In the eye of the beholder

As I sit, I have a veiw out my front window of a hill with tall majestic palm trees. They are straight, and lush and green. Palm trees often remind me of Noble Zulu warriors with elaborate head-dresses. I am sure many people see the simple beauty and strength in a palm tree. Not me. I hate them. They remind me all the time that I did not move very far from my home town of Las Vegas. They remind me that I live in a place where the seasons change on the calender, but nowhere else.

XX6 went trick-or-treating in a t-shirt and jeans. I had to keep a water bottle with me because it was so dry. I will be putting Thanksgiving decorations up in an attempt to instill a feeling of a change of season.

Sometimes I have to remind myself why I love Southern California. It is beautiful, anytime you can look around and not have your eyes land on a palm tree.

Hello.....Does anyone still care?

Hello all.

We moved.

My kid stopped screwing his life up and gave his heart to The Lord.

I have been in a fugue state. I am so eager to get back to my life. I am almost there.

I had a panic attack at the dentist, and had to reschedule. No really, I did. Even though I rescheduled, my jaw still hurts.

We are having shepherd pie for dinner to use up some leftover mashed potatoes.

I really think that is enough excitement for one posting. If you think you can handle the excitement, check back soon.

Sweet Serene Summer

My sister, the one I drove to rehab, is now staying with me. I am trying to remember why I thought it was a good idea. Oh yeah, living with my father would drive anyone to do drugs.

My commitment to get out and do things with the kids has not been fulfilled yet. I have family drama, real estate drama, and an unusually heavy workload this month. Still, I am taking tomorrow off to take the kids to the beach. Even though I hate the beach, even though I just received another assignment, even though it will cost me 50 dollars in gas, and even though I run the risk of an embittered super-hero throwing me far into the ocean because he mistakes me for a beached whale. Can you tell how excited I am? I don't actually hate the beach, it's just a lot of work for not much pay-off. I'm also not a big fan of sandy crevices, if you know what I mean.

My writers group is going well. I am so proud of my writers and their commitment to writing, and coming to share their thoughts on the other members writings. My book club is one of the things allowing me to hold on to my sanity. Having that to look forward to once a month is wonderful. It's also a good thing this month, because Rebecca may well be the only book I read this month!

I am the perfect storm of "get fat." I am stressed about choosing a house to buy, I am premenstrual, and my dad is torturing me. So.... I had cake and ice cream for dinner, (Entenmanns fudge cake, or as I call it, Period Cake), and I had chips and onion dip for dessert. All washed down with white wine. Now I know why prisoners on death row ask for things like fried chicken for their last meal. It is familiar and comforting. I am watching "Atonement" on video-on-demand. I am worried that stress may actually cause me to chew my own head off, starting with my cheeks, and working up and out. Any suggestions for how I can keep from eating my self into oblivion, chewing my own face off, or becoming catatonic and laying fetal position on my bed for the next three days? If so, I welcome them.

Sigh... I need a new extended family.

Usually I use this space for funny observation, or sentiment, but this is just blowing off steam. This is great steaming pile of "I don't deserve this!" I am the oldest of seven. Three of my sibs have had serious drug problems. One of them is a literal kleptomaniac. The two that are really trying to do things the right way are being completely ignored, or worse, my dad picks fights with them, telling them all the things they are doing wrong, while the ones with severe problems are coddled, or the efforts to succeed are sabotaged by my dad. When I try to take a stand, and say, "I don't want someone who continually steals in my house," or "I don't want my daughter looking up to a drug addict," do you think my dad supports that? No, he makes sure I look like the biggest bitch on earth. You know the sister I spent 6 hours driving to rehab? My dad went and got her from rehab without even telling me, and brought her to Vegas. How is that good for her? Why didn't he call me? Ask my advice, or ask me to keep her here? Because I think he likes when his kids are unhealthy. I really do. My one brother who lives in Temecula and is working and going to school, and never does drugs, is an object of rage for my father. My dad has an extra car, and instead of letting this brother use it, he brought it back to Vegas for my sister, who has been caught stealing, doesn't have a job, or a drivers licence. I am so sick of trying so hard to be who I need for my family, only to have my father actively trying to keep his children oppressed. I give advice, and tough love, and soft love, and I have someone undoing everything I do. I am so enraged right now, I don't know whether to cry, or scream.

