And Have I Mentioned That My Church Rocks?

Man I love Sundays. Because it means I get to go to church. And if you knew me like some of you reading this know me - you'd know how funny that sounds. If you could go back and talk to me back in...oh...say...anywhere between 1986 and 2004 and tell me that someday I'd be totally stoked for church every Sunday, I'd probably ask you what you were smoking.

I may have mentioned that my step-2nd-cousin (and that's real) invited me to the Cambridge Vineyard (now the Greater Boston Vineyard) back in February of 2005. I almost said no but God poked me in the head and reminded me of all the years I talked about "someday" finding a church while never actually trying to find one. I went with a good friend - both of us ready to bolt at the first sign of weird. The first sign of weird ended up being Trish testifying in what would turn out to be a foreshadowing of her book (I'm just kidding about the weird - she was cute and perky - which to me was weird). But at the time she wasn't my favorite author - she was just some goofy Christian Pollyanna wife with whom I'd never have anything in common. Oh yes, because I was just way too cool. Thankfully, God cured me of that misconception and turned that church into my new family that gently got me turned looking in the right direction - straight at God in stead of all the stupidity surrounding me. It was the first church where I felt like people were completely imperfect and very open in admitting that. No one was better than anyone. They were all just trying to get to Jesus and had no problem inviting anyone along that was wanting to find him, too. That's probably a gross misrepresentation. But that's what I saw at the time. And that's what really pulled me in (not the free bagels and coffee).

Anyhoo, when I moved down to Austin in 2005, I was scared to leave my new church; my new faith. What if I couldn't find a good church? What if they were all a bunch of crazy bible-thumping, snake-handling, southern freaks? I knew that Boston church was rather an anomaly for the region. It was like finding a little patch of southern hospitality up in Boston. What are the odds of that? I prayed so hard for God to find me the right church. I was terrified I'd be the only brunette in the whole state. I wasn't sure I could attend a church full of former cheer leading, perfectly coiffed, bleach blond southern belles. I was sure my rough New England edges would chafe everyone down here. I knew God would find me a church. But I thought it would take two or more years of me jumping around from church to church. I was scared my new zeal would wane during that time and what if I just went back to being the same old crappy me. Yah - good thing I had so much faith in God, eh? I mean, finding me a good church - big order - what with him being the Creator Of All Things and all...

I tried one church when I was down there house hunting. It wasn't a fit. One failure to me meant I had proven my theory that I would never find the right church for me in Austin. (Again, refer to the last two sentences of the previous paragraph) When we finally moved down here, I was scared. What if I didn't meet other real God people. What if I just met judgemental fear mongers? What if what if what if?

I didn't give up. I started my two year quest for the perfect church. I found a small start up church in Austin. I didn't have much hope. But I dragged both my boys and readied myself for the ocean of makeup and perfect blond hair-do's. When I walked in, the first person I met was a gorgeous young blond woman. Great. But...no makeup. Hmmm. And she wasn't all pageant mom'd out. I told her I was visiting from the Cambridge Vineyard in Boston and she nearly jumped out of her skin, "I used to go there!" Get OUT. I mentally looked up and thought, "Ok God. I got it. Message received." She dragged me around the church introducing me to everyone. The 2nd person I met was the pastor. Which was surprising. The Boston church is so huge that if you meet the pastor, you pretty much got lucky. Most people at this new church were transplants from other states. There wasn't a perky pageant mom among them (and I know all pageant moms are not evil - it's just a mental hurtle I had to get over so humor me).

That was some time in October of 2005. Since then, the original head pastors (a married couple I still adore) moved to pastor a church in California. Our new head pastors (another married couple), Kenny and Michelle, turned out to be two of my most wonderful friends here. Our church has a new name as of this year - The Bridge Church of Austin. We have new people coming in. I teach once a month. I do the food service. I sing in the worship team. I go to a home group every other week. I try (not so well) to go to a worship home group every week to jam and hang with good friends. It seriously cracks me up. It is just so far from where I was a mere 3 or 4 years ago. My life has nearly fallen apart and I'm just so ridiculously happy, over all. A huge part of that is this church family that God has decided needs to be subjected to me. Ha!

The music director and his wife, Jason and Beth, are awesome. Beth was one of the cute perky ones that I had written off (as is my wont) as someone I'd never connect with. Poof! Instant best friend. She has been one of the most amazing supporters during my whole divorce. Both she and Jason have never withdrawn their friendship from my future ex, either. Neither have the head pastors. And Jason & Beth have produced what I hope is my future daughter-in-law (just kidding Jason!).

The youth pastors (yet another married team), Leslie and Nathan - they rock. Man, I'm typing this realizing I had done my snap judgement dismissal thing on more than half the church! What an idiot I was! Leslie and Nathan are rather quiet initially. Which of course terrifies me. So I probably assumed I annoyed them and just kind of steered clear. Their patience and compassion is immeasurable. Leslie and I have connected on a level that has surprised us both. I just think they are amazing.

That first woman I met? Not only is she gorgeous and blond and from California, but her name is Summer. Honestly. And she's amazingly gifted, funny, and understanding. I really should hate her. But I can't. Plus, she has an amazingly wonderful husband, Justin, who I have to adore because he went to MIT which gives us all our Boston connection. Plus, he's just super nice and laughs at my jokes.

The education director, Kendra, and her husband Jon (one of our lay pastors) are the bomb. Jon is a math teacher (which I would have been had I not bailed in my 3rd year of college). He and I also have almost the same collection of myth & fantasy books. Kendra is amazingly sweet, gorgeous and patient. She has worked the teacher's schedule around my wildly flailing emotional states over the last year. And if you could see their kids - good gravy! Honestly, the most adorable little beams of sunshine you've ever seen.

Another one of my friends who seems to just get me is Erin. She and her husband Brian have been huge supporters and just dote huge gobs of love and prayer over me. Erin - man - I don't have the words. She just gets a whole level of what I've been going through this past year. She has never once been shocked at any level of anger or language that comes out of me. She never judges. She is so amazingly sweet.

And some newcomers to my life in that church - they returned to this church this past year. I found out later they had been members a while back but had decided to go try other churches. Lucky for me, they returned. Deanne & Robert are awesome. He's on the worship team with me. And she is like a younger me - putting out that tough exterior - trying to hide the totally vulnerable mushy interior. Oh I get that. Yah, I get that.

There are tons more and I'd have to write a post about every single family there. But those were the players in my Sunday today.

So blah blah blah. Good grief I do go on!

What got me today is, well, I'm on the worship team. So that means I'm always singing after service. So when they offer prayer for people (the prayer team stands off to the side and you can go ask for prayer for anything from a ripped cuticle to my life is falling apart and my head wants to explode), I'm usually up there singing. When worship is over, I'm wrangling boys and breaking down the food service. Today was no different. Except my wonderful friend Kim already had the food service mostly broken down by the time I got over there. (She's another quiet one I figured I drove nuts. Wrong again.) Anyway, I was running around doing my whole crazy routine. And Robert grabs me and goes, "Come here. We have to pray for you." I was like, uh...ok? I thought it was really cool. He knows about my migraines. He knows the future ex left yesterday. He knows my stress levels. And he knew I would probably go get prayer if I wasn't running around with my head cut off.

So Robert drags me over and there are some of our most amazing prayer warriors - Herb & Georgia (one of the most beautiful faith filled couples who mean so much to me and my parents) and Robert's wife Deanne. So they put me in the middle and lay hands on me and just start praying for me. Just whatever came to their minds. Asking God to be a father to me - like a daddy to his little girl. Asking God to take the migraines away and for healing of my strep. Asking for wisdom for me as a single mom. Asking for strength. Praying protection over my boys. It was amazing. And then, as I'm standing there absorbing it all, I keep hearing more and more voices agreeing in prayer around me. More hands are on my back, my head, my arms. When we were finally done, I open my eyes and look around and I'm surrounded by so many people who were still there, looked over, saw people praying over me, knew my need, and joined in. That blows my mind. They are so LOVING. And CARING. It's not just something they do to look cool. Every single person that walked over there really wanted to add to the prayer. To the power of praying together as a church. For me. Me. Whew.

