Bring Your Old Cousin to the Beach Day." You should try it. It's fun.
• Dillon got himself arrested. I hesitate to post that on here lest his Dad read this and use it against him he will, but let me just say, it's a fact. It was Really Stupid, he totally regrets it, and hopefully his one night in jail will circumvent any further plans to be an idiot.
• We had an earthquake. In Indiana. And it woke our asses up at 5:30am. I'd like to schedule all further earthquakes for later in the day. Preferably around Happy Hour.
• Cat spent 4 days in the Animal Hospital. He had a raging ear infection that last Friday we didn't think he would survive without the $4,000 MRI/surgery combo. Monday came and went without him having to be euthanized and now, though he still has a head tilt and walks like a drunken sailor* and will be on antibiotics for another month, the brain seizures and inability to walk have ceased. He still can't jump onto anything and may never be 100%, but at least he's alive and well. And, the vet somehow fixed his meower. He never meowed before he was sick, and now he never shuts up.

* I know. I've seen thousands of them.

• On the very day I thought to myself how grateful I was that I had not gotten a summons for Jury Duty, I arrived home from work and guess what was in my mailbox... A summons for Jury Duty. I am so not making that up.
• I had birds in my car. Yes. Birds. When I went out to the car on Wednesday morning to take Mac to school, I opened the door, got in, and was surprised to find 2 birds flying about my head. I asked myself, "Birds?!" Then yelled, "BIRDS," just as Mac was rounding the corner. All she saw was me screaming and jumping out of the car, flailing my arms about my head, screaming, "OPEN THE DOORS, OPEN THE DOORS!! BIRDS!! BIRDS!!" We did, and they flew out, and life was Good again. I still can't figure out how they got in there.
  
• I began a new relationship. This, in and of itself, is not weird at all. The weird part is that he lives next to Mom and Dad, I've known him for about 7 years, and I used to hang out with he and his ex-wife when I came home for a visit. His name is Tim. He's a Firefighter. In March, when I realized the truth in the above-posted quote and took back control over that part of my life, he somehow noticed the change in me and decided to ask me out, after having thought about doing it for a year. After spending 5 hours with him on our first date, I recalled how much I missed having another adult to talk to and it occurred to me that just going through the motions of a "settled life" - work, home, laundry, kids - wasn't enough. So we went on a second date. The following night. And we started to realize the millions of things we have in common. Now, my life is Enough. And I am happy. As are we:

I Remember, Grandma

We all remember her differently. I remember how much she cared for me and how much she loved me. I remember her being so excited about me being her first grandchild that she talked babytalk to me for far longer than was appropriate. I remember her putting eyedrops in my pinkeye when I was 3 1/2 and Mom was in the hospital having Alison. I remember the photos of me all over her house - that one with the geranium is still my favorite. I remember going to her neighborhood pool. I remember the intercom in her "blue" house. I remember her letting me ride her German Shepherd, Tina. I remember, after they moved to Florida, her dragging me around to show me off to her friends when they came Home to visit. I remember she always had Orange Juice for me in the fridge and homemade whole wheat bread. When I grew up and decided I liked to cook, she hand wrote out the recipe for her wheat bread for me. Twice. One version for the bread machine and one version for the oven.

Dad has different memories. He has memories of her that we will never know. Like why he called her "Maude" and what she did to create his intense hatred of Chicken Pot Pie. There's an old, black and white photo in my basement, of Grandma crouching behind a 2-year-old George in an Army uniform. Dad's the only one who knew that woman.

Mom's early memories of Grandma were of a tasteful, put-together woman. She says she was always fashionable and fun to be around and always going out. She says that her house was perfect and that she was an amazing seamstress. Mom says she could make or tailor anything.

Alison has the least memories of her than all of us. Grandma & Grandpa moved to Florida when she was still a toddler so most of her memories come from Spring Breaks, where Disney or one coast or another was the main attraction. She told me recently that a few years ago she had been talking to our Aunt Jacque (our mom's sister) about Grandma and how she has so few memories of her. She told me that Aunt Jacque shared with her how in awe of Grandma she was as a young woman. Her clothes and hair, how poised and gracious she was and fun she was to be around. For my sister, this was a gift. A chance to know the Myretta that left an impression on a room. A Myretta that could put an outfit together like no one else. A Myretta that was a lot like her.

