Number 952 In A Series of Why God Rocks

So my last post was written on a day when I felt like my skin would pretty much just crawl off my body. I don't know if any of you have ever experienced profound depression (or ANY depression) and/or anxiety. I thought I had. You know, when you're 17 and the boy you like is totally in love with someone way more gorgeous and sparkly than you? Oh yes, I thought I had felt depression. I never really felt like I experienced anxiety, though.

I'll confess: before last year, I had thought that most people that said they were depressed or had anxiety attacks were either drama queens/kings or they were just plain weak and didn't feel like coping. And I deeply apologize to anyone out there that feels like traveling back in time and slapping that me. That me should have been slapped. That me DID get slapped. Trust me. God took care of it for you.

Last year, I understood profound depression and anxiety. Actually, depression I had experienced when my father died 10 days before my 12th birthday. But I didn't fully experience it because my 12 yr old self just squashed it away until I could process the loss and grieve when I was more like...oh...I think I was about 19?

Man, I am ALL over the place with this one.

Suffice to say - 2007 was my introduction to what depression and anxiety could do to you. Separately, they blow. Together, they blow chunks. But being in that arrogant state of mind I was in, I refused to even think of taking meds. Meds were for weak people. Meds were for all those people they showed on Zoloft commercials. At one point, when I was completely non functioning as a member of society, someone gave me a Xanex or something. I was completely blown away at how it settled me, allowed me to gather the scattered pieces in my mind, focus and function.

I went to my doc and tearfully explained my situation. She wondered why I had waited so many months. I explained my arrogance. I am sadly not unique.

So I got my meds. A big ol' bottle. I took them only for emergencies. I think I took about 3 last year. God was rockin' the Saving L.y.n.e.t.t.e thing pretty big time, if you all recall. I was pretty happy that I only needed the few doses.

Fast forward to a few months ago. I was finally out of the cess pool. I was finally seeing the light through the forest trees. I was near the edge of the forest. Relative to the beginning of the big ol' dumb divorce, I felt On Top Of The World. I remember gleefully tossing the remaining meds thinking, "I will never need these again!"

Fast forward again to a few weeks ago. I'm not quite sure what triggered it. I think it was a combination of things, events, weaknesses, stresses. I believe straws and weakened camel backs were involved. But here I was wrestling depression again. When the stresses kept hitting, the anxiety hit, too. Now, when you think you've finished with something really ugly and it shows up again, almost full force? You can get severely derailed. I denied it for a couple of weeks telling my friends I was going through a rough patch or valley and I'd be fine. Which is true. I know God's not going to let me crumble after all he dragged me through. But it wasn't really getting any better.

I was praying things like, ".....help....I don't even know what for. Just help!" I kept asking God to take the depression and anxiety away. I started reading my bible consistently - pouring through it hoping God would talk to me.

A few days ago, I felt like my skin was going to jump clear off my body again. I was so down, my mother could see it - feel it. I could tell she was worried. I finally admitted to her I was full on depressed and feeling like I was about to implode. I probably needed meds again. I went home to find said meds. Nada. Hmmm. I searched everywhere. Then I remembered tossing them. Hence the last post (which was thankfully much shorter than this rambling tome).

The next day, I got in to see the doc. She wrote me another scrip (two, actually). She told me, "Don't throw these away."

The funny thing was...after I made the doctor's appointment, I thought...good grief. It never even occurred to me to ask God to do what I was hoping the pills would do. I mean, not in those words. So I said, ok God. I need you to do what I want those pills to do. I need you to focus my brain - help me focus. Help me function at work and as a mom. Lift this depression, calm the panic. Please God - be my meds! I still saw the doc. I told God that I want to trust in him only. But I want to have those pills just in case - which is rather like saying I want to lose weight but I'll just make sure I have Lucky Charms in the pantry. But I digress. I asked God to be my guide with the meds. I asked him to let me know when or if to take them. But in the mean time, I would trust him. And all that bible reading? God started showing me stuff. Stuff like all the miracles in Acts & Romans. He started showing me how to increase my faith in Corinthians. I couldn't get enough. He just really started making things pop off the pages. I couldn't wait to read my bible every night. And if you know me? That ain't me.

