Table I bought this weekend. Still working on accessories.

Dear Son and Dear Husband watching evening episode of Mickey Mouse before bedtime. Ready for Son to go to bed so I can watch the entire 2nd season of True Blood. Like I told

DH...That's a lot of True Blood in 3 days!

I think I'm up for it though.

Goodnight, my someone.

I've seen the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse hot air balloon episode (or is that Handy Manny?) more than 20 times. I am sure of it.

So today when Holden asked to sit with me and watch an episode before bedtime I really didn't want to. But was pleasantly surprised when it was a new episode about Donald Duck playing hide and seek.

I had a bad week. Emotionally I mean. Outwardly it was a decent week. School was fine, everything was fine. But two different times this week I almost called my dad. Once I even started dialing before I realized there wouldn't be anyone to pick up the call.

I want this blog to be real. There is really nothing worse than going to a blog and only seeing frivolous posts all the time (though they certainly have their place). Of course going to a depressing blog isn't exactly fun either.

So I'm conflicted about whether to tell you all this or keep it to myself. I was talking with a friend of mine and she was telling me that she is tired of all the complaining her friends do when they have seriously fabulous lives...wonderful family, wonderful friends...what do they have to complain about?

I haven't ascertained whether she was referring to me or not.
Maybe partially.
I felt a little guilty when she said it--but sometimes I feel like I have two different lives. Part of me is still reeling from the losses I have experienced--and angry at people who don't have to work so hard to feel normal.
Reeling at the isolation I am still feeling. Knowing there must be someone who understands this, but not knowing who to call or how to find them. I sometimes feel like I talk about my life and the silence is deafening.
A blank look and then change the subject.

And part of me understands the discomfort they are feeling.

The other part of me (the happy part) is the one that can enjoy driving on highway 66 and stumbling upon an old antique store, walking in and finding a gem of a place. The kind of antique store you don't find around here--you only find them out East.

My personal theory is none of the really good antiques made the difficult trip out West in the 1800's. So you have to go back East to find them. Anyway, I found an art deco hall table at a good price in excellent condition.

Then while driving to meet my husband for an entire afternoon of sitting on the lawn and drinking beer (him, not me--but I enjoyed sitting in the shade of a big tree all afternoon) I heard one of my top 5 favorite songs of all time...Running on Empty, cranked it up, rolled down all the windows and sang along.

And then tonight...If I could just freeze a moment in time it would be the one right before Holden goes to sleep at night, when we are lying on my bed and I'm trying to get him to settle down.

We pray; I hum Goodnight, my Holden (to the tune of Goodnight, My Someone from The Music Man) to him--and then as he squirms around,

"Close your eyes," I whisper.

He squints his eyes closed, flops to his left side and then his right. It is twilight in the bedroom and I snuggle deeper under the blanket and close my eyes, trying to breathe as if I am asleep, waiting for him to stop flopping around.
I'm not the greatest at faking it.
Suddenly I feel two small hands holding my face, one on each cheek,

"Hi, Mommy."

His wide-eyed, sweet little face is inches from mine,

"Hi Honey. Close your eyes."

I am sitting in the recliner watching a History channel show called Ancient Aliens. I don't particularly believe in aliens. I don't particularly disbelieve either. I'm neutral on the subject and watching it because a neutral-feeling show is just what I needed because tonight is the season finale of NCIS (my favorite show on television) and I DVR-ed it. I am drawing out the suspense for myself because I know I have a long summer of no NCIS ahead of me.

So don't tell me the end. Especially if there is any chance Mark Harmon might get the ax.

I started arguing with my husband this morning because he woke me up at 5:21 a.m. to tell me that the power went out and I should reset my alarm before he left for work. This morning he got my child ready for the babysitter, took all the trash to the curb, and then took my kid to drop off at the sitter before he had to be at work (at 6 a.m.).

There is no reason he should have known to reset my alarm to 6:31 a.m., but at the irrational time I thought it made sense. Called him and had him turn around 2 minutes after he left because he had my purse in the car.

Argued with him on the phone as he drove to drop off child at babysitter.

Got to class (8:30 a.m.) and said to myself,

Am bitchy today. Maybe shouldn't talk too much. To anyone.

Not a good way to start the day--I'm easing my guilt by posting here. Don't worry I already begged forgiveness (sort of). But still feeling a little guilty because he is putting our son to bed and I am sitting here surfing the internet and watching an alien show.

By the way if they exist I don't think they are going to attack us.

Humans are more likely to destroy themselves first.

I never claimed to be an optimist.

I know I am not posting with my usual frequency, but last week I started school, had a sinus infection, got a cold, and helped set up a wedding...including making a bridal bouquet--which may sound easy, but it is not.

I wish I had a better picture of it, but my photography skills are not as good as my floral skills. Maybe if I get permission I will post some wedding photos.

I am learning these days that I am not as fun when I don't drink. And if you ask my husband he would probably tell you the same (he has certainly been telling me for years). That last sentence didn't sound so bad in my head, but typing it makes me sound like fun Bobby. I am just introverted and high strung so drinking helps grease the wheels.

