Not Me Monday Part IV

Its that time of week - Not Me Monday - on Sunday of course...

Dont forget to check out MckMama the Queen of Not Me Monday at MyCharmingKids!

This was a doozy of a week, so buckle yourself in, and enjoy the ride of brutally honest:

I did not stay in bed longer than I was supposed to 3 out of the 4 days I worked this week. And I did not come back home to get ready for work on 2 of those 3 days only to sit on my laptop and peruse blogs.

I did not eat apple crisp on Monday for breakfast because I tricked my family into believing it was all gone on Sunday. I would never do that!!

I did not almost forget about an important meeting on Monday and then go unprepared because instead I was trying to figure out how to squeak out a longer lunch so I could take a cat nap.

I did not start coming home for lunch so I could watch soap opera's for an hour each day.

I did not try to photo shop pictures of myself from the award ceremony because no one told me how HORRIFIC the pants I was wearing on Wednesday made me look like I weighed 50# more than I actually do (which is a scary number as it is - a number I will not tell you by the way, and a number I did not lie about when I renewed my license a few months ago).

I did not run around town on Friday without showering, and then go to a movie Friday night only washing my hair.

I did not spend all day saturday in my pj's. And I did not take a 2 hour nap mid afternoon.

I absolutely did not clean one iota again this weekend. I really need someone who loves to clean, is pregnant and in a nesting mood, or a tornado (ok, well maybe not that drastic) to come in here and overhaul my house.

I did not cry yesterday when the customer service rep from Target Credit Services offered me a 6 month hardship and reduce our interest rate by almost 20% and reduce our minimum payments by over $80 a month for the next 6 months because of our overwhelming medical bill situation.

I did not deviate from our budget plan so far this month (seriously I did not, I have been really good at sticking to it).

I did not post a post this week that included WAY TOO much information about me and where I live. And while I said I would delete that personal information sometime today I did not, instead I will take some time tomorrow while I am at work (I did not say that - shhhhhhhhhh) to do it.

I did not almost admit to one of my new bloggy friends a really important secret about an issue that I have had during my entire relationship and marriage. Its not what you may think - there is nothing morally wrong, but to me it is a big deal - and it is not his fault.

I did not think about selling our camper this fall, paying off our credit card bills (and maybe even some of our medical bills), and then purchase a new camper in the spring - which would mean taking out a loan to pay for it (which still may not be a bad idea... the interest rate and payments would be much less, we wouldn't have to store it this winter, and we could finally get the new camper we have been wanting to get for the past 4 years).

I did not wish this weekend that somehow a tummy tuck could be covered by my insurance. I did not wonder if there was anyway we could make it "medically necessary" so I could get one now. Its been 4 years since I had cancer, 4 years since my radical hysterectomy and ooferectomy, and 4 years since my scar has been irritated by that lovely post pregnancy, overweight baby skin.

I did not just write too much information that has probably got you all having horrible visuals.

Your turn! TMI and all! It does a body good!!!!!!!

Happy 6th Birthday Buddy!!!!

Happy Birthday Baby Boy!

We always joked about this picture - a lover (kissy lips) and a fighter (clenched fists).

Daddy's nickname is Gator, so everyone we know gave you "gators" before you were born. They even adorned you with the nickname "gatortot". This was your birth announcement picture. Its still one of my favorites!

You and grandpa Bruce belly'd up to the bar!

Simply coined "Super Big Smile".

Just like daddy - shove it all in at once, no care for the small bites. And look what it gets you - black "race track" frosting all over everything! But you had fun!

Great grandpa gave you your first hair cut - just as he had with all of his grandsons and great grandsons. He is in a nursing home now, and his clippers are officially retired, so we were honored to have him cut your curly locks! I absolutely love this picture!

If it was shiny and pink you wore it. It was always your sisters, and it made her mad, but who could blame you, you were adorable in all of it! Of course when you went through that "I want to be a girl when I grow up" we started to limit your pink.

Trains, trains, trains. You live them, sleep them - even wear them. It was nearly impossible to get you out of this number.

Oh the temper. You climbed up, you get down. That was what mommy told you. And you got mad. Very mad. Crying. Screaming. Mad. And mommy just snapped pictures.

Always willing to give someone a lift. Lainie hopped on board and you rode around grandpa Bruces cul-de-sac. Two Mothers Day's in a row, Daddy hopped a ride on your bike while we all walked for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.

This was the worst 9 days of my life as a mother. We didn't know why you got so sick, and we couldn't find anything to make you better. Platelet transfusions, IVIG, a Bone Marrow Biopsy and 4 days of steroids and finally, the cure seemed to come. You were so brave!

Two weeks later and looking so much better - the steroids made your cheeks a little fuller than we are used to, but you looked so healthy!!

Your kind little heart saw Mckmama's blog and pictures of her unborn baby boy's name written in different media - so you went down to your Thomas cabinet and brought mommy enough trains to make Stellan's name.

You have waited 3 years for this day - it felt like it would never get here. Just the day before you wouldn't talk to Mrs. R, on this morning it was like you had known her all of your life. My baby is growing up - somedays so fast!

Happy Birthday buddy! I love you this much!

(translation: nothing can get between us!)

The big news

UPDATED: I removed all tell tales of who I am and where I live, so if you know me and want the details of the award, email me! I will gladly share as I am very proud of this little community!

Original post with edits:

As I have said many many times, I live in a very small town - of less than 4,700 people. I am originally from a suburb of Minneapolis, so this small town life was a huge culture shock. But the interesting thing is I discovered that I really had a passion for small town living.

So when I took this job in my small town, I knew that good things would happen. That is not to say that I am making it happen, but I am definitely inventing some wheels and greasing some very squeaky, very abused wheels and making some changes happen. And I am very proud of what I do. Its not often that you hear someone say they take pride in a job that beats them down daily and makes them wonder why they do it. But I know why I do... I have huge passion for this town. And I want it to succeed.