My church rocks. God didn't make me spend two years searching. He knew I needed a strong church family that would keep my renewed faith grounded. That would foster it. That would hold me accountable. That would lift me up and stand in the gap for me. That would ignore the rough facade I put out and just love the vulnerable idiot inside. Unconditionally. Real God people. These are what I call real Christians. Totally imperfect. And totally willing to admit that. Putting all their faith in Jesus.

God - bless every single one of the wonderful family members you've given me at this church. They are so awesome. They are being your arms around me. They are speaking your words in my ears. They are sharing your love with me. They are being so faithful in their efforts toward me and my family - bless them for that, God. Amen.

Plert

Guh.

Last night, survived another migraine. It wasn't as bad as the last one which is why I was mistaking it for a sinus headache all day. Until mom stopped by to check on me. She watched the boys while I went to lay down. After a while, I finally ended up kneeling at the porcelain throne. Gyeck. I can tell you this - I could never be bulimic.

Today, future ex actually left. I mean, assume he did. That was his plan. So I assume I officially have the state of Texas to myself now. Mr. Texas-Hater is gone. Mixed feelings. I'm glad to have him out of my hair. But the betrayed abandoned me is a bit on edge. Rather brought up all the old feelings again. I started out the morning asking God to take all the vengeful thoughts away - turning it all over to him. Again. *sigh*

A while ago, Pokemon Boy came up looking rather pensive. He said, "It's kind of weird. I'm not really that sad about dad leaving. I mean, I was sad when he came to say goodbye. But I'm not that sad today." I could tell from his demeanor, he felt guilty about this lack of sadness. So I sucked up my rage at future ex and put my spin on it. "Well, it's probably because you know you'll see him again. And also, I've asked tons of people to pray protection over you and Lil' Bro's hearts - so God can keep you from hurting over this. So I guess God is taking care of you." At this, Pokemon Boy gave me a big smile. But I can tell he still feels weird about this - I guess he thinks he should be broken and crying today. My sweet deep-thinking boy.

Lil' Bro hasn't mentioned it. I imagine his 4 year old memory banks aren't quite making the direct connection that daddy drove away today.

My awesome Sis-In-Law called this morning to make sure I was ok. She's so sweet. I'm so glad I have her as a friend. Even after the finalization and legal death of my marriage, she will still be my sister-in-law. But mostly she will be one of my best friends. Thank you God for preserving friendships with the important people in that family.

Hope you all have a great weekend.

Oh...PS - Lil' Bro is behind me. He just told me, "I wish I was in heaven. I wish everything wasn't real." Me: Hmmm. "You wish everything wasn't real? How come?" Him: "So our bodies could stay in heaven forever." Interesting.

Apparently, I have two deep-thinking boys. Oh God, give me the wisdom and words to raise these boys right.

Page 123

Princess Sarakastic rules. It is precisely for this reason that I do everything she tells me to. But also because I love fun memes and really love to break up the monotony of my whining with fun memes.

The rules are:
1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people and post a comment to the person who tagged you once you’ve posted your three sentences.

At the risk of making my regular readers all roll their eyes and groan - yes the closest book at hand is - you guessed it - Trish's 'He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not'. Seriously, though - I just brought it up to my office today. It's been down in my kitchen for about a week. What are the odds? So let's try this thing:

"Will I not choose to praise? Will I not believe? Can I not dance on the day that you set me free?"

Dude - if you could see in my head just how perfect that was for me to read. Seriously. I may just have to do this meme like once a week.

OK, I tag all of my regular friends. I'd love to see the outcome of this meme for all of you!

Tornados and Tears

Well last night was just all sorts of fun. And please picture me saying that looking all sorts of annoyed.

Future ex came up last night to hang with the boys and say goodbye. He leaves early on Saturday. As he was beginning the goodbyes, the storm that was wreaking havoc just to the west of us decided to wreak havoc directly on top of us. We've been through storms that looked way worse than this on the Doppler. But when I opened the front door, I have to tell you, I've never seen a sky like that. I have never seen just non-stop lightening that is just all over the sky. It was like someone put a giant cloud bowl upside down over our town and the lightening was constantly flickering all through the cloud bowl. That is the most retarded description when I read back over it. But that's really what it was like. I wish I had video taped the lightening.

So future ex was explaining when he'd see Pokemon Boy again. Pokemon Boy was crying and begging him not to move away. I kept checking outside - watching for a funnel every time the lightening lit up the sky. Just as Pokemon Boy was getting really upset - and I mean REALLY upset - it started hailing. So future ex either had to leave or possibly hole up with us for the evening. I for one wasn't really wanting the latter. He had to drive off in a deluge of rain and hail dramatically punctuated by the most freakish lightening show. As he drove off, Lil' Bro stood very silent. Pokemon Boy ran inside the house crying, "I can't watch him leave!" But he ran back out into the garage to watch him drive away.

Pokemon Boy is like me. Vocal and verbose. Lil' Bro just sat real close to me on the couch while we watched the Doppler radar. Pokemon Boy was distraught and just dying inside. It was so hard to juggle. I really needed to listen to the storm reports but I needed to comfort Pokemon Boy. He was crying and pouring out his heart with phrases like, "This is the worst day of my life!" The storm seemed to just confirm his feelings.

He eventually calmed down into a quiet brooding funk. He was upset about his dad and terrified of the storm. The weather radio kept beeping and it quickly escalated the tornado watch to a tornado warning. At this point, the weather alerts overlay anything you're watching. We watched the Doppler radar show the storm settle right on top of our street. We watched the little gold swirling arrow indicating rotation in the clouds turn into a red swirling arrow indicating rotation or possible tornado. It was close. Then the weather radio said a tornado had been spotted in our town. But I heard no sirens and the live TV weather guy wasn't saying anything like that. We shortly lost power a bunch of times. We lost our cable twice.

At one point I told the boys that all we can do is be prepared and give the rest over to God. So we stood in the middle of the living room with flashlights in hand and just talked to God. We said, "God we're scared. This is pretty harry right now. We just really need you here with us and ask for your protection over our house and our whole area. Keep us and our neighbors and grandma & grandpa safe, God. In the name of Jesus, we just ask for your protection over us," at which time Pokemon Boy added, "God, we just ask you to help all the areas that need help right now." I love how big that boy thinks.

I felt pretty ok about things but I will admit that I was a little scared a few times. Especially when the lightening was hitting all around us and hail was pounding the house and we kept losing power. So to give the boys something to do, we emptied out the entry closet. Then, we took all the cushions from the patio furniture (we pull it in during bad weather so it doesn't go flying all over the neighborhood) and lined the entry closet (it's narrow and very long). Then I got this foam mattress and put it on the floor of the closet. So we have a perfectly padded little cave in there now. They got their favorite comfort toys from bed. We had 3 flashlights. We put blankets in there. When the storm got real noisy and scary and they were telling us we should probably have things like padded closets ready, the boys wanted to get in there. So they climbed in and I sat in the doorway watching the TV. It would have been fun if it wasn't potentially serious.

Anyway, to my knowledge, no tornado touched down in my town. There was lots of tree damage around the area. Some schools in Austin were closed today because of all the damage.

After the first storm in the storm line passed us, the boys went to bed. I stayed up watching TV - flipping between CSI: Miami and the Doppler. It was hard to go to sleep because the power kept going off and coming on. Every time it would come back on, it would make some awful noises with the AC unit that sounded like a killer in my attic. Yah. I watch way too much TV.

I let the boys sleep in this morning. The emotional toll of their dad's departure was worse than the storm. I drove Pokemon Boy to school and clued his teacher into what had happened. She asked if he had known this was coming. Yes, he did. She said that explained how he's been behaving lately. He has had a tough time lately - keeping emotions in check. When your life spins out of your control, you tend to grip tighter onto the little things you CAN control. In his case, he became very aggressive with his little brother. He also didn't handle things not going his way at school very well. I love his teacher. She thanked me for letting her know and I knew she would be loving and supportive of him. She adores him.