But I quit drinking last month (not that I ever drank much) because of my headaches, so at the wedding I was pretty reserved. I did dance, but spent probably longer than I ever have talking with one of the bridesmaid's husbands about CRP grass. Not that it wasn't interesting, just not what I would normally be doing at a wedding.

And then when I was talking to one of my pregnant friends I mentioned my stillborn daughter, which is so not okay. Yes, mentioning Ally is okay, but no--not when aforementioned friend is 30 or so weeks pregnant.

I hate it when you're pregnant and people talk about the most horrific pregnancy stories, like their fast labor, or the epidural that didn't work, or their emergency c-section with a baby in distress, or a newborn's apgar scores that were in the toilet, or...their stillborn baby--

as if you're not worried enough about the possible negative outcomes. So I was that lady. I caught myself and apologized profusely. If you're reading this, M--I am sorry again.

Everything will turn out great for you and Baby.

Overall the weekend went well, but now DH, Holden, and I are all sick with some respiratory illness. It was all I could do to drag myself out of bed this morning when I heard Holden rummaging around in his closet and then hitting the baby gate in his doorway with a vacuum attachment (I store the vacuum in his closet).

I should be napping right now.

Blessing

I'm sorry to you readers out there who check this blog on a regular basis. I have been slacking like crazy, and realize my posts have no meat to them.
Mostly just dessert.

It's not because I have nothing to talk about, rather--I have so many things to talk about I'm having trouble narrowing it down.

After 2 years and many many sleepless nights I finally feel like a mother.
After 5 years and (many sleepless nights...wait, that doesn't go here...) many challenges, I finally feel like a wife.

I don't spend weekend evenings anymore wishing I was going out with my friends/to a bar/out to eat.

1) Because I like being with my family and working in the yard, watching a movie or watching my child and/or
2) Because I don't really have many friends who live close enough and aren't busy with their own husbands and children.

I know you probably think it is strange that it took me this long to ease into these roles. I certainly thought I would adjust more quickly that I did.
I am thinking about all this because one of my friends is getting married this week. She is a longtime, dear friend of mine and has been there for me many times when I really needed a friend.

We see each other now less frequently than we did when we were younger. Mostly because our lives have diverged. But not really in a sad way, in the way that means you're growing up and moving on. I think maybe someday our paths will cross again, in the way that good friends sometimes do.

Did I already tell you that I believe in soul mates? In both the sole mates and soul mates sense. I believe that you choose your sole mate (as in spouse), but I also believe in soul mates--
and not in the romantic sense most people associate with that term.

I believe soul mates are the people who were always meant to cross paths and learn something from each other.

So, for my dear friend K--on this special week,

"May your home be filled with laughter and the warm embrace of a summer day. May you find peacefulness and beauty, challenge, and satisfaction, humor and insight, healing and renewal, love and wisdom, as in a quiet heart. May you always feel that what you have is enough."

When you wish upon a star...

The Walt Disney company hears...cha ching!

I tiptoed over the baby gate in front of Holden's door to check on him a half hour or so after the bedtime wailing quieted down and found him clutching his Mickey Mouse doll (that I found at Walgreens...who knew it was so hard to find a plush Mickey around here?) as he does every night while he cries himself to sleep.

It actually nearly brought a nostalgic tear to my eye because his sweet little lashes were closed tightly with arms clutching a Mickey Mouse doll on his little mattress laying on the floor under a bedroom sky dotted with fake stick on stars glowing in the dark.

And then my cynical side once again cursed the genius marketers.

They always manage to suck me in.

But aside from the marketers and the way they make my child beg for
"Mickey Mouse Pubhouse!" many times throughout the day, I do enjoy being a parent because I have an excuse to play again. To spend hours playing baseball, fake wrestling and tackling, to listen to the joy in my child's voice when he learns something new.

DH and I were discussing the perfect age to go to Disney World, which I happen to think is about 5 or 6. I guess DH never went to Disney World so he doesn't think it would be fun...but I went at 16 and still thought it was great.

I started the Disney World discussion with him because I think
The Wizarding World of Harry Potter http://www.universalorlando.com/harrypotter/
is going to be the best theme park ever. I am beyond excited to go see it. (And so glad I have a young child and an excuse to head down to Florida). But I guess I don't really need an excuse, I have always loved fantasy/imaginary places--like Six Flags, Universal Studios, Medieval Times, even wax museums fascinate me...the mystery, the drama, the excitement, the imagination.


I guess with my life it's lucky I like rollercoasters.

Disregard the previous pie recipe I posted and use this one instead...


1-1 1/2 cups sweetened coconut flakes (may add more to taste)
1/4 cup almonds
1 package instant Jello pudding-coconut cream flavor
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 cup milk (I use skim but any kind)
1 premade oreo pie shell

Toast coconut in 300-350 oven until golden brown (stir often). 1/4 cup almonds into food processor until very fine consistency. Chill bowl and whisk of automatic mixer until ready to start. Whip heavy cream in auto mixer until soft peaks form (just barely). Continue whipping and add pudding mix and milk slowly at the same time. slowly add in almonds and coconut until well mixed and beat until stiff peaks form. Fill oreo pie shell with mixture and garnish with almond, coconut, and chocolate curls as desired. I have been freezing it until 2-3 hours before time to serve. Enjoy!