In June I received a call that we had been selected as finalists for an Award, I was giddy. Giddy because I was told that finalists are chosen for: Population under 10,000; showing a progressive plan towards a thriving economy; strong community pride; strong community values; diversity and the willingness to work with diverse groups of people; youth retention programs; and youth involvement in community; and at least one member bank in their town (we have 3).

I knew we had it - we just had to. Because while we met and exceeded most of the qualities, and we working really hard on the ones that needed improvement.

The process to be chosen as the winner was in the form of an application. We had three questions to answer. How we answered them was important. We could have sent bulleted responses that were very specific to their needs. We could have sent para graphical narratives that met their requirements. But I like to think outside the box.

Looking at the task at hand as an opportunity to use my creativity I decided to tackle the project on Power Point. What better way to show your pride than to inject a little history, a whole lot of photo's, and a whole lot of story telling. I made phone calls and got details of projects that I wasn't fully knowledgeable in; I contacted the Historical Society and got good solid information on our history; I called the schools and made sure that they were well represented. Forty pages later I was MORE impressed with what we had done as a community.

And then I took a step back and thought, I really don't have an ending to my story. I am missing something. That last little detail that I found out last night was one of the things that most impressed the people who were on the selection committee.

I wrote a thank you letter.

I submitted the application on June 28th, and then waited on pins and needles.

Fast forward to July 29th. I had spent 3 weeks in and out of the hospital, and was having my third and final minor surgery on my kidney when I received an email from my contact. I still wasn't back at work, and I am really glad she didn't spill it in the email, but rather asked me to call her when I was able to.

On my first day back at work the phone was ringing as I walked into the office. What a wonderful way to be welcomed back!

I work very closely with a department head at City Hall who helped me write portions of the application. Even though her name was on the application, she still had not heard we won. So I devised a little plan. Knowing I had a ton of mail, email and phone messages to go through there was already a set up for a disastrous encounter - fake of course.

So I strategically placed a sign that read "WE WON" inside a manila folder, and atop it laid a report we had worked on that was thorny in nature and had been causing us great angst. I walked across the street to her office, tossed the file on her desk, huffed into the chair across from her, and exclaimed "You are not going to believe the phone call I just received". She looked scared. She wouldn't open the folder, only asking me to explain. I told her she needed to look at the file. Upon opening it she panicked even more as she thought we had ironed out all of the wrinkles. I told her to read on. She did.

Then she saw it.

The folder went flying, and she came running around the other side of the desk, joining me in a little girlie jumping clapping screaming cheering crying jumping giggling clapping screaming dance. In the middle of City Hall.

And that was the story we shared last night as we were presented with the award, and a nice check that our community can use towards a project of our choice.

The wait was full of busy planning. My contact did most of the planning, we just needed to provide the guest list, and help her coordinate our trip to Minneapolis.

They paid for everything. They chartered buses, allowed us to invite as many people as we wanted, paid for gas and mileage for the 4 cars that went separate from the bus, and they even held rooms that they would have paid for had anyone chosen to stay over night. They hired a well known signer song writer to compose a song that included lyrics taken directly from responses made by invitee's when they RSVP'd for the event.

Oh and the the food and beverage. Hand passed hor d'oeuvre's. A four course 5 star dinner, and goody bags packed with amazing gifts. For 50 people from our little town, 30 of their Board members, and several staff members of our local Senators offices.

It was incredible.

And it still is.

And we are incredibly proud!!!

Big award for a small town!

I have been debating since July when I found out we won sharing all about the really cool thing that happened in my really small town. Trying to decide how I share it without sharing too much. Thinking about how I could give enough details to make you say "WOW", but not so many that you would say - I know where you live - neener neener neener.

The really big super fantastic award ceremony was last night in Minneapolis, and today if you are anywhere in the tri-state area, you probably see the glow of pride from all the way over here (just dont look too closely - I have huge bags under my eyes).

So I decided this... For the next 3 days I am going to "tell all" (that gives all three of my readers their own day to read it) and then I am going to remove all "tell tale" signs of where I live.

I wouldn't be so concerned if it weren't for the fact that I hold a very public position in my community, and I use real names on my blog.

But I am THAT excited about this award (and the fact that I played a major role in winning it for the community).

I will post all about it later today, so all three of you (maybe four on a good day, five on an infrequent day), stop back later and see what I am sharing too much of (besides pride and joy!).

The best line of the Debate tonight...

"You are in the way of my script".

The biggest foot in mouth moment? "That one".

Jes-us - can anyone answer the question laid before you? I think this debate would turn someone who DOES know who they are voting for into an undecided...

And these are the gentlemen who we have to choose to run our country.

Not Me Monday Part III

I am slipping! I am usually on top of this by Sunday, but this weeks "Not Me's" start with a confession:

I did not post on any ones blogs this weekend, in fact, I don't know if I read any one's blogs this weekend.

I did not get dressed until noon on Saturday and 4 on Sunday. I did not shower before getting dressed on Saturday. I did shower on Sunday. (like you wanted to know)

I did not eat a crap load of chips on Friday and Saturday.

I did not hog the apple crisp I baked on Saturday. Nope, I shared. I did not tell Mantha that I wanted to hide the last piece from Jim, and I did not practically beg her to have another treat rather than ask for my last piece.

I did not have said last piece this morning for breakfast. (Ok, I really did not, but I am going to!)

I did however consider having Cheetos for breakfast to keep up with my Monday morning tradition. I did not go to the grocery to buy them because I planned on the apple crisp instead.

I did not wonder at least 3,079 times this weekend why my butt keeps getting bigger - I know why - read above.

I did not decide to blame it on sympathy fat for my pregnant pal Mckmama. I did not because I don't want her to feel bad that I am eating sympathetically for her.

