see chel's musings

The road climbs steeply. . .

2011-01-05T07:08:00.004-07:00

. . .out of depression. A road that seems impossibly vertical, peppered with slick rain and desert heat. A road, once traveled, you hope to never return. People who suffer the affliction of depression often travel that treacherous road more than they care to admit. I am one of those people.

For much of the time away from my blog, I have been under the heavy heart of depression. This past spell has been punishing. Starting in March, worsening with the dreadful summer heat, and continuing on through what in other climates would be Autumn, I struggled with the impossibly vertical road. Starting to see the tunnel - no light yet, just the tunnel - was a huge step for me, beginning in October. But, then, a slight step backwards right after Thanksgiving. It's like that, you know.

So where does that leave me now? Teetering on a very fine line. It honestly can go either way. Hoping and taking measures to assure I hug that fine line until a thicker one is underfoot. And I pray a lot.

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God." -Philippians 4:6

And while I am not a morning person, I thank God for every morning I awake. With each new sunrise, a new beginning. Another chance to walk that fine line until it becomes thick.

One last thing for today:

"Sometimes our light goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being. Each of us owes the deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this inner light." -Albert Schweitzer (with thanks to Suzanne from Privet & Holly for sharing)

I am grateful for my friends and family standing strong beside me on this journey. You have made all the difference.

Forward

2011-01-03T08:32:00.010-07:00

18 months. Where did the time go? Where did I go? I can't believe it's been so long since my last post. Feeling a little like I am in the confessional from my Catholic youth.

I have much to share, to ponder, to catch up on. I hope you 4 or 5 loyal followers are still with me! Please stay tuned and help me move forward. . .

For now, suffice it to say I am reveling in our "winter" weather of 20's to 30's at night and 40's through 50's, a little of the 60's, during the day. I do love a chill in the air!

Happy New Year from all of us to all of you! 2011 is going to be a great year!believe smile construct teach read play laugh help sing insprire love dream hug dance forgive learn give listen understand hope share appreciate

WHAT WILL MAKE YOUR NEW YEAR HAPPY?

*from our pipo press New Year's cards

Summer Struck

2009-07-05T08:44:00.004-07:00

I am a four seasons kind of girl stuck in a perpetual summer world. Some may find this a predicament of their liking, but I couldn't be more discontented. It makes me crabby knowing I am only a little more than two months into a six-month stint of heat. Not just any heat, but the heat of the unforgiving desert. This mood seems to hit earlier and earlier each new year. I apologize to those around me as I try to muddle through it. I know I am no fun to be with when I'm like this. I feel like a grumpy old man. I wish it didn't have to be this way. Why can't I dig deep down and find a reason to love this weather? Be happy just where I'm at, be present. This will take much soul searching. But it is worth the dive, to find reason to be in the here and now. Even if that means my "here and now" will hit 115 degrees come Saturday.

I gain weight just smelling Albertson's fresh baked bread. . .

2009-06-29T08:50:00.002-07:00

. . .I am quite sure of it.

Why else would I be down only two pounds this past week? It's so frustrating because, for once, I have been faithfully following the plan. I can't remember the last time I made it two weeks on a diet. Exercise is a bit sporadic, but I am much more active than I have been in a long while. And this week had been really tough on my psyche, cravings abound and emotions gone wild. I even cried while watching the final College World Series game - what is up with that?! I did not, however, give in to any cravings. Which, in my mind, is why I should be down more than a measly two pounds.

I know, I know, two pounds is a healthy amount of weight loss per week. OK, I truly do believe that, just not this week. First, it was only my second week on the program and I expected more off in those first few weeks. Second, this week has been a real challenge; but I did not waver. Not one bit. And my activity level was up. Go figure.