Lil' Bro doesn't seem to be upset today. But then, it's hard to tell with little Mr. Stoic. There are so many people praying over my boys, I have no doubt God will bring them through this just fine. I just hope God gives me the wisdom and the right words when I need it - when they hit the bumpy parts.

So there you go. I'm tired and faking it today. Somehow, God always gives me bosses that are moms. They are very patient with me.

Have I mentioned lately that God totally rocks?

Ugh

Couldn't think of a snappy title that covers this. So I leave it at that.

This weekend, the boys' father will be leaving to move back up to Boston. That's about 2000 miles away. While I think that, eventually, the boys will be fine and not much will change, I also realize that his actual goodbye and departure will be traumatic for them. It bothers me on a level I hadn't thought it would. But they still adore him and can't understand why he would leave them. Pokemon Boy is being extremely brave and saying things like he'll go visit dad and it won't be that bad. But I'm not looking forward to this weekend at all. I'm not looking forward to the potential tears and hurt my boys might feel.

Anyway, I have a myriad of feelings about the subject. None of which are healthy to bare here. But suffice it to say, the actual physical departure of the man and his truck load of stuff bugs the crap out of me. It's the physical manifestation of his abandonment of his family for this other woman. Makes me sick.

And the other shoe will drop in late July. I finally have the court date for going and signing the papers. Which is the physical manifestation of the death of a marriage that I thought would last until one or both of us died. I thought I'd be all "Woo hoo! Let's party!" But I'm not. When I got the letter from my lawyer giving me the date, a funk settled over me and hasn't quite lifted. It feels damned close to depression. I'll just call it mourning. I still can't believe it's happening.

Last night, I had all sorts of weird dreams. Dreams that dealt with wanting to be loved, moving, insecurity, impermanence, cheating. Lovely lot, that.

I have small group tonight. I wish I could spend the whole day with my small group. I feel like going there tonight, curling up on the couch and just being...whatever. I'm usually the Pollyanna cheerleader - the gung-ho, God-rocks! girl. And he does rock. I just don't have the pom poms out right now. Which is another reason God rocks. He doesn't care if my pom poms are at the ready. He doesn't need me shiny and happy all the time. He doesn't expect it. He's totally ok with my little gray cloud hovering overhead. He's totally ok with me wallowing in it for a bit. A BIT, mind you. I have no doubt that, if I wallow too long, he'll send someone to thwack me upside the head. But for now, he's surrounded me with awesome loving people.

And I know he's got my boys. They're covered. They might have to feel some pain this week. I know I will. But God's got their backs, too.

Ugh.

Mother's Day

This is a shot of a wee Michelin-man-esque me back in 1966. I'm on a beach with my family. This is me and mom, nose to nose. How she could heft a lard sack like that is beyond me. The picture has aged and the detail in the face is a bit hard to make out. But this picture still kills me.


I hope you all had a wonderful Mother's Day. Lil' Bro came down with strep late last week so Sunday's dinner was cancelled at my house. Well, postponed until next Sunday. But my boys made my day awesome, none the less.

The first thing I thought when I woke up was, "God, thank you for making me a mom!!!"

Pollyanna Warm Fuzzy Fluff

I am having one of those really awesome days. Which is weird. Because I have a raging sinus headache. This one is allergy induced. I doubt I'll be kneeling before the porcelain throne this time around. But it's a mere annoyance since having the reference point of debilitating migraines.

Lil' Bro is home sick today. I think his are allergies, too. But I'll be jamming a flashlight down his throat later to check for white spots. I'm told some bad stuff doesn't always kick up a fever. So who knows.

So even with the headache and a sick coughing 4 yr old, I'm having a great day. Here's why.

Work is actually good today. I am on this project that is overwhelming and ambitious. There are a handful of us that are trying to do analysis on over 100 systems to see if we can make them fit into this enterprise-wide data solution thingy that will help our company hugely if we pull it off. So a smidge of pressure.

Every time we group up to hand out assignments, we all walk away with about 4 systems to tackle. I seem to have the golden touch of finding systems that are out of our scope. Everyone else seems to have the touch of having to wrestle with 4 systems. So I get mine done and then go ask the boss, what can I do? It's just what you do when you find yourself twiddling your thumbs. So right now, I have about 5 systems on my plate. 3 of which are pretty much done and turned over to the programmers. The other two are started and my documentation is sent out for review by the system experts. So I'm in a holding pattern.

I IM'd my boss and said, "As much as I'd rather go shopping, I thought I'd ask what else I can do." I didn't think of it as any big deal. But she really thanked me for "always asking". Which I thought was a nice compliment. I tend to look at it as, I'm just lucky to have systems taken out of project scope. So I should help out. But it's nice to know that my boss appreciates the fact that I don't just go shopping and pretend I'm really swamped.

As much as I feel bad having Lil' Bro sick, I do love having him around. He's a good little guy and is content to sit on the couch in a Benadryl induced haze, watching bad Scooby Doo movies. But I took him out for lunch and that is always fun. I don't get a lot of one-on-one time with him. Pokemon Boy got 3 years of that. This little guy was born into being one of two. So that was a nice little treat.

On the way home, we stopped by mom & dad's house. Mom was outside gardening so we got to visit with her quickly.

When I got back here, I found out that I was to help lighten the load on one of my favorite coworkers. I like all of them but he's my favorite on this project. It felt good being able to help him out.

So I was just sitting here after talking to him and I was hit with this overwhelming sense of needing to tell people how much I love them. So here I am. Telling you guys I love you. Because I had a good day and am overflowing with happy feelings. And because I'm a Pollyanna dork. But in all honesty - those of you that I communicate with regularly here? - I adore you. And I feel really blessed to have this kind of connection and support in such an unlikely place.

Oh and Sarakastic - if you want a cool post on ketchup, check this one out from Wanda.

You guys are beautiful. Don't change.

Ketchup

I thought I'd do a quick catch up (hence the pithy title). Not much to say but I'm sure I'll stretch it out to a War and Peace length tome anyway.

The Saturday after my last post, I didn't have my kids. My plan was to wake up late. I woke up at 6, then 7, then finally at 8, I lost the sleep battle and got up. But 8 is sleeping in in my mother-of-school-aged-kids world. So I guess I should be happy.

I was checking my email early and found one from one of my girls from church. She's going through a really rough time. The kind that makes you think, what am *I* whining about?! I called her and asked her plans for the day. She had none. Great! I hopped in the car and talked to her the whole way to her house. Upon arrival, I kidnapped her and drove to the closest Borders bookstore. We promptly went and found Trish's book. Only one copy left - which I bought to give my friend. So Trish, you're officially sold out in an Austin Borders! Way to go, frog girl!

I had intended to go visit a multitude of other book stores to find Trish's books and face one copy out. But my friend suddenly remembered that the Pecan Street Festival was happening in downtown Austin. I love street festivals. I love all the booths that sell everything from greasy food to amazing art to stuff you don't need but buy anyway. My friend bought me a b&w print of this amazing photograph - a closeup of a buffalo's head. The photographers specialized in horses, wolves, buffalo, donkeys and the like. Sounds bad in type but was AMAZING stuff. When I get the print back from the framers, I'll post a shot.

After dropping of my friend, I headed up to another bookstore in my town. I faced a copy of Trish's book - top shelf right next to John Tesh (which made me giggle). And I bought another one.

After grocery shopping for the church food service, I got home to find my neighbor was having a little cookout (this was 9pm). So I went over and hung out with them and a host of family and friends.

Sunday was church (yeah!) and then lunch with my wonderful BigSis. That's always fun. She always takes me to places I have never heard of. And they're always awesome.

Afterwards, I picked up the boys and we headed to a pot-luck dinner my church has every first Sunday of the month. It was fun and reminded me how stinkin' blessed I am.

SO my weekend was one giant reminder that God has provided a plethora of family, neighbors, friends & church family.