I did not decide not to get ready for work before taking the kids to school so I could come home and see if Mckmama posted her "Not Me's", only to find that she had posted a.lot this weekend. I did not read her weekend blogs however because I wanted to get these done - as I am slipping. I used to be #16-18 on her list, I think today I will be #143. I did not preplan an hour break during my busy work a day schedule to read her blogs from this weekend.

I did not not sleep well last week, and make lots of excuses for why I didn't participate in too many other commitments.

I did not coerce try to convince Mantha she should be a mass server at church. I did not fail miserably at that coercing convincing, I just gave up agreed to let her think about it a little longer before I pressure talk her into it.

I did just look at the clock and notice it is 20 minutes before I am due to report at work, so I had better nip these in the bud and get ready!

12:57 am, October 3rd, 2001

You woke up in pain.

Your nurse came into your room.

You asked for medication.

She left the room.

She returned at 12:55 am.

She sat next to you for the next two minutes. Watching your breathing labor more and more.

At 12:57 am, while she held your hand, you let go and took His hand.

You were gone.

The phone rang at 1:06 am. I had only just gotten into bed not an hour before. I was spent. Jim, who could sleep through a freight train jolted awake and handed me the phone without answering. He knew. I didn't. It took me totally by surprise.

I thought I had prepared. I had spent months knowing the final outcome. I said good bye to you - asked you to put your sword down - just 27 hours before. But then I had this wonderful evening with you.

And now you were gone.

I had phone calls to make.

No time for tears.

I needed to call Bruce and gram. I had dropped her off at your house just 2 hours before. I didn't want to wake her. I wasn't sure I should. But I did.

I called Ted. He was mad at himself for not spending your last night with you. We thought we had more time.

I called your sister Chris - who lived 6 blocks away and asked her to call your siblings... Dan, Cath, Mitz and Ed. I wanted to be the one that told Mary and Nick. She understood. Then she made the most selfless offer - rather than coming with us to say good bye to you, she came to the house and stayed with Mantha.

Then Jim and I drove, what felt like the longest drive ever. It felt like a normal visit - only at 2 am - and then it hit me - just as we turned on Snelling. It hit so hard that I wanted him to take me home. I wanted to not go where we were going. I want it to not be true.

But he trudged onward knowing I wouldn't have it any other way.

Bruce and gram were there waiting. Ted and Theresa arrived just after we did. We gathered at the end of the hall. Waiting so we could all go in together. But then strangely, they told me to go in first. I think they wanted someone to break the barrier, to make it more real - to make it acceptable.

Because no one wanted to accept it.

I took on this role while you were sick. I became the informer and the enforcer.

I went to all the doctors appointments, asked the hard questions, pushed for more results and made everyone in your charge rue the day they came to work in less than fully submissive to kindness and gentle care.

I pulled the non challant Radiologist out of that first appointment and asked him flat out if you were dying. He tried to stay neutral, he tried to be overly technical - but he didn't know who he was dealing with. I remember the look on his face when I, barely 5'1", knocked his over 6'3" down to size - telling him I didn't to subtle, I didn't do sugar coated. I wanted the truth, and while he thought it was best for you not to know, it wasn't his decision to make.

I verbally chastised your Oncologist for arrogantly admitting he made a mistake when he didn't do a bone scan in February. And then I made him tell you your prognosis, and when he would begin to sugar coat it, I would glare him back into the truth. (He still doesnt like me by the way, but I dont care, I dont like him either - I refuse to see him when my I make my annual trip to the Cancer Center).

I took notes, kept a journal, emailed everyone, and made countless phone calls throughout your illness. I took advice I didn't want to, was yelled at for looking at the illness straight in the eye, and not pretending it wasn't really happening. I told it like it was, and called the naysayers out. I made sure that no one, and I mean no one, talked about you in third person - over your bed - like you weren't able to hear or understand what they were saying. I didn't allow myself to get upset or breakdown.

So it was natural to me to cross that threshold first, and report back that it was safe.

I took my time.

It was my turn to grieve.

My turn to be selfish.

I will never forget thinking you looked as though you were sleeping, mouth agape, expecting to hear sounds escape. But there were none. I wanted to crawl in bed with you and never leave. But I didnt. Instead I told you how much I loved you, and I prepared you for what was to come. I promised that no one and no thing could ever hurt you again.

Slowly the rest started filtering in. They didn't stay long. It wasn't easy for anyone.

As we sat together, in that room that people gather in, we all realized at once that this was it.

All I wanted to do was sleep. But I couldn't turn the phone off, I didn't think it was fair to those awaiting the news. I didn't sleep until that next day.

And then came the morning after - a full day after you were gone. I decided I would take Mantha to daycare and work on putting memory boards together. I dont remember the motions, I just remember that after visits to the local Target, Pier 1, Fabric Store and grocery someone finally got brave enough to ask me if I was ok. The night before I had gone to bed in sweats and a shirt that read "bite me". Apparently when I woke up that morning, I did nothing more than grab my purse and my daughter and leave the house. I didn't comb my hair, I didn't check the smudged make up. I didn't change clothes.

In my semi-upscale suburban town I went out shopping with a bang.

My cares were with you, not with me. I did it all for you.

In a snap!

Who would have known. You spent so many days non responsive. Not to touch, not to sound, not to anything.

I wasn't going to come see you today. I had a church gathering to go to, and I was one of the hosts, so I did not want to deviate from my plans. And then Jim called me. He said that he felt I really needed to go see you today. He had a "feeling" that things were changing, and I shouldn't put it off. I never told him that I had already said good bye to you. But something told him I needed to be with you today.

So I made other arrangements for the party. I called the person I was sponsoring and explained the need to be with you, and I even left work early.

And so much happened. All at once, but in slow motion. I remember almost every conversation. I remember every watchful eye. I remember the entire meal. All of it.