What's left to eat?

XY11 spent the night at a friends house and they came to my house for breakfast. I was busy, (in other words awake) so I did the lazy mom homemade breakfast. Frozen whole grain waffles, fried eggs and cut fruit. I asked the child, we'll call him, ummm... Rickets, how many eggs he would like. "One," he replied. I was mildly surprised since XY11 would gladly put away a dozen fried eggs at one sitting, but okay. I then asked which fruit he would like. Cut up cantaloupe? Grapes? Plums, nectarines? No, nope, no thanks. I asked him what fruit he does like. None. Oh, then you must eat vegetables instead. No, nuh-uh, only corn and potatoes. Huh! And your mom lets you not eat fruits and vegetables? Yeah, she doesn't care. Wow! Not my place to judge, or make the kid feel like a freak, so I let it go. As the boys were finishing breakfast, I noticed "Rickets" poking the outer edges of the egg with his fork like one might poke a jellyfish that washed up on the shore. "Is it over cooked?" I asked. "No, I've never eaten an egg before, and I don't know how to." "You mean you've only eaten scrambled eggs?" "No, I've never eaten any eggs." My resolve to not make the kid feel like a freak was waning. I knew if asked more questions he would be self conscious. But, seriously! Oh my goodness! No fruit, no vegetables, no eggs. There's not much left. His entire diet must be comprised of either neon artificial colors, or goldeny-beige. Yikes. I am so grateful for my whole grain, fruit and vegetable eating children. I also don't feel as bad about the monthly Kool-aid purchase.

Writing for pay is very different than writing for me. Hopefully the stuff I am working on for my self, (novel) will pay me eventually, I mean the assignment writing. Speaking of writing, my amazing cousin got an offer on her book! It is a comical take on a parenting self-help book. I will keep you updated. Back to me. I am not being the greatest summer mother, but I am trying. The many hours XX5 spent playing video games yesterday indicates I might not be trying hard enough. I bought the recent Time magazine that focuses on childhood obesity. Guilt upon guilt!
XY17 has a girlfriend, pretty much for the first time. I really like her. She is very sweet, smart and cute. I am always pushing XX17 to have friends over. He spends more time at his friends homes then they spend here. I really just want kids over here so I can feed them. It's a sickness. I need help. I know.

Day three of Summer Vacation

I have committed to being a good mother this summer. Having a kid barely graduate provides ample motivation. On day one of Summer Vacation I took XX5 to the library. Yesterday XY11 had his crew over to swim. Today, day three of Summer Vacation, I took XX5 to the Summer Reading program at the library. The theme for the summer program is "Catch the Reading Bug". Today there was a lady talking about bugs. Or so I thought. Actually, she was a "bug wrangler". XX5 and I stood in the blaring sun for twenty minutes. The line wrapped around the building, filled with sensibly shod mothers and there adorable children. This is how it is, apparently, whenever there is a free event in Temecula. I didn't know, because this is the first summer I have tried to be a good mother. I was shocked at how aggressive mothers and fathers were in getting a place in line. I was really getting pissed off. This seven foot tall (approximately) blond lady was determined she and her three nine or ten year old sons were going to push ahead of me and my five year old daughter. Sure enough the mini-giants got a seat, second row, right in the middle, while poor little XX5 was banished somewhere over on the far right. I don't think so. "Can you see?" I asked XX5. "No," she said with a sigh. I grabbed her hand and marched over to the mini-giants with the primo seats. "I'm sure you great big boys won't mind if this tiny little girl sits in front of you do you?" They didn't. Turns out that may not have been the greatest idea I ever had. I was settled in, seated with the other parents, reading, keeping half an eye and half an ear open so I would have something to talk about on the way home. I heard the bug lady ask for a volunteer, a brave volunteer. I saw XX5's hand go up, sort of half-heartedly. Remember, this is the girl that says "ewww" at the sight of a butterfly. This is not a good prospect for a brave volunteer for a bug lady. As luck would have it, out of 80 or more children, Bug Lady picks the most bug averse child I personally have ever met. XX5 gets up there, cracks a few jokes, and then is told to act like a tree. I know my kid, and I am poised to leap out of my seat to rescue XX5 as she faints from terror. I almost faint as I see, behind XX5's back, the bug lady pick up a 10 inch long. 1 1/2 inch in circumference, black millipede. She drapes it around XX5's wrist. Luckily, my daughter's pride, at that moment, was greater than her fear. She swayed slightly, and her larger eyes grew larger, but she stood there. She stood there for about 30 seconds, and then she said, in the immortal words of BurpyKitty, "Okay, I'm done!" She thrust her her hand toward Bug Lady. "I mean it," she said "I'm done now." Bug Lady quickly removed the shiny slithery bug from her wrist. XX5 wasted no time return to her seat on the floor. Bug Lady picked another little girl. After the millipede, Bug Lady placed a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach on the little girls back. "Thank goodness," I heard XX5 mutter.