Which brings me to the Albertson's fresh baked bread incident. I swear I could hear that bread calling my name as Wink and I grocery shopped on Thursday. Thursday at 4:00 PM to be exact. If, for whatever reason, you cannot have Albertson's fresh baked bread, do not, I repeat DO NOT, grocery shop at 4:00 PM. Fresh, right out of the oven. Aroma fills the entire store. Bread hot to the touch. Ugh. I literally wanted to cry. Yes, cry. Addict, the script of an addict. Cry, maybe, but I did not cave. The bread stayed on the shelves as the clerk commented on how healthy our cart looked. Thank you Albertson's clerk, I really needed to hear I was doing the right thing.

Instant gratification. I guess that's what this is really all about. I want it and I'm not going to get it this time. A little too much instant gratification got me into this mess; I shouldn't expect that it would get me out of this mess as well. Instead, I learn how slow and steady works. I learn how to wait on that gratification; have it really mean something. I learn how to work hard. All sounds much more worthy than the whole instant gratification gig, huh?

Well, on to week number three. I'll gladly take another two pounds down as I look toward the distant holidays and know that, if I keep it up, I will have given myself and my family the best Christmas gift ever. One well worth the wait.

Top Ten Reasons. . .Lake Milton

2009-06-23T08:55:00.001-07:00

Far enough away to feel the peace of being waterside; but close enough to make the trip often throughout the summer months. Perfect for my family living in Ohio. Perfect for me and Caly when visiting!

As with all things Ohio, Caly dove right into this adventure. She was so excited to take that first few steps into the lake. But anxious too. Worried about catfish. Apparently she had an unsavory experience with a catfish in one of our lakes. (We live in a lake community, but I wouldn't even dip my foot into this water, let alone swim in it. It's that disgusting "reclaimed" water; environment friendly, because we live in the desert.)

"Are there catfish in this lake?"

I take a moment because I can see on her face that she does not want there to be catfish in this lake.

"No honey, there are no catfish." I am going to hell.

"Good, because if there were catfish in this lake, I would not go in it."

"Why?"

Caly proceeds to tell me of a boating mishap on our lakes where the boat tipped, she ended up in the water, and what she perceived to be a catfish nipped at her.

As if the memory of this makes her doubt my word, she asks again, "Are you sure there are no catfish in this lake?"

Well, I've already lied, what am I supposed to say? If I tell her, "yes honey, there are catfish in this lake," she will freak out and not enjoy the lake. And we were there all day. So I reiterate, "No honey, there are no catfish in this lake." How seriously do you suppose God takes lying to your child about catfish?

"Good, because if there were catfish in this lake. . ."

"Well then, you have nothing to worry about." Unless, of course, she later fishes with cousin David and catches one. Thank goodness they were unlucky in their fishing endeavors.
Senses awakened for Caly as she thoroughly took in the lake. Cousin Joe allowed her to drive the boat. Really drive the boat. I was worried we would all end up in the lake with the (shhh) catfish! But Caly did an awesome job as captain and we all made it back to shore without incident.
Peaceful. How does water do that to you? The ebb and flow. The mist. The coolness in its touch.

My cousin Karen had already beat the odds, surviving months after cancer threatened to take her life. The peace of this trip was never more apparent than in her face as the boat glided upon the water. She seemed to feel free. Free of this monster that now dictated her life. Free of pain. Free of wondering how much longer she will defy the odds.

As I watched her, fully aware I would never know the depth of her thoughts at that particular moment, I had no words to share. Partly from sadness, but also partly from peace. Peace in knowing that somehow this special place is able to quiet her soul, stop the chaos of cancer from spinning within. Because that is what water does.
Lake Milton has come a long way over the years. Expansive luxury homes are replacing old, dilapidated, camp-style structures. Landscapes are filling in where wild brush once took over. The feel of the lake is just so much more regal. But even with the obvious improvements, the simplicity of the water still prevails. And the peace. Peacefulness only a place of water can bring into being.

Lake Milton, you had me at hello.