So one thing at a time...

When I got to the Home, gram met me in the hall with a little more pip in her step. A little more excitement. And a SMILE.

What a welcome. You were sitting up in your bed. You were smiling, and you were muttering a few very quiet words. This was only the second time I heard your voice since August. And it was such sweet music to my ears.

And hungry. You hadn't eaten solid food in a month. You hadn't even sat up in bed, or opened your eyes in at least three weeks. And here you were, wanting me to order your dinner.

Your favorites. Like magic, not more than an hour after we asked for them, they were delivered to your room. Maybe they went to get them because they wanted your last meal to be special. Maybe they knew something we should have known. We read the book they gave us. We knew that it was possible you would come back to us - if only for a short time - before you left us for good. We will never know - but amazingly, they had it all. Even the butterscotch pudding.

And you ate it all.

Soon after dinner, you received some special visitors. They had come to visit when you were still in the hospital. But it was really hard on them to see you that way. They weren't sure they could handle seeing you get any worse. But they came. And they were so happy to have made that decision. Because they got the best part of you. We reminisced. We remembered every memory there was to remember. And there were a lot. They were our best family friends. We lived next door to them for 25 years.

As the night wore on, you started to get tired, and a little more obtuse. Now just watching and taking it all in. I remember walking back and forth in the room, and you watching me closely. Because I am who I am, I said "what, do I have boogers on my face?". You just nodded and giggled - sort of silently - and kept watching.

It was fastly approaching late, and gram was having a hard time keeping awake. Your visitors had long since left. And you were getting more and more distant. We knew it was time to let you rest. So we said our goodbyes. Several times. And as you drifted off to sleep, we just sat and stared, in awe of all we witnessed tonight. And finally, we left your room.

And we felt really good about the evening. What an amazing time we had with you. It gave us a new found hope. We spent the entire ride home revelling in all that had transpired.

You were amazing.

What a special night.

Whispers of love

Today, October 1st, 2001, I whispered to you... it was ok.

I thought they would be my last.

You proved me wrong.

But that story is for tomorrow.

Whispers of love...

I love you more than you know. I want you to put down your sword, your battle is over. Go to Him, and be at peace. Run in fields of flowers, and be free. Gaga and Leonard are waiting for you. Its ok to go now, we will be ok. We have each other. And we will see you very soon.

And then I held on for dear life.

And I wept on your shoulder.

And I looked back several times before I walked out your door.

You were so beautiful.

So peaceful.

So loved.

Sunday September 30th, 2001

Summer 1984 - you will find I am willing to post embarrassing pictures of myself when it comes to the memory of my mother. The shroud of vanity is lifted in her honor.

Today was a quiet day for you.

Not so much for Gram and I. The culimination of the 4 months prior were wearing on both of us. Things were said that have since been forgiven, but at the time were necessary for both of us.

She was losing her child - something a parent should never have to do.

I was losing my mother - something I was only allowed to have for 30 short years.

I wanted more.

I wanted you with me at my wedding.

I wanted you to hold my hand as I gave birth for the third time - because that is what you did.

I wanted you to know your grandchildren.

I wanted you to grow old - not die at 54.

I became very protective of my daughter role, and felt it necessary to remind people that their loss was important, but that they would never understand the magnitude of my loss. None of them had lost their mother.

I still protect that. It is sacred to me.

Seven years ago today...

Seven years ago today SciCom sent you 30 yellow roses (I bet if they knew pink was your favorite rose they would have sent it instead) to celebrate your 30th Anniversary at the company; no matter that you hadn't been able to work since May.

Seven years ago today Mantha, Jim, Bruce Gram and I had birthday cake in your room. We opened gifts - including a Pooh Bear blanket that she still sleeps with - celebrating Mantha's 4th birthday. You slept through the whole party, we tried to wake you, but you were too tired.

Seven years ago today you reached two milestones you promised yourself you would. Your "to do" list was as short as your time left with us.

The last item you never knew came true 1 year and 9 days later. He was due to come on your D day, but he waited until the time was right.

Seven years ago today we knew your time was short. So we savored every moment like it was your last.

Happy Birthday Mantha

You are right, you are a big girl now, but don't forget, I have bribery! Lucky for you, most of those pictures aren't digital and I don't feel like scanning them tonight!

You were the best baby. You wanted mom all the time as a newborn, and I loved it. We spent the first 4 weeks sleeping on the sofa, and then one day you decided it was ok to sleep in a bed, mine of course. Before I knew it, like it was old hat, you slept for the first time by yourself, and the independence started.

Grandma was so proud of you. She called you her Tinkerbell. She would have done, and did most anything for you. She even waited until after your 4th birthday to say good bye. She didn't want it to be a birthday you always remembered in a sad way. I know she misses you as much as we miss her.

This has always and probably will always be my favorite picture of you. It is so whimsical. Just like you are. And it is beautiful. Just like you are.

This was your last birthday as an only child. Just a few short weeks later you became a big sister. This was that "secret, we weren't supposed to travel" last weekend at the cabin with grandma and grandpa before your brother was born.

Caught red handed. Sneaking candy before Easter Dinner was your modus operandi, but the camera does not lie, and you were caught!

You hated that I made you wear your hair curly for your first dance recital. I thought it was adorable, but ever since I have not been allowed to repeat the look.

You hate this picture, I don't.

You and your big sister. Most of my bloggy friends don't know about Alex yet, but I couldn't keep her out of your birthday post when this is your favorite picture.

And this was the one that took us much of a half hour to get right because we traded off holding the camera. It was a sad day for me because you were leaving me for a month, but amazingly, the time flew by quite quickly.

I hope you have a wonderful birthday, and that year #11 is whimsical, and beautiful and wild and happy for you! I love you baby!