MSG

We got our membership to the Children's zoo this week. Holden had such a good time it was hard to drag him out of there, but he was sleeping sweetly in his carseat within minutes of our departure.

Big white peacock looking a little Godzilla-ish in the mini-train town the zoo had set up for a special weekend event-------------------->

Holden riding a creepy butterfly larvae by the butterfly house....

and me, with my new glasses. It only took 8 months.

Lately I've been thinking about how to prevent my headaches, and the list of foods I am not supposed to eat. Here is an abbreviated version of the no-no list:

Ripened cheeses (like cheddar), chocolate, vinegar, anything fermented, pickled or marinated, sour cream, yogurt, nuts, peanut butter, hot fresh breads, coffeecake and doughnuts, bananas, pizza, onions, citrus foods, fermented meats, pork, avocado, all alcoholic beverages, and avoid MSG.

I was horrified to learn yesterday as I was doing research on foods to eat...that everything in my pantry has MSG in it. I wish I was exaggerating, but I am not. Luckily, the US Postal service is doing a food drive tomorrow so I just put everything in a plastic bag and now don't have to feel guilty about getting rid of it. Not that less fortunate people should be subjected to high levels of MSG, but at least it's something.

This shocking discovery has me disconcerted...while all the products do not specifically say monosodium glutamate, most all of them do have some product that is or can become MSG when processed. So now, I not only want to protect myself from this product but my child (who for his entire life thus far I seem to have been filling with this product).

I have no solid answers, my research continues. But so far, the only thing I have had to eat today is some applesauce, french fries (I am suspicious that they may contain something that is not listed on the ingredient list), and broccoli sauteed in olive oil.

The closest Whole Foods store to my house is 90 miles away.

Seriously, go look in your pantry for these ingredients: glutamate, glutamic acid, gelatin, monosodium glutamate, calcium caseinate, textured protein, monopotassium glutamate, sodium caseinate, yeast nutrient, yeast extract, yeast food, autolyzed yeast, hydrolyzed protein, hydrolyzed corn gluten, natrium glutamate, any hydrolyzed soy product...

I can't tell you how much I am already craving some Chinese food.

This could get interesting.

The requisite mother's day post

I’ve already told you this, but my mother killed herself on Mother’s Day 2004. Well, technically it wasn’t on Mother’s Day, but it was that night. This year is the year when the day falls on the same day of the week.

I still haven’t figured out how to enjoy Mother’s Day, and spend most of the preceding week (this week) wondering how to get out of my husband’s family’s Mother’s Day celebration.
He gives me a free pass, but I still feel guilty skipping it.



In many ways I felt I was a casualty of my mom’s long battle with depression. Not only because she left our house when I was 12, but because even into my early twenties…it was always all about her.


In the most dysfunctional way.


In the way that a family member always goes and picks up an alcoholic from the bar—just so they won’t drive home. In the way that I’d do whatever she wanted to do, just so that maybe she would be happy.

The dysfunction manifested itself in the way that I never questioned her about how she could leave me at such an important and fragile age—how she never came to any activity I was involved in and those that were important to me from the time she left until the time she died.


It still hurts—but not so much because she took her own life—in a strange way I understand that part. I understand she was miserable and couldn’t see living one more day in the life she had created for herself. I was miserable for her.


No, it hurts because I will never have the answers I needed from her. About who she was and what she wanted.

But I suspect she didn’t even know those answers.


I loved so many things about my mother. Her voice, her smile, the way she used get ready for work in the morning, and her knack for decorating and giving the perfect gift. I love that in 6th grade she taught me some chemistry, and that so many times she was a soft place to land when I was in pain.


I think of her often, when I am walking into a store and carrying my purse the way she used to, or when I am standing and watching a movie the same way she used to. I think of her when I am playing with my son and trying to freeze the moment in my mind—so I can recall it when I am older and smile.

Sometimes I worry that I don't know how to be a wife and mother...what that role is supposed to look like, and sometimes I put too much pressure on myself and everyone else because I'm trying to make right what I feel went so wrong in my own family life as a child and adolescent.

I am thankful that my choices and the blessings God has given me have brought me to this place. I am thankful that even though fear and doubt and worry may creep in--

I know in the deepest part of my being that I am the luckiest, most blessed wife and mother in the world.

If ever there was reason to celebrate Mother's Day--that would be it.

2, 4-D

I truly feel sorry for my neighbors. I'm considering spending the day on my lawn (DH finally got the riding lawnmower circa 1981 working). I have a new(er) push mower missing a bolt and a non-working huge John Deere lawn tractor in my garage as well. So my garage looks like a lawn care service shop, and my lawn looks like...this.

It is embarrassing, but I haven't figured out yet how to circumvent the mosquito problem and the whole 2 year old and no fence problem. At least no fence where I need to work on the yard (on the sides and front).

I think the best I can do may be to have DH mow, and then spray some weed-b-gone broad leaf killer and hope for the best. By the way, I inherited this horrific lawn--so it's not all my fault.

But a lot of it is.