At the end of the program, we were told that there were barbecue flavored meal worms and sour-cream and onion flavored crickets for us to sample. If you ate a bug you got a sticker. A sticker wouldn't quite do it for me. If I ever eat a bug, you can bet there was a six digit pay-off involved. Or a Mercedes.

Here I sit, June 16, the first day of Summer Vacation. XY17 graduated by the skin of his teeth. Really. We didn't know if he was going to graduate until two days before the ceremony. I strongly suspect creative grading on the part of at least one of his teachers. But, let's back up a moment, to a few days before all four of my kids graduated! my father called to let me know that my oldest younger sibling, 27 year old Cilla is finally done with her ten year long opiate and speed addiction. I know what you are picturing, and you are wrong. My sister is gorgeous, still, and the sweetest person you ever could meet. She is just naturally kind, like our Nana. She is never mean, and the only time she has ever hurt me is by being addicted to drugs. I love her, but from afar, because I can't deal with how she has lived her life. Anyway, she decides to leave her very wealthy drug dealing boyfriend, and move from Philly to SoCal to go into an intensive year-long Christian drug rehab. I am thrilled! I am also the one who drives her for six hours to two different locations the day before my kids graduate from, in order, middle school, elementary school, pre-school, and high-school. If you have not figured it out, either from reading this blog or knowing me, I am not a person who functions well under lots of stress and time constraints. As I typed that, I heard God laugh. In spite of the fact that I hate driving, I was very happy to have that time with Cilla. I love her so much. I want my sister, not some drug-addict whose name I avoid mentioning.

I got home at around 10pm, exhausted, and knew I had a huge day the following day. I was pretty together until XY17's graduation. Then I started crying and couldn't stop. I can't believe my baby is grown. I want to make sure I am the best possible parent to the three I still have in school.

"May you live in interesting times"

Life continues to be interesting. Roser's mother was in the hospital for about six days last week. She had a liver biopsy and we are waiting for the results. big sigh. We are not expecting any thing drastic, probably just some damage from a medication she was taking. I am having a hard time being clever or artistic right now, but at the same time I am dreaming about writing. I miss it terribly. I think this is how poets are born. I don't have the mental fortitude even for a short story now, a few sparse stanzas are all I could manage.
XY11 is starting the pre-season football stuff; meeting the coaches, getting equipment, and stuff like that. Watching a group of 21 10 and 11 year olds throw together an impromptu football game while the coach talks to parents, makes you feel like not that much has changed. Eleven year old boys still have too much energy. They still have bruised shins and scraped elbows. They still get freckles across their noses in the summertime, and they still like being tucked in, even if they would rather be tortured than admit it to their friends. XY11's childhood is slipping away quickly. More quickly than his 17 year old brother's did. I wish I could preserve his innocence and youth, but I can't.

Sigh....

My dear friend, Prettyface commented recently that she feels like she is in the beginning scenes of a 1970's disaster film. You know the ones where the characters are going about their business in sunny kitchens, with a small TV playing in the background. You can just here the newscaster reporting on things like, honeybees disappearing, and coyotes becoming more aggressive, shark attacks, and 30,000+ people dying in natural disasters in a three week period. Little stuff like that. When she first mentioned it, Myanmar and China had not yet happened. I hate anything that has to do with end-times theology. I get angry when people say that the end is coming. We don't know! We can't know. The symbols and clues in the Bible are there so we will recognize the time after the fact, not before. But still, I'm kind of freaking out here. I think about the time in the '60's when the Kennedys, and Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X were assassinated. There was Viet Nam, and Kent State. I guess people were freaking out then too.