Not Me Monday Part II

Its that time of week again. Please join in if you wish! If you post Not Me's please link either back to me, or link to MckMama, the Queen Mother of Not Me Monday!

I did not just eat a whole crap load of whirly pop pop corn all by myself at 9:00 pm.

I did not clear out any of the kids' movies on our DVR to make room for more of mine. I didn't do it. Nope...

I did not get uber upset jealous when my husband informed me I was not included in party planning for someone I had already planned on having a party for (and no, its not you, we wouldn't do that to you when you asked us not to).

I did not eat red meat, dairy and carbonated beverages all weekend when it is all explicitly against my Urologists orders. Nope, that wasn't Prime Rib last night, it was a very well masked slab of Tofu.

I did not use my womanly wiles excuse of pain (which wasn't an excuse) to convince my husband to make the 2 hour drive to get Mantha.

I did not put off two minor bills this week so I would have some extra cash to buy more supplies for my jewelry to not actually make anything from them. Ooooops.

I did not breathe a sigh of relief when I wasn't asked to teach 5th grade Religion this year. And I did not admit that we haven't been to church more than once a month for a very long while to one of my uber religious friends today. Nope, I didn't. (I smell an intervention coming people).

And I certainly did not start these on Sunday knowing full well I would end them tonight, nope, there is still Monday - time for Cheetos for breakfast, and birthday cupcakes (for Mantha) for lunch!

Silly stuff on a late Friday night...

Everyone seems to be doing it, so I thought why not, its not like I am doing anything else right now...

Circa 1966 Circa 1968

Circa 1974 Circa 1976

Circa 1990 Circa 1994

Scary thing is I think I was wearing 1966 just two short years ago.... eeeeeeeeeeeekkkkkkkkk... (1976 actually looks a little like that picture of my mom in my side bar.... hmmmm...)

And 1994 - well that could have been my photo. S.C.A.R.Y. My what big hands I had!

Want to check yourself out? Go to: http://www.yearbookyourself.com/

How many more days...

In the hopes of keeping this very politically neutral...

How many more days can we afford to wake up in the morning and see another headline screaming immenent doom?

What the hell is happening to this country? Maybe that is the answer. Maybe Hell is happening to this country.

Do the people who are fighting over what to do about it, and those who are falling apart realize that they need to take a long hard look in the mirror?

Why do we, the struggling citizens of this country, ALLOW the people we voted for, the people who are supposed to represent OUR BEST INTEREST make decisions that place us further behind the 8 Ball?

How many more days can we survive at the rate we are going? How many more days do we have to bail out bad business practices and poor investment decisions?

Happy Birthday Dear

Your rockin it in those Carhartts and fur hat (not!), but my dog is adorable here so well, hopefully everyone will look at him and not you! :) Love ya babe!

Mckmama and Stellan are in need of your prayers again

Things have been going so well that we all have held out hope that God heard our prayers and made his plans for Stellan the same as Mckmama's and her entire Mckfamily.

But today in her post "Be patient child I am not finished with you yet", she revealed that Stellan is again in dire need of support and prayer, and and more importantly, is in dire need of divine intervention should he be allowed to live on this earth with his wonderfully amazing family.

Something you will find enchanting about Mckmama is that even in her need, she still finds time to share the good things in her life. So please, if you would be so kind as to think of them, maybe say a prayer and visit her through the link above and read, patiently, through the entire post.

I believe in God. I may not always be a good Catholic, but I do believe in the power of prayer.

Thank you!

While you are thinking about them and saying a little prayer for Stellan, can you also say a little extra one that the biopsy Mckmama is having in two weeks is not pre Cancer - or God forbid, Cancer - and pray that the cyst on her ovary is nary more than a bothersome nothing (this she wont know until Stellan's birthday on October 29th).

More "Not Me's" ON Monday

I did not lay in bed until 7:15 while the kids got dressed.

I did not get in the shower at 7:35 knowing we needed to leave at 7:50.

I did not decide while in the shower that I would just put on pj's and take the kids to school and then come back and get dressed.

And I did not come back with the plan to get dressed but instead got online and read more "Not Me's" on Mckmama's blog!

Nope, not me!

Not Me Monday

I eluded to this earlier, and also placed a button on the right side bar. MckMama over at mycharmingkids started something last week that she intended as a "get it off my chest" moment, and it turned literally into as she puts it a "carnival" of "not me's".



So in true creative (almost 32 weeks pregnant and Stellan is rockin') fashion, she decided to make this a Monday staple.

So why do it Sunday? Well, she has a busy day tomorrow, and well, we are all so dedicated that we are stalkers committed to being at her side at all times, so well, its time! :)

Not Me Monday - 1st Edition:

I did not just take my laptop away from Jim so I could check on MckMama, and all of my other bloggy friends.

I did not spend all day today in my pj's - cleaning a little here and there, but mostly just sitting around hanging out in the internets.

I certainly did not spend all day indoors when it was beautiful outside - re watching old DVR events, I just did not!

I did not go to the cities on Friday and spend money on things I didn't need, barely wanted, and clearly should not have purchased while telling Jim that he was on a tight budget this weekend.

NO, I did not!

I did not for the 3,631,483 time think about starting a diet this week and then eat 4 pieces of garlic bread for dinner.

I did not not order that testing kit my doctor asked me to order almost a month ago and do it this weekend. And I will not call tomorrow and reschedule my appointment with him so I can buy myself some more time. (side note: if I don't do it soon I have a feeling he will be knocking on my door as he already threatened that "this time" I had better follow his recommendations or I will lose my kidney. I did not ignore his idle threats and procrastinate again... nope, I did not!).

I did not ask my husband if I could go to an Arts Grant Writing seminar on Tuesday instead of making him some wonderfully fabulous birthday dinner complete with cake, slippers and a pipe (well ok, I did not just over exaggerate that a titch).