Life is long, and people do and say things that they regret. But in every life lost, there are good memories that remain behind to comfort those who can Remember. I called her last night, when she was in the last stages of cancer. She was in the third day of a coma. I asked Uncle to hold the phone up to her ear so I could talk to her. I told her that I loved her and that I was sorry I hadn't been to see her for so long. I told her that I hoped she wasn't hurting. I told her that we had had fun when I was little and that I remembered it. I told her, "I remember the good times, Grandma."

She died at midnight last night and is finally, finally, at Peace. And so should we be.

Testing the Waters...

Huh. I appear to have pulled a vanishing act again. That 7 Days thing really wore me out. I needed some recovery time.

Also, I've been dealing with some personal stuff - nothing I can't handle. Though working it out seems to require more brain power than I can spare...

The End of the Month Crazy concluded today, and we all start with a clean slate tomorrow...

...which is April Fool's day, huh? That can't be good.

Do we need a picture to get this party-train back on track? Please hold, while I go find one you haven't seen...

(Insert Spinning Beach Ball of Death here.) [If you had a Mac*, you'd get that.]

How about this one?

It was taken a few weeks ago, during 7 Days - the night I was SO uninspired and ended up with a picture of a picture. Clearly, this one was rejected for that creepy "come hither, brewmaster" look on my face. But the beer looks fine, so here it is.

*Mac, the computer; not Mac, the daughter.

7 Days:Day 7: Fish Kiss

'Til next time, Fellow 7 Day-ers! It's been so fun, but I'm a little glad it's over - I was starting to run out of good ideas and was getting pretty tired of taking photos of myself.

Thank you, Sarah and Lauren, for your fearless leadership and for keeping the fun rolling.

See you in June!

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 6: Free Fall

Five years ago, I dove off this bridge. That 30-second feeling is what each day of the past year has felt like to me. In a few weeks, it will be a year since my divorce...

... I think I'm finally on the upswing.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 5: Me and My Really Big Necklace

The theme for today was "Me and My..."

Wow. I REALLY couldn't decide which photo to post today. I worked all day then had to go to Mac's 7th grade swim banquet. Then, I came home and took 2 rounds of pictures but I just couldn't get in the groove. Mac and I decided we liked this one best. It'll do.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 4: Sunshine

It's 41 degrees in Indiana as we speak (and look! no snow in the background!). My smile should be MUCH bigger than this, but as I am unaccustomed to the sun, my face is all squinty-like and scrunchy.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 3: Handstand

What does one wear when she handstands in the dining room before work?

....running shorts and stripey knee socks, of course.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 2: Blue on Blue on Blue

The theme for today was "Blue"...

Blue sweater. Blue eyeshadow. Blue wall. Blue girl.

I worked all day today, doing 2 visits for non-custodial parents. I'm a little more "loopy" than "blue" and I see it coming through in the photos.

Besides that, Mackenzie was standing just off-camera making fun of me, trying to think of sad things to enhance the moment. She only made me laugh.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 1: I'm Super

The 7 Days project has started once again over at Flickr. This is my entry for today. You may recognize my Super Favorite t-shirt from previous photos.

Maybe I need to go shopping...

It Takes A Village

About two weeks ago, my furnace stopped working. I was on the phone with my sister when I realized it. "Go downstairs," she said. "Your pilot light's probably out."

"Assuming that I do go downstairs, and I take the cover off the furnace, and I bend over and see that the pilot light's out, what the heck do I do then?"

And she thought about it for a sec and started to laugh. "Good point. You better call Dad."

But I didn't want to call my Daddy. I wanted to be a grown-up and not go running to my dad every time I need something. But after I thought about it for about 2 seconds, I realized that I DID need help, and my Dad WOULD be happy to help.

So I called him. "Jim" was here to fix my furnace within 30 minutes.

Then, several days later, I came down with a nasty, nasty flu bug. I was achy and shivery and miserable for almost two weeks. I went to work, then lay on the couch and wished I would die. Without even asking, my mom brought me a giant pot of Magic Chicken Noodle Soup. Then hours later, my sister called. She brought me a massive iced tea from McAlister's Deli because I was so, so tired of 7-Up. Later that night, Mom called and asked if I needed Dad to come pick Mac up and deliver her to school the next morning.

Last Thursday, Mackenzie got out of school at noon. And as I am a Working Single Mom, she had no way home. She called my sister and was delivered to our door, right after school.

There were many reasons I wasn't sure I wanted to move back home after the divorce last year - the Indiana winters, the fact that I have no friends left in town, the midwest conservatism, twenty years of living everywhere but here. I wracked my brain, trying to figure a way to move to San Diego. I considered staying in Virginia.