Yesterday, the future ex came up with a van and got the rest of his stuff. Drum kits, family heirloom furniture. Things like that. The boys were pretty ok until he took a rather prominent table & mirror from the entryway. At which point Pokemon Boy asked him, "Are you sure you're not taking too much?"

It's just stuff. Things. I don't need things to remind me of people. The day annoyed me, though. It kind of brought back the over all cruelty of his actions. The physical reality of his abandoning his family. Not that I want him back. But he destroyed a family. And is running gleefully to another woman and life. I doubt he can see big the void is to which he runs. *sigh*

This weekend is Mother's Day. And I get to have my mom here with me - again. Last year, she was here rescuing me and dad had roses shipped to us. This year, we get to have dinner at my house with my BigSis and the TallGuy. How cool is that? I got my mom a photograph from a recent festival in the town above us. I can't say what because there's a slight chance she'll remember how to get to my blog and read this. I also plan to pamper her with my BeautiControl products. I'm going to "spa" her while she's here. Should be fun.

So there's my incongruous update.

Abby Who?

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Igor, would you mind telling me whose brain I did put in?
Igor: And you won't be angry?
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: I will NOT be angry.
Igor: Abby someone.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Abby someone. Abby who?
Igor: Abby Normal.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Abby Normal?
Igor: I'm almost sure that was the name.

Well, today I received a very impersonal "letter" from my doctor. It's a form with a list of lab tests that can be done. And on the back, toward the bottom, it informed me of the following:

MRI OF YOUR   Brain     Normal    Yes

I believe there are those that would argue the "normal" part. But there you go. No woodland creatures have set up house in my brain.

Texas Love Trish

Well, over at Trish's blog, you can read about how today is her book's official release date. Most of us fans have already pre-ordered or found stores that had them early. I just finished my copy last night (minus 32 pages that some machine must have dropped somewhere). I will write a whole post later about how I adored it and can't wait for the sequel that picks up where she was teaching the SEEK class I joined in 2005 (I kid).

But for now, if you want to read something poignant, funny, touching and filled with hope on many different levels, please think about getting Trish's book, 'He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not: A Memoir of Finding Faith, Hope, and Happily Ever After.'

I'll give you my college drop-out book report later.

Smooches...

A Quick Update

Hmmm...blogged a week ago. What in the world did I do all week? I worked, I know that. Nothing is standing out at the moment. Until last Thursday, that is.

In my lifetime, I thought I had experienced migraines. I have had headaches in the past that were excruciating. I would have to put things over my eyes to block out all light. Sound drove me nuts. I thought that was what people called a migraine.

Here's the confessional part (and bare with me because I will apologize in the end):

Because my "migraines" had been totally survivable, albeit annoying, I assumed all these people that talked about how migraines put them in a completely non-functional state where slow torture seemed preferable - I assumed they were all just wusses and mellow dramatic. I was like, yah, that headache sucked and I really don't want to have them often. But come ON. I could still function! It wasn't as bad as some of the surgeries I've had. I've taken way worse pain than that in my lifetime.

I was stupid. I was ignorant and arrogant all wrapped up in one self righteous snotty package. And I beg the forgiveness of anyone who has ever experienced a real migraine. And for all the people that I judged incorrectly in the past? I got mine. Oh did I get mine.

Last Thursday, I woke up with a sort of nagging sinus headache. Usually when I have one of these, I let it go and it often goes away with the passing of the day. But it got worse. So I popped a decongestant which usually makes the more tenacious sinus headaches go away. But it got worse. So I popped a couple of ibuprofen which usually does the trick. But it got worse.

By the time Pokemon Boy got home from school (around 3pm), I was in agony. But still about like the worst of the previous "migraines" I had experienced. I could take it but I was going to be whiny. At one point, I stopped working, rubbed my head and said, "Man...it feels like my head is going to explode." At which point, Pokemon Boy became very concerned with whether that could really happen or not. And I mean REALLY concerned. It took some effort to convince him that it's just a saying and not really possible.

However, within about 30 minutes, I was starting to wonder, Could it be possible? Because let me tell you, it really felt like it. The pain had escalated to a level I have never experienced. Even the worst one I had experienced to that point back in January (at the start of some weird bug I had for a week) hadn't gotten this bad.

I couldn't talk. Just the effort of talking in a normal tone made me feel like I'd pass out. Movement of any kind sent me reeling. Laying down hurt because ANY touch on my face, neck or scalp felt like agony. I couldn't stand or sit up straight because I felt like I might pass out any minute. But couldn't lay down either. Finally, I looked at the clock and realized I had to drive to pick up Lil' Bro at preschool soon. That wasn't going to happen. I could barely open my eyes from the pain. I knew I wouldn't be able to drive, walk into the school, get Lil' Bro, drive back, etc. I just kept thinking, "I feel like I'm going to black out or die or something!"

I called my mom and just barely made myself audible. "Mom...I need help!" I can't imagine what she thought. I don't call like that. I don't ask for help like that. Because I'm usually asking for something like babysitting or can you pick up some milk for me. I told her what was going on and that it felt like I had poison in my stomach and Lil' Bro was still at school. She was on her way in a flash.

When mom walked in, I had been kneeling in front of the porcelain throne, willing my stomach to empty whatever poison was in there. Nothing. At one point, the pulsating pressure in my head and neck made me seriously consider the possibility that I'd be blowing some major artery any second. I was wondering if the violence of throwing up might not make me pass out from the force and pain. Getting up and calling "I'm up here" made me feel like passing out.

Mom walked into my room to find me pacing, frantically rubbing my head or stomach or I'm not sure what I was doing. I just knew I felt like I was going to explode. Fortunately, I made it back to the porcelain throne before said explosion began. Poor mom kept bringing me cool wet cloth after cool wet cloth to wipe down my face and neck as my body purged anything it could find - and then some. Later, my mom told Pokemon Boy that I had thrown up so hard, my toenails came out. [We have to remember that these figures of speech are taken quite literally by him. It took a bit of explaining.]

The violence and force of that very prolonged event really did make me think my head would explode. Finally, I was just in so much pain, I got in bed and just didn't care that putting my head on a pillow was agony. My body couldn't stay upright any more. I kind of passed out into a fitful half sleep. Eventually, I think my body just shut down and I actually slept. Mom went and got Lil' Bro from school. Pokemon Boy suggested they go to her house. But she was too concerned I might need her. Man, no matter how old your baby gets, you still kick into mom mode when you need to.

Two and a half hours later, I awoke. No headache and rather hungry. But very fragile. I ate half a bowl of chicken noodle soup (mom fixed it). I drank ginger ale (mom brought it with her). I went to bed when the boys did. Mom pretty much took care of everything. Have I mentioned that I adore my parents? I have? Ok.

The next day, I felt the same pseudo-sinus-headache thing. So I went to the doctor. He said it sounded like classic migraine. "Really? Migraines are THAT bad????" Yes, he said. And in that simple yes, I heard "Yes you judgemental idiot. What do you think all of those people you know and love have been talking about all these years?!" He gave me literature on migraines, some samples of some migraine meds, a referral for a just-in-case MRI brain scan, and sent me home with instructions to get enough sleep.

I took the sample because the "sinus headache" was already progressing. I knew I wouldn't survive a replay. It seemed to work - I didn't feel like it went away - like with other headaches. It really felt like the medicine squashed it. It was still there but squashed underneath some giant something or other.

All weekend, I felt rather punky and tentative. Except Sunday. So I thought I was fine. But Monday, I felt the lurking symptoms. I didn't take meds just to see if it was sinus or not. I hate to risk the migraine but I do kind of need to learn the difference between the signs of a looming sinus and migraine.

I went for my MRI on Monday afternoon. It wasn't at all as scary as some morbid doom and gloomers would have liked me to believe. The "tunnel" they put you in isn't all that long. If you're not claustrophobic, it's no big deal. The MRI machine is INCREDIBLY loud (you can hear a sample here). The earplugs didn't really block out enough of the din. And I had to make sure I took out all my piercings and left all my jewelry at home. I was in the actual machine for 20 minutes. My old boss told me it went so quick because they probably couldn't find a brain. HA!