Man, this all sounds so crazy when I see it in type. It's just not how I've operated. I don't reject all medicine or doctors. Modern medicine saved my life and Pokemon Boy's life. And the lives of quite a few wonderful people in my life. God gave scientists and doctors their gifts. So I'm totally pro-doctor. But I felt like, right now in my walk, I needed to give God a chance. I needed to put my trust in him in a big way.

So here I sit, about 4 days later and the CVS bags are still stapled shut on my bedroom table. I am asking God every day and night to be my equalizer. To keep me from the lows and the panic. I have felt much better for the last two days. Today has been the best one yet. And today I realized that I was still hanging on to the fear. What if I lose my house? What if I lose my job? What if I have to uproot my kids and move to an apartment? I was still clinging to the panic. Normal, yes. But I have to shake that. So today - once again - I have been trying to release it all to God's care. Trust that he's got it. Even if I lose my job and house - he's got my back. Honestly, why should I be freaking out like this? I mean ASIDE from being a normal human being.

That's where I am today. It's a process. I'm working on it. God's working on me. I'm in a 3 day seminar with most of my church this weekend. We are praying HUGE. I'm expecting some big stuff this weekend. I'll let you know.

Note To Self:

Don't throw out an almost full bottle of anti-anxiety meds when you're on an emotional high.

You big dolt.

Dear Blogger People With Your Profiles Set to Private,

I am a big fan of anonymity. I really am. But those of you that have set your Blogger profiles to private while insisting on leaving comments asking me to come try your product (not you, pest control dude), yah...I'm thinking anonymity is just cowardice. Those of you that leave me your email addresses in the comments, well, at least you have the cajones to let me contact you.

But here's my thing. I'm just a schmo doing a blog chat thing with my girls (and assorted guys). No, I don't want to do a free trial of your anti-tic stuff because your website won't tell me thing one about any ingredient without me first trying to order it. I'm good. Move on.

Here's a good rule of thumb: leave me heart felt comments like the rest of my friends here. See how that works? Don't leave me adverts. I just delete them. And get annoyed. And that's no fun.


Sincerely,

Tourette's Mom

Another Addition to My ABC Art Collection!

Last year, when future ex came to get His Things, it left a telling series of gaps in my house. Most notably were those on the walls. My sister likes to point out how this shows that our house was decorated to suit him. Now I had the freedom to decorate to suit me and my boys. And by "me and my boys", I mean me. Because, let's face it, I highly doubt I'll be putting up much Pokemon decor.

When I lamented the myriad blank spaces on my walls, Wanda was the first to offer artistic filling. She sent me a print of her Girl in White Dress painting. I finally framed it a couple of weeks ago and she is hanging in my living room. When I get a functional camera, I will share her glory with you.

A few months ago, one of my other ABCs (Awesome Blogger Chicks) posted a picture post about things she found beautiful. I fell in love with a cow picture she had and asked her how much she'd charge for the digital image. Being that she's one of the Awesome, she just gave it to me. Because, like Wanda, Allie rocks.

Today, I just got my 11x14 print of her cow picture in the mail - I ordered it through Shutterfly. And I have to tell you, I was not hopeful that I would get a good quality print for such a tiny amount of money. I was happily proven wrong. They gave me a wonderful quality print. So now I can't WAIT to take it to the framer's.

Between all you amazing chicks here on my blog and that wonderful little Swedish shop I adore so much, I'm filling up the gaps on my walls.

Gotta Love Them Fire Ants

I have a renewed regimen of walking. I've gained about 15 of my 25 divorce diet pounds back. Poo. I knew it would happen but I hate feeling this unhealthy. With the stress of work and the general yick that still hangs on with the whole divorce thing, being overweight ain't helpin' things much.

So last Thursday night, I took the boys walking in the wagon. Nothing better than walking with weights. So towing a 4 and 7 yr old must be good, right? And cheaper than buying those hand weights. And cuter.