Mothers Day

It is good to be the mother of a 13 year girl who can cook. I had the best Mother's Day brunch ever. Omelets, sour cream coffee cake, caramel ring-arounds, and bacon. Roser is sweet, but XX13 can cook! Roser can cook too, but he's more of a dinner chef. Take my advice. If you have kids, teach them how to cook. It will greatly improve the quality of your Mother's Day Brunches.

All week I have been thinking about what I want to do today. I want to lay out by the pool and read. It will be too cold to go in the pool, but laying out will be nice. I have to start a new book. I don't know which I will pick. I have a busy week for work, so I am going to enjoy today.

Of Books and Women

I am happy to tell you about a new blog I am part of. Of Books and Women. Officially it is the website for the Book Club I am involved with. Unofficially it is a place for every one to discuss books. Tell everyone what you are reading, and what you are planning to read. Tell what you loved, and what you have hated; the embarrassing guilty pleasure, and the classic you think was overrated. Please check it out, and tell me, us what you think.

What TV has come to..

I am truly thankful for DVR, or Tivo. I am going to bed earlier because I don't have to stay up to watch my crime shows that I love. I was especially grateful yesterday, when I realized, late yesterday afternoon that the two hour season finale of "Dexter" aired Sunday night and I completely forgot about it. Luckily the DVR was set to record all episodes. Whew! Roser likes sitcoms, and we have those set to record on Monday night and we watch them as we can through the week. I was so excited last night to have two full hours of Dexter to watch.

It turns out, major life stress does not mix well with TV shows about dismembering, blood-draining serial killers. I got about fifteen minutes in to it, and realized it was a bad choice. A day, during which you cried in your car over the prospect of your kid not graduating , is without a doubt a sitcom day. I had several to choose from. This brings me to my complaint. What the H-E-double hockey sticks is wrong with sitcoms? I thought "Friends" and "Seinfeld" introduced a new era of comedy. I thought realism, and subtlety was the new funny. I thought the days of bouncing breasts and the lecherous neighbor went out with Chrissy, Janet and Jack. Some of the humor in "Rules of Engagement" is sharp, observational and funny. Much of the interaction between the long married couple have Roser and I looking at each other knowingly, laughing uncomfortably. The relationship between the engaged couple is one we all remember. But, like a salad where all the components are fresh and tasty, except for one rotten slimy cucumber, there is a stereotype straight out of the Benny Hill '70s. The single neighbor is a repulsive sex and porn addict. He is a caricature and completely unbelievable. He is a fly in the ointment of this otherwise perfectly fine, (though not great) sitcom. Every time he is on the screen, I am annoyed. No one in real life would act like this, and if they did, they wouldn't have a job. (Downloading so much porn on his computer that it crashes, in his huge, presidentially appointed corner office, and then trying to have sex with the sexy tech who arrives to fix it.) The other object of my disdain is "The Big Bang Theory". I know the premise wasn't much to start with, but I thought it would be a light silly comedy. It is. Light, and a little silly, but not very funny. I watch it mostly cause the guy who was Darlene's boyfriend on "Rosanne" is on it, and I have sort of a weird crush on the robotic roommate, Sheldon. The show was consistently bland, occasionally slightly funny, until last night. Sheldon, the autistic savant has a super-hot twin sister, that his roommate and colleague of many years didn't know existed. By super hot, of course, I mean comically large breasts. Well, at least something was funny. Sort of. She was just one of the many girls Jack and Larry fought over in "Three's Company". A card board cutout, though definitely not flat.

In these sad, difficult times, I think we deserve decent comedy. Something believable, and with out stock characters. I feel like the creators of these shows don't care enough to make an enjoyable show. It feels like good enough is just good enough.

Don't even get me started on "Two and a Half Men".

Sorry.....

Deadlines and sick kids. I have an elephant sitting on my chest and a python wrapped around my head. When I am lucky, they are not both there at once. And so... here is a list of things I am grateful for

1. My faith in my Creator. With out the grace of Jesus I would not get out of bed in the morning.


2. My children have never been hungry.


3. I have a job I love.


4. My husband is a source strength, not a sapper of strength.


5. None of my kids are in big trouble.


6. The kids and Steve and I talk to each other.


7. Books.


8. My friends.

There is much more, of course. But since I was up late with a restless XX5 last night, I can't think of anything else. What are you grateful for?