I doubt they'll find anything abnormal. I was freaked before the test - amazing how all the fear and what-if scenarios attack right before something like that. But I put it all in God's hands. I asked him not to let anything happen to me for my boys' sakes. They need one stable parent.

Anyway, that was my last few days. I still feel a bit funky. But I haven't taken any meds today and haven't had any issues.

Oh I do love a good bunch of mellow drama!!!

Don't Pick the Right Guy

I thought I'd share this thought with you because A) it's poignant in my own life, B) it should be poignant to any woman thinking about having a relationship with any man and C) it will plug my friend's book.

So yesterday I was at church. One of my favorite friends there is a single girl (as in, never been married). I don't remember what started the conversation. Oh, I think I was talking about whether I'll ever trust that a man can actually love and value a woman in a way that requires him to toss his selfishness (yes, I'm momentarily jaded & cynical). She is in her early 30s and said something like she gets scared as she gets older. "I'm afraid of picking the wrong guy!" she said. "So don't," I said. She just looked at me like, "Huh?" "Don't pick any guy. Let God pick him." I could hear just how trite and cliche I sounded. Like some self righteous idiot suggesting something like, "Just stop sinning," to a career criminal. But something in me told me to keep going. I'm pretty sure it wasn't me - it was God giving me the thoughts.

I said, look, I picked a guy. I picked this guy and said, "Ok God, please make this the right guy. Make him The One!" And God looked skeptical and started to explain something. But I just shushed him and said, "God...I said make THIS guy the one for me. Make him the perfect husband for me." Like, this is the one I want, God. Work it out, will yah? I tell this much better in person because there are hand gestures and certain phrases that don't translate into type. But the reality is, for years, I asked God to make future ex The One. And God kept trying to tell me something - probably trying to tell me that he wasn't The One and maybe why. But each time, I'd hold up my hand and go on pining and waiting.

Eventually, I got tired of waiting for God to make future ex The One. So I took matters into my own hands. I asked him to marry me. And since no one better was around, and I was nice and had a good job and seemed pretty ok, he said sure, why not. Everyone we knew was thrilled. Including me. But in the back of my mind, I knew I had settled on the one point I said I never would. I married a non-Christian. Not that marrying a Christian guarantees anything. But it gives you a better common starting point. You'd hope. But that's a whole other post.

When I got married, I see a certain image in my head. I see God going *sigh* and throwing up his hands a little. Like, I tried to tell her! But God being the wonderful loving father (read: dad) that he is, he saw that I took my marriage vows and whole marriage very seriously. He saw that I really wanted to make this work. And I think he honored it. I imagine him going, "Ok I'll bless this union because you love me and are taking this seriously. But I can't make any promises for this guy. I mean, he's got free will and all that." He gave us a lot of fun happy years. And he blessed us with two gorgeous, perfect boys.

Well, the current situation speaks for itself. I married a man *I* chose. And not blindly. I'm not kidding when I tell you that I begged God to make him The One. I knew he wasn't what I should have waited for. But I got scared. I was 30. How would I be able to start from scratch and find a new one. Notice how I was wondering how I'D do all that?

So I told my beautiful special friend, "Don't pick the right guy. Ask God to pick him for you. And then trust that God will pick someone way better than you could. He knows what you want. But more - he knows what you need. He'll bring him. Just ask him."

It's not the kind of conversation I would normally have. But I'll tell you, this little wake up call I call Divorce? The hard lessons I'm learning shouldn't remain locked up in some dank corner of my mind. And do you know what is illustrating the lesson I just talked about here? Trish's new book. And I'm not saying that just to plug Trish's book. I'm saying that because I'm reading it and thinking - oh for the love of Pete! She's lived it, too! Just like me. Just like every woman out there. But she writes about it very well. And makes me laugh at the same time. Her book illustrates how things go when WE do the picking. And how things go when we ask GOD to do the picking.

Don't pick the right guy. Ask God to pick him for you.

I Got Trish. In Hahd Covah!

To use the Boston vernacular: WIKKID YAH!

Pokemon Boy - in his wisdom - wanted to go to Barnes & Nobles today. He wanted to get some Pokemon books. Imagine that. So off we went. I love letting them pick books. It's like taking a kid to a vegetable stand and saying, "I'll buy you anything you want, kid."

Pokemon Boy's first selection was The Essential Calvin & Hobbes. Only after reading a bunch of that did he remember he cared about Pokemon. So there's hope yet! He and Lil' Bro each picked a Pokemon book. Lil' Bro also picked out a board book about fish. And I picked him a collection of puppy stories.

As we were heading to the cash register, suddenly it dawned on me. This is APRIL! Trish's book should be IN STORES!!! I did an abrupt about face and, to the boys' dismay, headed to the Book Dude Behind The Kiosk. Book Dude looked up the book for me. Ryan...Trish. "Ah," he says. "It's over in Christian and Inspirational." Appropriate, thinks me. As I know it is both.

I'm giddy with dorkiness as he takes me over there. We pass a huge man pondering bibles and there they are. Tons of them. Christian books. Inspirational books. But I was looking for the one book that was both! He stood in front of all the books with author's names starting in the beginning of the alphabet. Me: "They're sorted by author?" (He nods) Me again: "Alphabetically, right?" (He nods and keeps looking) I start moving a bit to my right. I may have dropped out of college but I'm pretty sure R comes after the J's and M's. He sees me move my gaze and asks, "What was the author's name again?" I'm thinking, "Don't you KNOW WHO I'M LOOKING FOR? She's funny. She's cute. She has an impossibly wonderful husband and an even more impossibly blended breed dog. She can't boil water but she can testify with humor, grace and humility!!! Come ON man! It's Trish RYAN!!" But all I say is, "Ryan," to which he grunts and moves over to search with me.

And there it is. In the R's. Just where this college drop out would have filed her. And I was right. Her book was Christian AND inspirational. And it had the most butt-kickin' cover in the entire section. Honestly. For someone like me who pretty much sticks to just one genre of book? If I was walking by a table laden with earnest and lovely book covers, this one would make me stop and look again. And I have to say this one would also make me pick it up. And unless it promises to have tales of King Arthur or Robin Hood, that's not my usual mode of operation. So yah, you got the lemming's attention. Tell whoever put that cover together, "Good job, yo." (I'm so street)

At the checkout counter, I was giddy with the thrill that can only come by buying a friend's book in a national book store chain. Especially since there was more than one copy hidden in the back or holding up the rickety table in the employee break room. No. This was an honest to goodness, real BOOK. And my friend wrote it. I wanted to tell the checkout clerk. But, while I could guarantee you that he and I would have bonded over our shared love of all things myth, fantasy and science fiction, I doubt he would have been at all interested in the fact that I was so incredibly thrilled with this one particular purchase. So I shut up. And commented on how I liked his name. And, this being Texas, we struck up a conversation in which I learned he had trouble pronouncing his own name due to the unique shape of his jaw. I love Texas.

In the car, the boys busied themselves with their new books. So I turned on the A.C. and pulled out Trish. Oh yah. I got Trish! In hard cover! Or, as they'd say in Boston, in hahd covah. Wikkid yah. I wanted to read the whole thing right there. But, as it was approaching dinner time, I doubted my boys would sit there for that many hours. Those darn kids and their need to eat! So I tried to call Trish. But being a true celebrity author, she ignored my call. Which is probably good. Because she was probably doing something important and didn't need to hear me squealing my geekish glee over the phone. So I did the next best thing. I called Jane and left her a message about how I just got Trish's book and isn't that just the bomb and I'm a dork and I love you and bye. Then, I took a picture of her book on my car seat and sent it to Trish's phone. Because I'm a dork. Have I mentioned that?

And I have to show you the receipt. This is very blurry because it was taken on my cell phone. But Trish, did you know that the title of your book, when abbreviated on a receipt is "He Loves me, He Loves Me"? Coincidence? I think not. I've met the hubby. He really DOES love her.