Friday, I walked to their school with the wagon to pick them up. Lil' Bro was thrilled and all his classmates were impressed. Pokemon Boy was a bit apprehensive. I'm sure he was wondering what people would think. Let 'em think what they want. When I'm skinny and healthy, I'll be the one still laughing.

So tonight, we wagon'd out to the swings. A short walk for my taste but I have to keep my free walking weights happy. As I stood behind the boys pushing them (great arm workouts, by the way), I felt a bite. Yah. Some fire ant had decided to investigate my foot. As it got under the strap of my sandals, it didn't like getting squished and bit its disapproval. So I packed up the boys and we headed for the little tot lot near our house. I stuck to the sidewalks because it was watering time. I didn't want to get caught lugging a wagon over the grass as some sprinkler decided to start. The boys took a short cut up a hill. I was walking along looking at their cute figures standing on top of the hill, back lit with the setting son. I thought to myself, this is why we moved down here. Good stuff.

As I rounded the corner, both boys came barreling down the hill toward me, each claiming to have won the race. Suddenly, Pokemon Boy started hollering about ants being all over his legs. He had stood in one place the longest - probably right on top of a nest. Lil' Bro, being 4, had kept moving. I dropped the wagon handle and ran over to find little red beasties all over his sneakers socks and lower legs. ARGH! Have you ever tried to get those things off a kid? You have to just start brushing at them. And that pisses them off. I was brushing and slapping while he was freaking out and trying to hop away. I'm sure we entertained a few people from their windows.

It's one of those mommy moments where you suck it up, accept that you have to take some pain and just save your kid. I had to get him to stop hopping around, I had to undo his shoes and peel off his socks. And with each step of this process, I had to keep shoving him forward away from the little pile of ants we had just dumped on the sidewalk. Finally, I got his feat stripped of socks, shoes and ants. He has a bunch of welts in a little line around each leg starting just above the sock line. Poor thing. Amazingly, I didn't get bit on my hands during that whole thing.

I piled the socks & shoes in the wagon and made the boys head home. They went inside while I used a small hand broom to clean the remaining ants off of his socks, shoes and from in the wagon. Those are tenacious little buggers. I stomped every single one. Bite MY kid, will yah?!

So that was our big adventure tonight. I'd rather take those ants on than a bunch of wasps or bees. But Pokemon Boy will probably have some nasty scars from some of those welts. Although, he says they don't hurt all that bad. The few times I've been bitten, it burned like crazy and I got huge welts that lasted for weeks and then scarred. There went my foot modeling career!

Mmmmm....anty....

Oh...and the ones all over Pokemon Boy were probably like the ones at about the 5:00 position on this picture. Small but still pack a mean punch.

Another Friday Night Date

Be jealous. Be very jealous.

Last night, I went to the movies with two of the arguably cutest boys on the planet. I took the boys to see Kung Fu Panda at the theatre that is spitting distance from our house.



It is SO fun to see a movie in the theatre with your kids. It's NOT so fun to see it in a theatre with someone ELSE's kids. Fortunately, God gave me the grace not to strangle said other kids and we enjoyed the movie.

I have to say, this movie totally rocks. Totally safe for all ages, in my opinion. And Jack Black freakin' ROCKS. I don't care if he's live or animated - that man can crack me UP! The movie was a blast and totally worth the total price of over $38 (tickets + candy + water). My dates were worth it.

My sensitive little Pokemon Boy had trouble with one sad scene. Not during the movie but out in the car, afterwards. He has that trouble with all movies that have a sad scene - if the scene is done well - to tug at your heart strings. So he got it cried out and then we went home to bed.

Next week, the boys are asking me to take them to the new Disney-Pixar movie WALL-E. It looks great but I hate seeing movies on opening weekend. I won't brave those kinds of crowds with two little kids. But I will take them because I have more fun seeing a movie with them than with most adults.

My dates ROCK.