If I had any lingering doubts that moving home was the right thing to do, the past 2 weeks have put to rest those thoughts. I am so, so grateful to my parents and my sister and her husband, and for everything they do for me and my little unconventional family.

And In BULLY CAT and NEVERENDING WINTER News...

• Cat, 4; Taiko, 0. Two matches resulted in blood drawn.

• 4 inches of snow with more on the way; 19 degrees.

Things I've Seen While Commuting Lately

A black bear
...that turned out to be a really fluffy cow.

A blue horse
...that turned out to be a horse with a blue blanket.

A barn roof
...no barn, just a roof. And half-a-roof at that. I drive past this phenomenon at least 3 times a week and for the life of me can't figure out how this happened. I do have a theory: The side walls of the barn rotted and it collapsed. Then the people were too poor to buy firewood so for the last 5 years, they've just been going out to the barn and pulling board after board out so now, all that's left is the half-a-roof. I am so not making this up. I'll take a photo one of these days.

Half-a-house
...Honestly. Same story as the roof. Except that the house is brick and I seriously doubt that anyone burned it.

A TEENY-TINY chapel
...in someone's side yard. Perfect for a TEENY-TINY wedding.

A pancaked black cat
...at least I think it was a cat... Hey, don't shoot the messenger, I just report the facts.

A hawk stomping on something in a roadside ditch
...he was deadly, but beautiful.

A river
...turned into a lake.

An unopened bag of Doritos in the median
...Cool Ranch.

A grandma on a moped
...DUI, do you think?

Six deer
...conferring in a cornfield.

A haunted house
...I have no proof that it was actually haunted, but if I were a ghost, I would totally move in.

Winnie-the-pooh
...no explanation. It is what it is.

Oliver

This is Oliver.

He belongs to Mackenzie. She adopted him from the local Petsmart. He is a "young adult" kitty and the sweetest of the sweetest of all the cats she held. There was the hissing one, and the one with the twitchy tail; there was the one who had been "treated for tapeworms", and the big giant calico one who rubbed his head against her hand, but then sunk his claws into her shoulder. Oliver was the first kitty she held and the one she went back to in the end. They were meant for each other.

Dear God: Please Give Me a Break. (And by a "break" I don't mean make more of my shit break.)

End of the month reports and billing kicked me in the ass - I have yet to recover.

Dillon's car got totaled (he's ok but a very, very sad boy).

My basement has sprung 2 leaks - there's actually a 1-inch hole under the stairs with a tiny little river running out of it. If it were in my living room, the sound would be very Zen.

Taiko has many symptoms of this: Syringomyelia - he has slowly been degenerating and he had a seizure last night.

Turns out that I (barely) make too much money to qualify for Mac to get 4 years paid tuition at an Indiana University - FYI: I make an absurdly meager salary - Dillon's salary puts the household over, even though his paycheck is irrelevant to me and Mac and goes towards fast food, cigarettes, gas, and insurance.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, those Sundays that I've been working since September and was so excited to have free starting this week have just gone bye-bye with the incredibly bonehead move of One Selfish Person. And because I anticipated having Sundays off, I have taken on a new client and scheduled them for Friday Afternoons. I'm back to one day off a week again. But it was awesome to have 2 days off each week (Friday and Saturday) for the past 2 weeks. Like a mini-vacation to Hawaii... albeit with snow... and bills... and dustbunnies.

And I have to take Lucy in for a check-up on Friday. I suspect they will inform me that I need 4 new tires - I despise buying tires.

I very much would like to go to bed and sleep for a Very Long Time.

I Spent Today On The Receiving End of These Comments

"Hey, Mom... What do you know about Engineering?"

"I wish she was more careful with her teeth."

"How much did Dr. Oz say we fart every day?"

"Maybe you should read something lighter....like comics."

And my personal favorite...

"So. I heard your client's in the pokey."

And I Had Always Heard That Hell Was Hot

Today's high was 55. The wind chill is currently -20. Sandwiched in between this bi-polar weather was a period of high winds, thunderstorms, hail, and a tornado watch.

Currently, there is a layer of snow outside covering up a layer of ice.

Dillon went to class tonight at 6pm with his sun roof open. After class at 8pm, he went outside and opened his car door to find his car apparently sopping wet. Guess who left his sunroof open during the thunderstorm...

Adding insult to injury, the temperature plummeted and it froze before he got out of class. He had to drive home sitting on a layer of ice.