Well, this evening at my parents' house, I'm pretty sure I was officially rude. We were all sitting around talking after dinner. I picked up the book and started reading it. I hadn't meant to. I was just going to glance at the first chapter. Then, about 10 pages in, I realized I was totally ignoring my parents, my Big Sis, her Tall Hubby, my aunt visiting from New Mexico and - worst of all - my nephew, the adorable dog Sid! Why did Trish have to be so entertaining and engaging in the first page! I mean, her opening disclaimer was the clincher. I made my parents and sister and aunt all read the book jacket and the disclaimer saying, "If you read her disclaimer, you'll get a feel for her humor." They did. They all think she's cute, clever, pretty, sweet...I can't remember all of the other sweet sickly adjectives they used.

I do have to protest that there were no chapters entitled, "How Lynette rocked 2005 for me" or anything of that ilk. A bit disappointing. But I'll still give it a chance.

So I just had to come gush to people who I knew would pretend to care. And also so Trish would see that I purchased her book. Now her people can see one tiny little dot on the sales map way down here in the friendly state. I plan to buy more copies and hand them out to all of my friends and family down here. You will have your own Texas chapter of the 'Trish Rocks' fan club. I am the president. Sorry. I called it first. Make your own chapter.

I'm off to read.

More Proof That God's Gotchyer Back

Yes, as a fallible human, I love when God comes through in really cool tangible ways. I'll give you a couple of recent things that you skeptics can chalk up to luck and good timing. But I know different.

If you recall, back in February, I had a lovely little lesson in why you should always call to cancel a ticket. That set me back quite a bit of cash. I freaked for a short bit and then gave it over to God. Or tried. In my prayer to him, I was specific. I just said, ok, I screwed up here. Please find the money from somewhere to pay this ticket and all of my other obligations. Just somehow make my money go farther.

I think I blogged about how I was astounded to not only pay all my bills but to have some left over. Then God rocked the whole bonus-I-didn't-think-I'd-get thing. That took care of summer camp for Pokemon Boy, some lawyer payments, some credit card debt and padding my savings. Oh yah - and I got to give a big huge chunk to my church! That was so fun.

Then I did my taxes. I'm married filing separately. If you've done that, you know you get nailed. But I happily found out I qualify for head of household. Which gives me a better tax standing than filing separately. And I actually got money BACK! Over $1000! I was just dumb founded. So I socked more away into savings. And wrote another check to my church.

Now let me just comment on why giving actual money to my church thrills me so much. When I found them in 2005, I was new to the area. New to having a huge mortgage and various house costs and bills. I had just bought all the start up furniture and large equipment you need to maintain a house and yard. I had no money. Plus, the hubby wasn't too keen on throwing money away (ie - giving it to a church). So I tossed a bit of cash in here or there. Not much. In talking to my pastor about my feeling crummy about not giving what I wanted, he told me there are other ways to tithe. Like giving your time to the church. Which I was already doing - food service, worship team and teaching. I was like, YAY! That's awesome. And felt much better.

But it always gnawed at me that I wanted to give money to the church. And that I was financially able to but didn't feel comfortable going against the hubby's sentiments. So I told God, ok, I'm going to start donating the food for food service to the church. It will be part of my tithe. It will be small. So please accept it and help me to increase it. Over the weeks, the food service increased from small $20-$30 amounts. Hubby wasn't thrilled. Well, after hubby became "future ex", and after I was done wallowing in the pits of depression, I remember coming to a realization one day: I am solely in control of all of my finances! I can give whatever I want to God!

Yah, well, hold on cowgirl. I was also a newly single mom. I was suddenly paying for child care and lawn care and thought more expenses were coming. I was terrified I was going to lose my house and who knows what. I was freaking out. But I said, ok God, I'm going to keep doing the food service. I just need you to figure it all out and help me be able to do it. At that point, I stopped paying attention to the food service grocery bill. I'd just tell them to ring it up and I'd pay for it with my own groceries and didn't freak. As I started putting the receipt in the collection plate with the food service sub-total circled...I noticed that - little by little - it was getting bigger. And somehow, I was still paying all of my obligations. I started giving a monthly support amount to KLOVE, too. Which was something that made former hubby scowl. So that also makes me happy - that I can do it freely now.

So I've been tithing but not with an actual percentage. And not with checks or cash. So to be able to actually get these windfalls and write checks for 10% or more? That totally ROCKS my socks! Yes. I'm a dork. But it thrills me.

That's where God has been growing my tithing experience. Any time I get tight or scared financially, I give it over to God. I ask him to help the money show up and help me make it. And he does.

Now here are the most recent examples:

I have a wonderful friend who owns a house up in Boston. Their bathroom (the only one) fell apart the other day. They were told they'd have to strip it down to the studs and redo it all. To the tune of like $15K. So here are two wonderful people with a little boy who now have to somehow come up with $15K. They had been working hard at sending extra into their mortgage payments to build up equity. She was trying to cut back on work hours to spend more time with her cute kid. It all looked like it was about to blow up in her face. So we were IMing about this and I said, ok, let's ask God to handle this. He'll fix your bathroom without derailing your plans. I mean, God knows what you're trying to do and I'm sure he's on your side to raise your son yourself! So right there, I asked God to somehow find them the money. And in a way that would be so very obviously from him. I IM'd her that I had prayed for her and like a minute later she types, Oh my goodness! Just got off the phone with hubby. The contractor just gave us a new estimate that is $5K less than the last time!!!! Coincidence? Luck? I think NOT. We were both blown away. I believe her exact words were "God is freaking me out!" I love it!

Then last night I paid my bills for mid month. And the checking account got very slim. Ouch. I didn't want to touch the savings I've been working to pad. That is still earmarked for summer camp and other things. Not to mention, I'd like a padding in case I'm laid off, etc. But I moved a couple hundred from savings over to checking and wasn't too happy about it. But oh well.

This morning, I get a letter from my mortgage bank. I opened it and tossed it in a "to be filed" pile. But later, I looked at it because it was an escrow breakdown and I wanted to see if I needed to pad my escrow. Then I notice a note in small print saying "These calculations indicate the projected escrow balance will be more than the allowable low point. The resulting surplus is attached." Yah, at the bottom is a check for over $500!!! AND...get this...the minimum monthly payment amount went down by about $50.

I'm telling you, pray specifically. Pray big. Pray believing God cares about the little things as well as the big things. Don't let guilt stop you from asking him for help. I could write a whole BOOK on how he has taken care of the little things all through 2007 and still this year.

Yup. More proof that God's gotchyer back.

Tics and Stuff

I've been meaning to post about this for a while. What with the title of my blog being Tourette's Mom and all.

Pokemon Boy - if you recall - has Tourette's. Mild. Blessedly mild. Thank you God! I'm still not worried about it. I suppose I could be since he's approaching 8 and most kids are diagnosed around 8 or 9 because that's when it progresses to a severe enough point for people to stop writing it off as just twitchy kids or something. But I'm not. God's got it. And God's given us a great medical/therapy team.

Anyway.

Lately, Pokemon Boy has been very tic-y. Still mild. A fact that was driven home hugely this weekend when we were in a local sandwich shop with a kid that looked to be about 13 and had very severe TS. But though Pokemon Boy's tics are all mild, they are many. Usually he has one or two. I will probably not be able to remember all of them right now as he's not right here with me. But here's an attempt at a list of currently active tics:

1) A new eye thing. This is like if you scowl every so slightly and then very slowly let your eyes drift upward and then to being crossed. Does that make sense? I can't even do it if I try. I can't get my eyes to "drift" into being crossed. But I've watched him do it and then they pop right back to normal. I'm not even sure if he knows he's doing it.

2) A new noise. I was just trying to do it to describe it to you and I can't get it quite right. It's another tongue clucking thing. It's usually quite a few in succession. And it's on and off for quite a long time. I think he does it with his mouth closed sometimes, too.

3) Stammering. This is an extremely eloquent kid. Has been since before he walked. But lately, he's stammering almost as if trying to talk under duress. I keep saying, "Slow down and just let it come out." He usually can but rarely without repeating a few phrases in each sentence.