I will post more tomorrow as I just realized I did not make the kids' lunches yet, and I need to do that so I can go to bed.

So your turn!

If you decide to participate, would you be willing to go visit her at mycharmingkids and add your name to the list of "Not Me's"?

Updated:

I did not hang my grandmothers oriental rug over the deck rail all day and then bring it in without vacuuming it first.

I did not just discover that several species of multi legged creatures came in with the rug.

I will not admit that I am A.f.R.a.I.d. of all things multimorethanfourlegged.

Dad, when you tuck me in

Can you close my window?

Because I don't want to hear the darkness.

Great minds, and resignations

Funny that I was pondering how to put to words this post, my pal Fad posted that she too tendered her resignation this morning.

Last night the conversations went from bad to "what the?" - and not with the usual suspect. This time it was the nearly 11 year old.

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Set the stage:

Band sign up was last night. At 8 o-idontthinkso-clock. I became privvy of the time when at 5:15 I received the note that she brought home from her teacher telling me that your assigned time is September 16 at 8. Um ok, thanks for the notice, and um, nope, not coming at 8. I have very solid, very good, no excuses just the facts ma'am reasons.

1. Big Brother Finale
1b. Biggest Loser
2. Bed time for babe's

Do these teachers not understand bed times? Do they not know what a nightly routine is? Do they not understand the prime time lineup (which BTW, NBC, please read the TV Guide before you schedule a 2 hour Biggest Loser during my Big Brother. Not a good move NBC, not a good move!)?

I know, it sounds like I put TV before my child, but really I did not. I instead marched my double wide booty and my nearly 11 year old into the band room and demanded brazenly that my case be heard sat quietly in the corner and listened to the rules, and then herded like the other cattle into the gymnasium to purchase/rent the instrument my darling, loves me more than her own life, daughter says makes the most amazingly beautiful sound of all the woodwind instruments - the Oboe.

As we wait, and wait, and wait (which I discovered while waiting, nearly half of those in attendance didn't get the notice that they had an assigned time, and came when it started because they, like me, had "other things to do" between 7 and 9 last night - uh huh, we parents all get the Prime Time schedule. We all read TV Guide. We know where its at!) and finally get up to the table to make our rental/purchase, I find out that the music company DOES NOT RENT OBOE's! Oh no, they don't rent them! Do you know why? Because that lovely piece of musical dreaminess costs.too.much.to.rent!

Who'da thunk that the most obnoxiously sounding instrument is the most expensive instrument to purchase. To the tune of $3,265 (I think the one he was trying to see me one made of gold - funny that it is made of wood...).

THUD!

(brief pause to administer smelling salts)

Ok, I am back (you do realize this is only setting the stage for the incident that caused my mommy demise right? Ok good!).

So I sit down in the chairs to recover talk to my darling, loves me more than her own life, daughter to explain the annnual mom's cost of living increase I didn't get this year, the dance lessons I just paid for, and the birds and the bee's (ok not them, but I needed more effect), and ask one last time "are you sure you want to play the Oboe?". Yes mom in that sweet little tone only an almost 11 year old can exume was her response.

So back to the line we go. And we wait, and wait and wait (because now the 6:30 crowd has arrived). Finally our turn, and Mr. Music Man says to me, "I forgot to ask you if Mr. S told you the school owns an Oboe that you can rent".

THUD!

(brief pause to administer more smelling salts)

With a bright and beaming smile I say, "no, you did not ask me that the last time I stood here in this Godforsakenlineforeternity we spoke, I will go talk to him". And without pause, I exited my spot in line - I bet you can guess not for the last time this night - and returned to the band room which has now flooded with the 7:00 crowd, to wait in another line to talk to Mr. S about this illustrious Oboe he forgot to tell me he had for rent with my daughters name already assigned to it!

So we get through that pleasant converstation, and as we walk out of the band room with less of a load out of my pocket - I will take the $30 a year rent over the $3,265 purchase price any day - only to hear - "Oh, Mrs. N, did you happen to purchase her Theory and Music Books and Music Stand from Mr. Music Man yet?"

THUD!
(brief pause so I can regain my composure - forget the &*^$#@ smelling salts)

Yep, back into that line. The one that now occupies the remnants of the 6:30 crowd, intermingled with the now entering 7:00 crowd.

Finally, back to stare Mr. Music Man in the eye. You see, the poor man kept getting stuck with me. Not because of bad luck, no no, it was kharma man, all kharma. Don't do the job right the first time, well then, try and try again!

Books and stand in hand, worn out soles from walking back and forth, and a smile now permanently frozen in a stage of fakeness on my face, almost an hour and 40 minutes later, we are walking out of the school (so much for that half hour it was supposed to take).

Before I return to the actual story, in that first 5 or so minutes we were in the band room, Mr. S told us that the kids wouldn't actually start to play - or even take home - their instruments until October 6th.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Back to the regularly scheduled program:

Ok, so we get home from the aforementioned party and there are a few things still on the list of chores for the nearly 11 year old. Just a few. Things that would take less than 10 minutes total if she put her mind to it (I hated that phrase when I was her age, but I am the mom now, so I kinda like it).

But she had her own agenda.

Her agenda included setting up her music stand, her music books, and finding the perfect chair to sit upon while practicing her pretend air-Oboe.

And those other things (which included letting the dog whose bladder is now near exploding out) were forgotten.

And then she went to bed.

And those other things (which still included letting the dog whose bladder is now near exploding out) were forgotten.

But not before she hand delivered a pleasant little note to my lap and stomping back into her room.

I believe the words: "I can't take it anymore... I have been waiting three years to tell you this... I am a big girl now" actually spilled out of her pen and onto the paper.

I knew it was a cry for attention, but before acknowledging it, a small and silent bwahahaha snuck out. And then the man of the house read it. And a very large belly roll snuck out of him.

