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.