4) Touching. I've noticed a few things where he touches his own hands or feet here or there. I can't tell if it's really a tic or allergy related or what. But it's repetitive enough to make me think it's a tic.

5) Restlessness. He's very antsy. It's the stuff I usually see when he's unsure of his surroundings or if we visit a new doctor or something. The first time his psychiatrist met him, she said his initial can't-sit-still-ness made her think ADHD. But she dismissed that idea very quickly. But I notice he's up, he's down, he's pacing, he's moving, he's all over the place.

That's the stuff I can think of. I think there are a few more verbal tics I've heard recently but I can't recall what.

I've also noticed that all of this is coinciding with the news that his dad is leaving soon. I have no idea if that's really what's going on or what. But I can tell his mind is going a mile a minute. The other night, after a particularly bad day on my part, he was telling me he was sorry for my aggravation during the day. I said, oh honey, you don't have to be sorry because I was in a crappy mood. But he said he just felt bad that I had felt aggravated (he used that word). I thanked him. He left the room and came back to tell me that he liked spending time with me. He told me that daddy gets more aggravated with them more often than I do. It was said with a lot of tenderness and sadness. But obviously, the man is very much on his mind.

Today, we were all home. We had a very sleepless night due to allergies and both boys having nightmares or night terrors. When I woke up at 6:15am, I tried to wake Pokemon Boy. Nigh impossible. And I felt like I had been run over with a hippo. So I decided to let us all sleep in and take him in late to school.

Being the wonderfully irresponsible lazy mother that I am, I let them both stay home from school and I canned work. We all looked like we were hung over. I still feel like it. They recovered somewhat, after staying indoors away from allergens all day.

Well, after lunch, I told the boys I was running to the mailbox. We have community mailboxes in each 'hood. Mine is right around the corner, within earshot but not eye shot of the house. Both boys were mired in their respective activity and heard me announce my departure. Well, at the mailbox, my next door neighbor pulled up and we got to talking (us two divorcees). I was probably out there like 5 or 10 minutes. Suddenly, we heard the weirdest sound. It was either an animal in distress or some sort of weird guttural cry. I knew instantly who it was. I ran around the corner and found both boys in the front yard. Pokemon Boy was crying and on the verge of panic. Lil' Bro seemed totally ok but he was clearly freaked out that his big brother was upset. I ran over and started comforting him. He hadn't known where I was. "But I told you I was going to the mailbox." Yes, but I didn't come right back so he didn't know where I was. It totally broke my heart.

So I vowed to him that, if I step out for some quick little neighborhood errand, I will do it and return immediately. I will only stop to talk within eye shot of the house. Better yet, maybe ask them to walk to my yard.

Over the last few days, if I get annoyed or frustrated, both boys are lightening quick to offer apologies. Even if they aren't the cause of my annoyance. It's really sad to hear. I don't really understand how to undo that. They are carrying some fear here. Tonight, Lil' Bro wouldn't stand still for pajama time. I snapped at him (but not horribly) and he reacted as if I had just screamed at him. I said, "Honey, I just want you to stand still. I'm not yelling." His reply flabbergasted me. "I just don't ever want you to kill me." Um...what? What in the WORLD?!

All I can think is, the security of their world has been frayed. And some very serious fraying is happening right now. That's all I can think. I stopped both boys, made them sit and look at me. I said, "Let me tell you a few things that will NEVER happen: One: I will NEVER stop loving you. Ever. It's not possible. Two: I will never hurt you or kill you. It's not possible. It will NEVER happen. Do you understand?" Lil' Bro then said, "And free?" "And three: I will ALWAYS love you," at which time Lil' Bro threw his arms around my neck and hugged me. And to which Pokemon Boy replied, "Um mom, you said you were going to name things that will never happen!" *sigh* I can't win!

I'll leave you with some cute pix. Last night, Pokemon Boy was showering in my shower and Lil' Bro was bathing in my big garden tub. I took a bunch of silly pictures but promised Pokemon Boy that no nudies would be shared with the public. But I think he'd approve of these three shots.

Lil' Bro and the obligatory Bath Time Mohawk

Classic Pokemon Boy

Classic (Dorky) Me

Slow Down There, Yenta!

One of the perils of being in the midst of a divorce and having lots of people who love you is, inevitably, someone (or multiple someones) will start eyeing potential matches for you. This is only natural. I am sure I have been as guilty as most.

But lets look at a few facts here folks.

A) I am not legally divorced. Rather important, this.
B) I am in no way desiring another relationship in this century. I'm sure this will change. I am assured by all concerned (and most not concerned) that this will change. Great. But for now? I don't want to have to think that hard.

That's pretty much all I have at the moment. But if you look at both of those, yah, they're rather strong arguments for everyone backing OFF this whole Yenta-matchmaking thing. Or for you Jane Austen lovers, stop being Emma - or whoever the big matchmaker is of her writings.

Now all of that is said with great affection and quite a lot of humor. Oh, I'm serious enough about the sentiments. But I do laugh when I say it. And here are the two most recent stories that explain why:

Story #1: My Dad -
Mom told me this story while we were driving back home from some fast food joint. I was in the way-back of their family van.

Mom & dad needed a water softener dude to come check their water softener. He did his thing and they all got to talking. He was about my age, according to my mom. So they're chatting and suddenly dad says something to the effect of, "Well, we have a daughter that's going through a divorce and we're looking for a husband for her." My mom said her head snapped to and she was like, "WHAH???!" But rather than suddenly remembering a roast in the oven and running in fear, the guy got all serious and looked rather thoughtful for a moment. After which he said, "Well, I do have this one friend. He's 52," to which my mother quickly replied, "That's too old!" Ha! Good ol' mom. The guy assured her that he's a "young 52" and works out at the gym a lot. Yah, that's what I want. Some guy who likes going to the gym. Because I'm sure he'll totally be into a 42 yr old house-frau that works from home and gets about 30 minutes a year of good aerobic exercise. I'd have better luck with the Michelin Tire Man. And I could share his clothes.

Anyway, mom needed to get priorities straight. She told him that her daughter's number one criteria for a man is that he is a very Godly man. The guy said, "Well, he's gone to church with us a few times but I don't think you'd call him 'Godly'."

I told dad that if he gets ideas like that again to just give the potential guy the business card of my church. If he's serious, he can start attending my church.

Good gravy!

Story #2: Well Intentioned Small Group Friend -
Last Tuesday, I was relating the above story to my small group. We were all having the appropriate roar of laughter because everyone there knows my dad. And if you know him and can picture him saying all of that, it's just that much more of a hoot! So we're all laughing and one of my small group friends (and co-worship band member) says, "Well, I've actually had someone in mind for you for a while. But I figure you need more time." I nearly fell over laughing. I told him to give me at least a decade.

Honestly!

So apparently, everyone but me is looking around for potential partners for me. Good grief. I'm not even done shedding the first monkey from my back. You really want to saddle me with another?

It's all very sweet and funny to me. I'm sure my desire for a life of being single will start to fade eventually. But seriously folks, let me get the legalities of the first debacle behind me before I start planning another.

Wouldn't it be a hoot, though? I mean if that's how God finds my next man? One of these wacky friends or family members doing one of these crazy things? It wouldn't surprise me in the least. And it sure would be fitting.

But for now, I'm enjoying working on just me and God.

So back off, Yenta.

Is There a 12 Step Program For Sudoku?

Hello. My name is L.y.n.e.t.t.e. And I'm a Sudoku addict. I have a problem. Or do I? I love sudoku. And when I say "love," I mean like, if sudoku were a God-loving Christian man, I'd totally marry it.

I had seen it for years and thought it was a trendy thing people did to make themselves look smart. I thought it was all math and stuff. Which means I should love it. But being the nonconformist that I am (read "lemming"), I shunned sudoku. I later found out it has nothing to do with math. It's all patterns and sequences. You can replace the 1 through 9 with A through whatever the 9th letter of the alphabet is. Either way, I thought I was too cool to be caught up in such a silly trend. Oh the arrogance of youth. Or the arrogance of...well...last year some time.