So on played the 9:00 revelle - in perfect pitch and tone, on my pretend air-trumpet.

And from around the corner came the darling nearly 11 year old. Mad as the devil on a cold MN winter day!

Why was she mad you ask? What was the letter about? It was because we are always yelling repeating ourselves in sometimes raised voices that she didn't do this, or she needs to do that, or did you get your homework done? What do you mean you have no homework? Did you let the dog out? Did you feed the cats? Do you have to wear that again?

You know, the usual suspects of parent retoric.

So we sat, and we talked. We worked it all out she and I. We are women, we roll that way. A little catty, then all love for mankind.

Until the evil ogre step father re-entered the room. And a new list of "did you do this? you had better do that! and don't think I didn't see you do what you thought I didn't see you do!" Because you know, he was helping right? Um, yeah, not so much....

So now that game starts all over. And now she adds to her "your a bad mom list", the fact that I let the evil ogre step father pick on her so much. Which I don't. But I try to keep that battle for after she leaves the room. So she stomps off, and he walks away, and now my peaceful Prime Time evening is ruined because I have pieces to pick up and battles to wage. And its only 9:30...

By the end of the night, I had posted my resignation as mother and goddess of all things beautiful and shiny in our home on the refrigerator for all to see. And then an equally as lovely resignation was posted on my now a slumber evil ogre adoring husbands forehead.

And out the door went my peaceful plan of staying home all.alone.this.weekend. Because this morning darling nearly 11 year old daughter informed me that she had no intentions of camping with the evil ogre step father and the perfect little brother this weekend.

Sigh. That means I also get doggy duty this weekend (hehehe I said doody). I wonder if he will be able to read "I quit" if I put a slice of peanut butter coated bacon on the note?

My favorite time of year...

I love Fall.

I love the beauty in the colors.

I love the crispness in the air that brings cool fall breezes.

I love that this afternoon I curled up in two fleece blankets, listening to the cool rain fall outside my open window. If it had been any cooler, we would have lit a fire in the fireplace.

I love Fall.

....and admittedly, I love Winter too, but don't tell anyone!

Remembering

I am sure Blogland is lit up with everyone's story of that day, 7 years ago. Some will be first hand experiences - right there in the eye of the storm. In a front row seat to one of the most devastating historical events of our existence here on this land we call the US. Some will be reminded of the circumstances for which they heard the news.

But we all share one thing in common. We all survived the events, and have all lived with the ramifications. Heightened security everywhere we travel. Passport laws preventing us from visiting our neighbors without proper documentation. Paranoia over skin color, religion and attire. Prejudice and damnation without justification. A war that seems to never end. Oil prices that climb, and the need to become more fuel independent (this I think would have happened even if 9/11 hadn't).

Nothing will ever be the same.

I have three very distinct memories of that day.

I remember driving into the parking lot at work and hearing about the "accident" of the first plane. No one in the office had yet heard. Within a few moments of starting the conversation someone shouted "another plane hit the other tower". The rest of the day was spent in front of a television.

My best friends family was on a plane from MPLS to Pennsylvania that morning to attend a funeral. When we heard a plane crashed there too I was beyong consolable. Their plane had been delayed leaving the airport here for mechanical reasons, and once finally in the air, was one of the many planes that was forced to ground early. They spent 3 days in Ohio too afraid to go any closer to NY.

My mother by this time was near the end of her time on earth. Most days she was comatose, non respondent any more than a watchful eyes, wimpers and throat clearing. No voice from which to speak. But on this morning, the news that was in front of her brought something back - if only for a few moments. It would be one of only two times in the next three weeks that I would hear her voice (the last time was the night she died).

My grandmother sat watchful by my mothers side from nearly the moment we found out she would not survive this time. I think it gave them both some peace. It healed some wounds. It provided a mother time to grieve for her daughter, and a daughter to accept love that she had long thought had faded. It also gave my mother a voice that day.

As I was in the middle of making panicked phone calls looking for my best friends whereabouts I was interrupted by my assistant telling me that my grandmother was on the phone, and she sounded upset. I remember thinking to myself, oh God, please not now. I am not ready and I am already emotionally worn. Don't let today be the day I remember for the rest of my life as her last day on earth.

My grandmother was distraught, but not because my mother was worse, more because my mother was speaking. And she was unconsolable. She was worried about Bruce. Bruce was in the Army - working at Holman Field in St. Paul - with Blackhawk helicopters. First responders to anything local that needed military aide. She was afraid he was going to war and she would never see him again. She was the first person I heard that day mutter that word.... "War". The one person I thought I would never hear speak was the one that first put that notion into my mind. I tried for quite some time to make her understand he would not leave her. Not now. But she needed to see it, feel it, know it.

Bruce was unreachable that day - for obvious reasons - so I left work and sat by her side waiting for his call. He showed up late that night. You could see the worry on his face. I knew it wasnt for himself, but rather for his fellow soldiers. He reassured her he was ok, and he wasn't leaving her. At peace with it, she settled back into her silence.

Eventually his men left. He retired right before they did.

Where did that smile go

You ask? Its on vacation! The grumps have moved in for a short time, but I promise they will be gone soon! Even perpetually happy people must have their bad days!

You had a bad day...

Ok, maybe not you. But I did.

I have been having a bad week.

Things that are hard to look past.

Conversations that needed to be had.

Issues that still aren't resolved.

And the other party is pretending there is nothing wrong.

Am I wrong to not want to let this sleeping dog lie? Or shall I leave it for now and hope for the best?

A question I will have to sleep on.

Thanks for listening (nay, reading)!

Two awards from my pal Heidi (blushing)

Heidi over at Minnesota Mom is giving me all sorts of love today! She has given me to awards that I hope I can live up to... Some days my cynicism gets the best of me, but luckily she sees through my naughtiness and sees mostly the nice! Thanks Heidi!