Sand Table Therapy and Some Old Pix

Sand Table Therapy
Today Pokemon Boy went to his play therapist's. He's been asking to go since future ex moved back to Boston. Today we got him there. ML has a new toy in the arsenal. A sand table. Toward the end of his session, I got to play in the sand table.

I was called in and was told that Pokemon Boy had played out a scene where an ambulance was rushing to help someone. But that ambulance needed an ambulance. The conversation had turned to me being Pokemon Boy's ambulance. And then wondering who might be MY ambulance. Pokemon Boy told ML he figured he and his little brother were my ambulance. So I was brought in to play out that scenario. I was sitting there looking at ML like...um...where do you want me to go with this???? But I figured he just wanted me to show what I do for survival. So Pokemon Boy handed me my figurine (a svelte little blond doll in a white bride's dress....uh huh...). So Pokemon Boy's figure fell and hurt his foot. My tiny waisted alter ego rushed over to see if it was ok and dole out kisses. Then it was my turn. Pokemon Boy asked me what makes me sad. Loaded question. But rather than answer in a way that would require more in depth counseling for my kid (hahaha), I said, "Well, sometimes work is hard." So dainty bride doll moped around saying how hard work is. Dainty bride doll stopped and prayed asking God to give her motivation and help in focusing on work (which dainty bride doll actually did yesterday). Then ML handed dainty bride doll a dainty wee bible. So dainty bride doll informed the room that, once the kids are in bed, she likes to read the bible.

It was fun. I want a sand table. But I hate vacuuming. But I love sand. Quandary.

What I gleaned from our exercise was that Pokemon Boy needs to understand that saving mommy is not on his shoulders. And also to show that you can take any problem to God. But I think it was more to show him it's not up to him to save his dainty doll-like mother. Or maybe it really taught him that his mom needs to lose weight and get a wedding dress. I'm not sure what he got from it. But he seemed to enjoy it.

I was reading an old post where I mentioned that ML wanted to train me to do some at home therapy with Pokemon Boy. That hasn't happened. I just have not had the gumption yet. Sounds weak. But I'd rather admit my current limits and not fail at something this important. But I work with ML on Pokemon Boy's therapy. Later this week, I will talk to ML about how/if we should start Lil' Bro in any kind of counseling. He begs to see ML. But he really just wants to play with toys. I think Pokemon Boy can discuss the play with ML enough to be productive. I have visions of Lil' Bro running around with all the toy swords and guns totally ignoring any conversation from ML. But we'll see what he suggests.

Some Old Pix
These are two pix I just pulled out of an old envelope. These are my parents. The ones who adopted me. I think both of these pictures were from when they were in high school. So maybe 1950? Not sure. I'll have to ask mom. But I love these pictures. Dad was all ears. Mom's picture says, "To a very wonderful boy" on it. I love it.

Sam Dad


Rose Mom

Father's Day

I never posted about Mother's Day. I think we were still rotating illnesses at that point. Our Mother's Day dinner at my house was postponed about 2 weeks, I think. But needless to say, my boys made my day awesome. I had multiple home made cards from Pokemon Boy. I received two ceramic tiles, one painted by each boy. They made these at church. Totally adorable. I have them up on the mantle piece. So my Mother's Day rocked. And we spoiled my mom, too. I even got something for my BigSis because she's the mommy to the cutest dog and cat in the world.

Father's Day was a weird day for me. I started my day by asking God to remove the anger and keeping me from getting all pissy and grumpy. As usual, he came through in spades. I had a few people tell me Happy Father's Day - since I'm both parents most days. I liked that. But listening to the Father's Day spots on KLOVE got to me. They said stuff like, "Because he's the man who holds the whole family together..." I'm sure I wasn't the only one wanting to spit at my radio. But I know they are honoring all the good fathers out there. And it's good to know they are out there. So really, my eye rolling was just between me and God. A snide private joke of sorts.

The actual day was awesome. My church celebrated the baptism of 6 people. Five kids and one adult. That's pretty cool. And since we meet in an elementary school, we don't have our own baptismal. But what we DO have is rockin'! We have a horse trough! Yes. A real one. I don't think it's been used for anything other than baptisms. But I love it! A horse trough in Texas. What else would you use?