Anyhoo...

I don't really remember how it started. I think I was just bored. I tried just a little one. A 4x4 puzzle. I mean, I just wanted to see what it was like. Who knew that would be my gateway puzzle! Pretty soon, the 4x4 wasn't enough. I needed more! Next thing I knew, I was doing simple 9x9's. Sure I started with the easy ones. Beginner level. I could quit any time I wanted. I just didn't want to. I'd look for them in news papers. I started picking up magazines I never read just to see if they had a sudoku in the back. I was hooked. Finally I just accepted my addiction. I went to Barnes & Noble. The big one down by Lowes and PetSmart. They had a whole subsection in the games section. I mean, come on! What was I supposed to do?! Yah. I bought one. But not just one of those piddly ones on that cheap not-quite-newspaper print paper. No. I got the mammoth colossal one. With 300 puzzles in it.

I put the date on them when I complete them. And I put things like "Yikes!" or "Ouch!" if I messed up and had to resort to the solution in the back. I've been a hard core sudoku junkie now since September 2007. And I won't apologize! [insert maniacal laughter with Norma Desmond facial expressions here]

But I think I need help now. Tonight, I Google'd "free online sudoku". I know. It's a sickness. I found my fix. But the thing about the online games? You can't keep your little notes on what might go in which square! You can't write in pencil and erase it from your monitor screen. Trust me. I tried. So you have to really think hard. And they time you. Those sick twisted people! But I finally completed one with no errors and they told me 96% of everyone else who tried this level was better than me. Oh yes, they taunt me, those dealers of free online sudoku! They mock me and draw me into their web of evil. The black hole of free time. Time that could have been spent...oh...cleaning my house before my two aunts show up tomorrow.

Evil evil sequential pattern game makers!

I blame society.

It Came Without Warning

*The following post will have strange punctuation interspersed in certain words to avoid getting sicko hits from search engines. Enjoy my attempt at subterfuge.*

Dude. Seriously. I think they should schedule time for The Talk. Like, as soon as the kid is born, you get a schedule. It has things like, "Will walk for first time," and "Will utter first intelligible word," so you can plan and be ready for some of the bigger ones. But you know, like around the age of...oh...10 or 12 or 47, you can schedule The Talk. So you can plan for it. So you can have some rehearsed sound bites that don't include, "Well...uh...um...I uh...heh heh..." like some giggling 8th grader telling his little brother The Facts.

I don't even know how it happened. I didn't even see it coming. I'm sitting here wondering how it even came about. I can't remember the sequence of conversation that precipitated The Talk. But I was sitting here at the computer, having just gone to the website of my son's future school. Lil' Bro was on the guest bed in my office, being a ghost under the blue floral sheets. And next to the Blue Floral Ghost was Pokemon Boy, hanging over the edge of the bed, upside down, feet in the air, chatting away. I believe the boys were discussing the possibilities of Lil' Bro marrying Pokemon Boy's future principal, having seen her picture on the website and uttering "Ooooohhhh...priddy!"

Oh wait...now it's all coming back. So Lil' Bro starts saying how he's going to marry Pokemon Boy's future principal. Pokemon Boy wisely points out the disparate age difference. Lil' Bro is undeterred. Pokemon Boy says, "Besides, she has a husband." "She does?" I ask. "Well, she has a job. Everyone who has a job is married." Very interesting information, this. Apparently, as soon as my divorce is finalized, I will lose my job. They continue on with their debate. I'm pretty sure that Lil' Bro is still pretty set on marrying the future principal. Because, according to his four year old logic, he will be RICH. I didn't turn to look, but the way that he said "rich" makes me think he was rubbing his hands together and making a very "mwah ha ha ha" face. Pokemon Boy said, "You'll be rich?" Lil' Bro explained, "Well, if I marry her, I will get money from her and I will be rich!" [I am thinking that my future ex had a very similar conversation with some of his friends way back in 1996. But I digress.]

But in pointing out that not all working people have to be married, somehow that got Pokemon Boy on the subject of, "Well, you have to be married to have kids." Yes, well, you'd like to think so. And being the oh so open and honest mom that I am, I opened this topic for further discussion. Because I'm also oh so stupid. Did I mention that? So I explained that not all people that have kids are married. I told him that, ideally, yes, it's best to be married when you have kids because raising kids is really a job that takes two people to help each other. That point was lost on Pokemon Boy who was already fixated on the first part of my statement. "But wait," asks he. "Don't you need an e.g.g from the woman and a s.p.e.r.m from the man?" True. But you don't have to be married to have that happen. "So you can use a stranger's s.p.e.r.m?" This is the point at which I realized I had unwittingly entered into The Talk. There was no backing out now. And all points of travel from here on in lead to just one thing: the robot from Lost In Space flailing all limbs and yelling, "Danger! Danger Will Robinson!!"

I go on to explain how some people don't always get married but live together. And being the morally upright idiot that I am, I very lamely attempt to throw in my bit about how that's not ideal and is fraught with risk but he wasn't even listening. His mind was still churning on the whole e.g.g and s.p.e.r.m issue. I think he was ok with accepting that unmarried couples might procreate. But...

"So how does the s.p.e.r.m get together with the e.g.g anyway?"

[Insert frozen smile combined with deer in the headlights look here]

My tact with delicate subjects and my boys has always been to present it as fact. Or more as matter of fact. Don't treat it as taboo. Don't treat it as dirty. Just explain things as if I was explaining dinosaurs or how to split the atom or something. And that works when they're asking simple questions like "Where does the baby grow?" that you can answer with very vague words like "womb" or "baby growing sack" or something. You toss a benign sounding word at them and they're bored and moving on to spread even more Pokemon cards around the house because they just realized there was still a spot of carpet visible to the naked eye.

But I knew I was about to try to totally vague and benign my way through a very delicate subject. I was going to try to describe The Act with words such as may be found in a two year old's board book. Yah. Good luck with that. Let me know how that works out for you, will you?

I won't put the whole conversation here because the punctuation to keep perverts from getting here would make it unreadable. But I described the act very blandly, trying to keep my poker face steady. But Pokemon Boy has - as he tells it - a super ectoplasmic mind. Which he uses to convey "I'm wikkid smart." So he asked all the questions you'd expect someone to ask. I mean, if you try to tell an electrical engineer that you built a robot out of some metal and wires, you think they'll settle for that? Exactly.

So while Blue Floral Ghost entertained himself by getting more and more entwined in the guest bed sheets, I had this monumental conversation with Pokemon Boy. It was so hard not to laugh. It was just so completely out of a sit-com.

I shudder to think of the counseling my boys will need when I'm done raising them.

Dude. Seriously. It came without warning.

I Am Dork: Hear Me Roar

Today was nothing to blog home about. Meetings from 9am to 6pm. A working lunch. Bio-breaks (ie - let's all go loose our bladders) were given out grudgingly. A great group of people to work with. But even great groups of people can be too much when you saddle them with terms like "work session" and other pithy corporate catch phrases.

I took pictures of a bunch of them. But figured I didn't get any kind of release forms signed allowing me to shoot their images across the ether. So you will just have to use your imagination to picture Classy Leader Lady, Funny Facilitator Guy, Wikkid Smart Guy #1 and Wikkid Smart Guy #2, Quiet Smart Girl On Crutches, Funny Lady With Attitude and, yours truly: Comic Relief At End Of Table Girl.

Although, you don't have to use your imagination for me. Here are some shots to keep you happy. Because I can hear you all clamoring for more pictures of ME!!!

An April Fool in Boston

The eagle has landed. I got into Boston almost 2 hrs after my original arrival time. No worries. Delays in beautiful Cincinnati. Nice airport, that.

I'm fighting off a cold so I'm not visiting my pregnant friend or Kristen and her family as originally planned. Don't need to share that kind of love.

Here are some shots from my hotel. I love the Radisson. Every single room has a balcony. First thing I did was go onto mine. Love it. Here are three shots from my 12th floor room. [I can't