The Awards

These awards were passed on to her by Esther:

Thank you Heidi! And ditto!!

And Johanna & Joanna:

Thank you Heidi! I have a motto - if you smile, no one will know you are really: mad, sad, crabby - whatever. So smile - they uses less muscles than a frown and don't cause wrinkles in bad places!

The "Smile Award" has some rules - but they are easy - if you are already smiling, you have already passed the test! Heidi asked that the people who receive these awards visit the awarders (not a real word? I don't care, I'm smilin' so I can make a few mistakes!).

Now, the characteristics for the Smile Award are:
1. Must display a cheerful attitude. (not necessarily at all times–we are all human).
2. Must love one another.
3. Must make mistakes. (hey I just met that characteristic! Whew!)
4. Must learn from others.
5. Must be a positive contributor to blog world. (I don't know if I met this one...)
6. Must love life.
7. Must love kids.

There are rules attached... Here are they are:
1. The recipient must link back to the awards creator (The Babblings of Mere).
2. You must post these rules if you receive the award.
3. You must choose 5 people to receive the award after receiving it yourself.
4. You must fit the characteristics of the recipient of the award (see above). (not sure if I met this one...)
5. You must post the characteristics of a recipient.
6. You must create a post sharing your win with others.
7. You must thank your giver.

I am choosing to pass these awards on to 5 very special bloggers (you will find they are five of my favorite haunts). As to not pick favorites among them, I am going to list them in the order they appear on my RSS Feeds this morning:

1. A woman after my own heart. She has been through more in the past few months, yet still held strong to her faith. She has brought thousands - and yes, I mean thousands - together to not only rally for her and her baby, but also to rally for a greater cause - MckMama at My Charming Kids is very worthy of both of these awards!

2. I just met Katie at Overflowing Brain this week. But she is addicting and inspiring. At 25 she has been through so much more than anyone that age should have to. She is cynical like me - which makes me adore her even more - and she is very open about it. That makes me smile! She already has me on the edge of my seat as I watch hurricanes come marching in like ants in a storm (I'm sorry, but I now have the song in my head).

... clearing mind of "the ants go marching one by one..." ...

Ok, back...

3. This next blogger is new to my bloggy haunts, but I cannot get enough of her! Her humor, and her love of her boys makes me smile, and makes me giggle uncontrollably! She also lives in a really rockin' area of this country - Serena at Zip & Tizzy will make your day - and the pictures of her boys (usually hidden by something adorned on their heads) will warm your heart.

4. Jessica at Thoughtful Reflections makes me think. Sometimes harder than I want to. Sometimes in such a humorous way that I nearly pee my pants -what is it with White Vans anyway? She can get really deep, or she can be a wealth of knowledge. Sometimes she is just really funny.

5. Fadkog over at For A Different Kind of Girl - well I stalk her. And I adore her. She is naughty, and biting, and naughty, but oh so nice. And she says it like it is. And the love for her boys and tool man - unmeasurable (double e intended). Her writing style blows my mind. She makes me smile, and that is what is all about.

So there you have it. I have quite a few others that I would like to give these to, but since it said 5, I will follow the rules laid before me.

And if I could "backs" these awards, I would give them back to Heidi - but since someone beat me to the punch, instead I will leave her with this:

30 Seconds

30 seconds is all it took.

All it took to bring tears to my eyes.

And a wave of memories rush over me at once.

Maybe because it has touched my life so closely.

My mother.

Myself.

My aunts - two of them.

My friends - countless.

People whose names I know well.

People whose names I may have never heard.

I stood up to Cancer.

Did you?

Will you?

It took only 30 seconds for the tears to flow. It took only 30 seconds for the memories to flood.

Name that body part

Name that body part...

(I will hook my scanner up later, but for now you will have to revel in the beauty of this art work via my phone)

ADDED FOR CLARIFICATION:

This was created on the first day of kindergarten in art class. And yes, when asked what that extra line was, well, Jadon's response was as you could imagine.

The best/worst part... his favorite girl is also the daughter of his new art teacher - and a class mate.

My troubles have already begun!

First day!

Today is the first day of school! WAHOOO!

Today was also the first time I have not taken a picture of Mantha with her new teacher. She is starting 5th grade and was all worried that the class bully (who seems to always end up in her class...) would see us and make fun of her. So instead I settled for an outdoor shot as we bolted out of the house on time for once!

The poser and the kindergartner!

I did get one of Jadon with his new teacher though... He won't be let off the hook until he is at least in middle school (which here is 4th grade).

Check out the Thomas lunch bag - he was so excited to bring "cold lunch" to school today. He didn't speak one word to Mrs. R. when we went for conference on Tuesday. The ice breaker today? His Thomas lunch bag.

1 Month

In one month it will be 7 years.

It feels like yesterday.

It hurts like today.

Ooops!

For two weeks now I have been working on a blog for a club that some other yo'cals and I started almost a year ago. We have had a website, but since I am the webmaster, and don't like to update it, I decided I would do a blog instead. The blog can list upcoming musical and theatrical acts just as easily as a website - but at a bazillion times faster updating, and easier access.

So I worked on it. And I launched it. And I built some "search engine optimizations" on Google, and I published and emailed everyone and their 3rd cousin all about the club's new blog.

...and then...

Two weeks later I discovered it was listed under my personal profile for this blog...

... d'oh ...

The other blog has alot of my personal information on it, including phone numbers, addresses, and nearly my name-rank-serial number.

Attached to a blog where I talk about my kids by name.

Talk about throwing ANY sense of anonymity out the proverbial door.

Needless to say, I have removed "that blog" from my profile. I do not want to have to rebuild it from scratch, so until I figure out how to transfer it from my existing email/user information to something else (does anyone know - can I just add myself as a new manager with new log in information, and then remove my old self?) its only going to be public to those who know about it.

Bummer.