I taught the infants on Sunday. Which means I helped them put stickers on their Father's Day framed pictures. Which translates to me and the other two adults basically peeling stickers that were placed over the kids' faces and putting them somewhere else on the frame. Very cute to hand those out to the dads.

After church, we all went outside to the front of the school. The trough was filled and already warm (the triple degree weather was good for something). It was so cool to see these kids baptized by our pastor and their own dads. I was holding Lil' Bro and he kept going, "I don't WANNA do this!!" I think he thought we were all going to take our turn. So I told him he wouldn't do it unless he chose to. Pokemon Boy asked if anyone was going to die doing this - he doesn't put his head under water so I imagine this was rather unsettling for him. Afterwards, we all went inside for cake.

After church, we headed to BigSis's house. She and TallHubby had fixed steak & shrimp on the grill. Mmmmm! Mom had made a squash casserole and peach cobbler. Needless to say, I rolled home.

It was a good day. I had no funk. I had no grumpiness. I have a feeling that had to do with a lot of prayer coverage. From my mom and from my aunt Brenda. Probably a few others, to boot. Thanks to anyone who thought of me and sent up a prayer. It was heard!

I started this whole post with the intent of being brief (ha!) and just sharing the boys' pictures with you. These were the pictures taken the week before at church. Then the teachers had those foam frames that we decorated. Pokemon Boy's picture had everyone laughing. And Lil' Bro's shot is just adorable. Enjoy. And Happy Father's Day to all the dads who really do hold their families together. If you have one, take a moment to thank God.

Pokemon Boy


Lil' Bro

Still Kickin'

I realized I haven't posted since my "blah" post. I didn't want anyone to worry that I was in the throws of some major life valley. I'm not. I'm fine. I am wrestling with the blah a bit more. I think I am just in a time of dealing with some crap. But mostly work is crazy busy. And I am crazy unmotivated. This is the first time I've sat down at the computer for non work in I don't know how long.

So...boring post. Just to let you know I'm alive and ok. Mostly just really really really wanting to win a lottery or meet a gorgeous Christian guy who has no kids, no crazy ex and is financially stable enough to allow me to stop working a corporate job. I just do not want to work right now. But I'm smart enough to appreciate the fact that I have a good job. So I will ask God to kick my butt into gear.

This post blows. I'm outtie.

Not One Of My Stellar Days

I am having a day. I am having one of those days that come to mind every time someone tells me how amazed they are by my strength, grace or whatever. When they talk to me like the pillar of Single Motherhood and Gracious Divorce, this is the kind of day that immediately pops into my head.

I'm...I dunno. I'm just blah.

I'm exhausted. Probably emotionally more than physically. I seem to have some minor version of the GI bug that Lil' Bro has. He has also been sick off and on for the better part of almost 2 months now. It's just his immune system learning new tricks now that he's been in a real day care since January. With the undertow of stress that has seemed to keep its foot in my door since this whole divorce debacle began in January of 2007, I doubt my immune system has been up to par. So I usually share a lesser version of whatever ills the boys drag home. By itself, it's nothing really. There are so many things in this world that make this like the hangnail of life. And I get that. I know I'm ok in the big picture.

But today...it's wearing on me.

I'm also annoyed. Since my almost ex (tantalizingly close, that final date!) actually physically moved up to Boston, it has been a daily battle to be a God person. Pokemon Boy has requested that his dad call him every night. So either I see his number on my home phone or my cell phone. But every single night, I get to be reminded that, oh yah, my husband moved 2000 miles away to go live with some other chick. Isn't that lovely? Yessiree Bob. Gotta love that. Now, most days, it doesn't get to me. No. Check that. Most days it annoys the snot out of me. But it's the kind of annoyance that you feel for something external - not really directly affecting you. There are those days, however, that it annoys me on a very distinct and personal level.