I am reading 'The Witch of Cologne'. Per Burpykitty's request, (pronouncement) I will be reading 'The Birth House' next. What are you reading? Should I read it?

Today is someone's Birthday

Today is someones Birthday. Someone I have known for...about 12 years. The first time I met her, she was vulnerable. She was going through one of the worst times in her life. It was not representative of who she was at all. We loosely shared a group of friends over the next several years, and would be in the same place or events occasionally. She has the kind of looks that make you assume things about her. Between her beauty and her air of confidence, she seems as though she doesn't need anybody. When I found out, at a Princess House Party, that she reads so much she occasionally offends people, I was shocked. She didn't 'look' like a reader. I know, who does? Even after this revelation, it was another five years before we forged a friendship, independent of those around us. Not surprisingly, it started over a book club. I found out that I had access to a treasure, all that time, and I didn't know it.

She is still beautiful, so much more so now, because of the strength that I know lies within her. She is quietly observant, withholding her opinion until she's ready. She is steadfast, committed to doing the right thing, committed to knowing what the right thing is. Her standards are high, but she is forgiving. She smile easily, laughs easily, and cries sometimes. She has been easy to be friends with. Not many people are. Most people object to my close relationship with my husband, and my children. She is too busy with the close relationships in her own life to be affected by mine. She has been at once, a relief and a joy. The best part about her is her ever-changing, ever-striving nature. She will not be the same friend a year from now. She will have grown, and learned new things. I am lucky to know her.

Happy Birthday BurpyKitty

Things that Make Me Happy

As you know, I have been a little stressed out lately. I started thinking yesterday about things that make me happy. I have always been able to extract joy from the mundane. I consider it one of God's gifts to me in exchange for some of the lousy cards I was dealt.

Here are some things that made me happy recently.

• Making quesadillas for XY1y and his two friends who dropped him off after school.


• XX11 letting me hug him for a long time in front of XX17's friends


• Going to the nursery to buy herbs, strawberry plants, tomato plants, peppers and spinach.


• Making a delicious dressing for salad with only four ingredients.


• My box of produce from the CSA


• The long hug I got from XX13 when she got home from school yesterday.


• Getting to go up to my room after the kids got home from school and hang out while Roser made dinner. (This made me really! happy.)

There are also things that make me happy in general. Cooking. Tucking XX5 in bed. Going in to kiss XY11 after he has gone to bed, and turning his radio down or off. Waking up and falling asleep next to my most favorite person in the whole wide world. I have many things in my life that still make me happy. I am still feeling a little weighed down by the world, but I know it is temporary.

What makes you happy?

My Eeyore Moment

I am reading Body Double by Tess Gerritsen. I am taking a break from literature in favor of escapism.

This has been a sucky Spring. Not just for me, for many people I know and love. Loved ones are dying, marriages are difficult, and children are going astray. Add in that most of us are working twice as hard for half as much money, I would say that Spring of 2008 rivals Fall of 2001 for highest concentration of lousy shit happening in a compressed amount of time. On the plus side, a very beautiful baby was born this Spring. Hope is alive.

With the many things going on, and difficulties, I feel my life being distilled. I want to figure out what is really important and focus on that. Problem is, I am not sure about what that is. I know the obvious, family, faith, health, but what does that really mean? Why do I buy organic vegetables and smoke? How do I balance my love for my husband, and my desire to spend time alone with him with my love for my children and their desire to spend time with me? Am I doing the right thing to prepare them for a life as Christians. Don't even get me started about education. Let's just say, I will not putting an order in for XY17's graduation cake too far ahead of time! After some thought, I will be putting a map in XX13's room. What do you, especially those of you who know me, but even those who don't, what do you think is important?

Just Checking In

I've been away awhile, I know. I don't have a good excuse, so I won't try. I am not feeling chipper, or clever, just letting you know I am alive. I am reading "I Am Legend" by Richard Matheson. Not surprisingly, it is better than the movie. Roser's mistress is back in town in the form of the San Diego Padres. I will be lonely and pining for his affections. Maybe I will spend more time on my blog.