I am the first person to suggest to anyone having any level of problem to turn it over to God. I have even used mental imagery to mentally ball up said problem, package it and place it at the foot of the cross and ask Jesus to take it. This whole forgiveness thing...man. I never got how hard it is. I will continue with my daily request that God help me to have true forgiveness for the almost ex. I have told him that it will be one of his greatest miracles when it happens. I honestly have no idea how God will pull this one off.

I guess it's times when there's just constant sickness in the house. And I have to keep working while a sick kid or two is begging for my time. Those days when I have to figure out how to do laundry and load the dishwasher while my stomach feels like I ate a brick and might puke it up any minute. Those days when I see that Pokemon Boy has drawn a Pokemon or alien in the dust on the base of the flat screen TV. Those days when my kitchen counters are cluttered and seem insurmountable. Those days when all I want to do is lay in bed watching movies and doing Sudoku. Those are the days that I really resent being left. Being left to carry it all. Being left to do the hard stuff.

I think the straw that stuck in my craw was when Lil' Bro started crying so hard out of the blue. He finally calmed down to say he missed his dad. So I called his dad and let them talk. Lil' Bro still thinks he has to hand the phone back to me. When he did, almost ex said, "Wow. That was hard." I just said, "Yah. That was hard." I'm sure you don't have to be a clairvoyant to know it was dripping with venomous sarcasm. It was that call that made me want to just scream, oh YES. How HARD this must be for you! How difficult, you poor poor VICTIM!!!

But then, God does give miraculous grace. And he often doses me with it while I'm on the phone with lobotomized dolts. Thank you God, for your perfect timing.

Anyway. This is not one of my stellar days. I thought I'd share it with you guys because, well, I tend to only post when something wonderful or strengthening has happened. OR when my kids are sick. And you might get the impression that I'm this amazing single mom who does everything right and follows all of God's commandments all the time (Kristen and Trish - you guys can stop laughing!).

I know God will pull me out of this funk. When I'm done wallowing in it, I guess. For the moment, though...blah.

My Honda Vomitorium

Now if that title doesn't whet your appetite, I don't know what will!

As I mentioned in my last post, Lil' Bro was sick on Friday. Saturday & Sunday found him rather punky but doing ok. He was more tired than usual. Lighter appetite. But after a day of yarfing, why would I think that strange?

At church, he was normal. He snarfed about 952 pieces of the watermelon (normal). He fought with the pastor's kid in class while trying to "share" the train set (normal). He ran around chasing Pokemon Boy and all the other kids after church (normal). He ate about half a cheeseburger at lunch (pretty normal for being post puke).

Last night, we were driving over to my parents' house for a light dinner. We were almost done with the 7 minute drive when I heard a cough and then the dreaded splattering. Lil' Bro was a font of yick. Four times over in quick succession. All I did was keep saying stuff like, "It's ok buddy - just let it out!" He was asking, "Is it my fault mommy?" So while I faked the total mommy calm, I dialed my mom and informed her of the wonders that were about to be in her driveway.

Mom met me in the driveway with towels, rags and wet washcloths. Have I mentioned that I have the best mom in the world? Pokemon Boy bailed and ran into the house to regale my dad with the horror of "his" ordeal.

Mom and I stripped Lil' Bro, hosed him down, and got him into one of mom's t-shirts. If he hadn't been totally devoid of color, it would have been adorable. Then we spent the better part of the next 40 minutes pulling everything out of the car, hosing it down, wiping things down, spraying things down, etc. It was a study in stomach control. It's the glamor of being a mom and grandma. But it doesn't make it any less gross.

I got Lil' Bro bathed while mom put everything washable in her washing machine. After everything was as clean and dry as humanly possible, I took Lil 'Bro home and got him into bed. Pokemon Boy stayed at my parents' house.

Lil' Bro woke up dry heaving. Mom brought Pokemon Boy home and stayed with Lil' Bro while I took Pokemon Boy to his first day of summer camp.

This is just one in a long string of illnesses for Lil' Bro. I took him to the doc because I don't like long strings of illness. I want it documented and checked. I don't want something awful happening and someone going, "Why didn't you take him to the doctor after the 42nd illness?"

The doc confirmed my thoughts: it's just another virus he's having to deal with. It's his first year in day care and his immune system is having to adjust. Trial by fire, as it were. Pokemon Boy did the same thing back in kindergarten. The doc also confirmed that this virus is highly contagious. Which makes me wish I hadn't brought the Honda Vomitorium and it's passengers to my parents' house last night. *sigh*

It's just another weekend that reminds me that I would not be able to do this whole single-mom thing without God totally hooking me up with a ginormous support system. First on that awesome list is my mom & dad.

Being a mom is all glamor, man. I need to get me a tiara. I want the diamonds to spell out "God Rocks!" Think they'd make me one?

My Friday Night Date!

Gotchya with that title, didn't I.

Lil' Bro was sick, as I mentioned before. When Pokemon Boy got out of school, he intended to begin the "fun" of summer vacation as soon as he got home. Alas, I had to keep working. Darn my work ethic and my love of having a roof over my head.

I informed Pokemon Boy that we couldn't go anywhere because his little brother was sick. Apparently, Lil' Bro planned this illness simply to thwart Pokemon Boy's pursuit of happiness. Since Lil' Bro had infringed on Pokemon Boy's inalienable rights, I thought it only fair that I take Pokemon Boy somewhere fun. This brought much whining from Lil' Bro, accompanied by many assurances that he was better and was fine to accompany us to whatever fun we were planning.

I am a mean mommy. I told Mr. Sicky Pants that he had to stay home so he didn't spread whatever it was to all the other kids at wherever we went. I spent the rest of my work day listening to Lil' Bro beg and whine - all while laying on the floor only barely able to keep himself from falling asleep.

My mom came back over to watch Lil' Bro while I took Pokemon Boy to this place that's like Chucky Cheese's on steroids. I usually hate the place. The giant pizza/pasta/salad bar buffet is great but honestly, it's like all children check their manners at the door. And many of their parents seem to have followed suit. Most of the dining rooms have TV screens that take up an entire wall. So I could choose from trying to scream a conversation over whatever cartoon they were showing on Boomerang or the basket ball finals in the other room (packed with mostly dads). It was nice only having one boy there. I was able to carry most of the food stuffs around the buffet. They don't give you trays. So you kind of have to balance whatever you possibly can over to your table, plant your kid down (if you feel safe doing that) and then go back to get whatever else you need. It's not for the faint of heart. It's not for single parents whose kids aren't old enough to leave at a table alone for about 3 minutes. It's not for anyone with anger management issues.

Then there's the ginormous game room. Usually, I'm trying to keep track of two little boys who are 3 1/2 years apart in age and therefore want to do very different activities. With only one boy to track, it was much easier. And since my boy doesn't play video games at home, he didn't really care for the entire section of those sit-in games where you practice bringing death and destruction to all manner of creatures. He rode the bumper cars about 4 times. We played air hockey 4 times. We walked around and looked at the other stuff there but always ended up at the bumper cars or air hockey tables. It was awesome.

We had promised to bring Lil' Bro some prize from the place but the bumper cars and air hockey don't win tickets. So we headed off to Walmart to get something to make Lil' Bro feel better. Little Iron Man toys did the trick. He must have thanked me about 7 times this morning for his Iron Man toys. I was told that he has always wanted them. Always. Which is interesting since they've just come out within the last couple of months. But then, a couple of months is "always" to a 4 yr old.

So I had a really cool date with Pokemon Boy. I will have to have a fun night out with Lil' Bro sometime, too. Just carving out some one-on-one time with each kid is going to be important. Thank God for my mom & dad being around.

Last Day of School and Assorted Whining

Pokemon Boy sprang awake this morning with a smile on his face. That only happens on the last day of school. It was very cute.

Meanwhile, Lil' Bro was still sleeping off the puke-fest he had an hour earlier. He has held down maybe a half cup of water so far. And that's in small ice-chip doses. Anything larger than that comes right back up.

And in whiny mom land, small woodland creatures seem to have taken up residence in my lungs. In about 13 minutes, I have to dial in to a 3 hour conference call. A big portion of which, I will be leading. It will be fun to run through the current state of the annuity administrative system while hacking up small squirrels and such.

Yesterday, I bought a gorgeous frame for Wanda's water color print she sent me months ago. It's on the wall and my mom (who is here to watch Lil' Bro) thinks it's gorgeous. So does Lil' Bro. So do I. Once I get a new camera, I will post a shot. Wanda, you rock!

That's about it. Very exciting and glamorous, this lot.

I Have No Words

If you're the praying sort...now would be good.

http://chapmanchannel.typepad.com/inmemoryofmaria/

Another Fever and Sneeking Peeks At My Own Blog

I sent Lil' Bro to school today. His rash was almost all gone - just hints around his neck and upper torso. So off he went. I had an empty house which was good because I had 3 intense meetings. I had to lead two of them and I had to really pay attention to the 3rd. Not a good time to have a 4 yr old asking me to help him blow his nose or to wipe his bum or whatever.

Lil' Bro came home low energy but that's normal after a day of running crazy with like 852 other 4 yr olds. Ok...more like 18. But I bet his teacher feels like it's 852! Right before bed, he felt hot. Yup. Another fever. So I dosed him up and put him in bed.

I have heard there is this weird mystery virus going around. PerkyPianoMom is fighting a house hold of yick and it seems to be similar to this. It just seems to be this virus that tosses one symptom after another at whoever it currently inhabits. Nothing horrible - just enough to lay you low and make you a whiny mess.

I would like the annoying mystery virus to go away now. God, can you please take care of that for me? Thank you.

Oh, and the 2nd part to this post's title? Yah, I found myself checking my blog multiple times today. I told myself I was just checking for comments but we all know I'm lying to myself because they all come to my email inbox. So I confess: I was "checking" my blog to check out that sultry picture of Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Good gravy that boy is gorgeous!

Fare Thee Well, Showtime

Today, I cancelled Showtime. It's an annual occurrence. I order it for the lifespan of one of my favorite shows and usually cancel it after the last episode of the season. Which was many weeks ago. I was guiltily keeping it and watching movies and getting re-hooked on The Tudors. I love period pieces. And I adore Jonathan Rhys Meyers. He is definitely on my "Yes Please!" list.

It was just getting juicy, too. I was torn between saving money and seeing Anne Boleyn reap what she sows when her husband starts wooing Jane Seymour, one of her own ladies in waiting.

But in all honesty, all the cheating this king did (and most of them did). And tearing his own country apart just to satisfy his own selfish desires. Yah, a bit too close to home. My heart will ever go out to poor Queen Katherine of Aragon. I mean A) what a killer name. And B) she was the rightful queen, exiled and dethroned by the woman her husband left her for. Gah.

Although it's beautifully produced and has the most mesmerizing ensemble cast (Peter O'Toole as Pope Paul III? Genius, I tell you. Genius!), I had to bag it to save the pennies. I'll just have to get it when it's out on DVD. HA!

Lil' Mr. Blotchy

Lil' Bro is home again today. He was supposed to resume school. But when I got him up around 7am, he had a light rash on his cheeks. I thought, wow, I need to wash his face more. But he had just had a bath the night before. Within an hour, he had a rash over his whole face, ears and neck. By the time I got him to the doctor around 9:30, it was all over his torso and upper arms.

The good news is, they don't think it's viral or contagious. It seems to be a reaction (not allergic) to the amoxacillin he's on for his strep. He only has one more day of it so they said finish it off. It's not itching him. He doesn't seem to notice it. But it looks awful. But now (3:45pm), the individual spots have all blended together to give him this very sickly looking red blotchy patchwork all over his visible skin. Poor thing.

They said he can go to school tomorrow. But he's so low energy. I'm not sure he'll be up to school. He's been on the couch and very quiet all day. Not exactly what I'd call school-ready.

Anyway, that's my update today. He's still cute. Just blotchy.

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 L.y.n.e.t.t.e 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.