Poppy enjoying the boat ride:
Caly ready to go on the boat:
Aunt Rosey's boyfriend Bill and Poppy relaxing at the pagoda:

Chatting with Kimberly, Karen & family friend Jesse:

Kimberly and Joe - does it get any better than this?

Consequences

2009-06-22T06:36:00.002-07:00

Meals for the month. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even dessert. Yum.

At first I found it quite disturbing when I realized that none of these meals come frozen; all the foods - some containing meat - are "soft canned." For days, I was extremely hesitant to take those first few bites of each meal, literally nauseated just thinking about it. With good reason - the food leaves much to be desired both in taste and size. I told my therapist the portion sizes are laughable and she said, "No, Michele, the portion sizes are normal."

Normal. Haven't been there for quite some time, if ever. Food has always been a problem. I remember when I was young, but way old enough to know better, my Dad called all three kids into the family room. I had a feeling I knew what was about to transpire. You see, I had finished off the Hostess cupcakes. In one sitting, sneakily I may add. Leaving zero for the rest of the family. The conversation went something like this:

Dad: "Who ate the cupcakes?"

Me: "Not me."

Steven: "Not me."

Lisa: "Not me."

Dad: "Well, someone ate the cupcakes and you three aren't going anywhere until I find out who."

Me: "Wasn't me."

Steven: (looking totally baffled as he was really very young) "Not me either."

Lisa: "I ate the cupcakes."

What?! This was my lucky day - a sibling taking the fall.

Dad: (knowing darn well who really ate the cupcakes) "Lisa, are you sure you ate the cupcakes; you know you will be punished."

Lisa: (big crocodile tears coming from her even bigger olive eyes) "Yes, I ate them."

OK, what kind of sister lets her younger sister - by a lot - take the punishment for something that, in all truthfulness, she did.

I do not even remember feeling guilty.

This, my friends, is the script of an addict. The first clue I was about to have a life-long problem regarding food, particularly cupcakes. (You might recall my recent winter obsession with vanilla bean cupcakes from Starbucks.)

In all seriousness, I never remember having a "normal" relationship with food. And because I was never overweight, I didn't really pay it much mind. Year after year of paying "it" no mind, however, has taken its toll. I can't recall a time since I gave birth to Christopher that I was of a normal weight. In fact, years ago, when an old neighbor saw our wedding album sitting out, she asked me whose it was. I forget that almost everyone in my daily life has no idea I used to be thin.

Now officially obese, I have no choice but to address the addiction. Head on. No excuses. With all my might. Oh, I've been around the block a time or two with the whole diet scene. Nothing has worked because I have not let it work. This time has to be different; a last resort of sorts.

So, I am on board with Nutrisystem. Not the yummiest food in the diet realm, but what is necessary at this point of my journey. I call it my "consequence" for making the choices that got me here. Something I must be accountable for and to.

The first week has gone relatively smooth, minus the severe nauseousness in the beginning and getting used to what a normal portion of food looks like. I weighed in six pounds less than I did the week before. Wink (who has been so loving and supportive of this endeavor) tells me it's a great start, but I continue to beat myself up because I didn't lose ten. I tend to have an "all or nothing" attitude that I know needs some adjustment. Gotta keep my therapist busy!

So, please keep me in your prayers for the strength I will undoubtedly need to get through this. And, if you ever wonder what Michele is having for dinner, take a look below and you'll have your answer!
Consequences.

wRiTeR's BlOcK

2009-06-18T18:20:00.002-07:00

I seem to be suffering from a severe case of writer's block. Ugh.

I think it could be attributed to my lack of food intake.

Seriously.

No, really!

More about that on Monday. . .

Graduation Day

2009-06-12T14:30:00.001-07:00

Don't blink

Just like that you're six years old and you take a nap and you

Wake up and you're twenty-five and your high school sweetheart becomes your wife

Don't blink

You just might miss your babies growing like mine did

Turning into moms and dads, next thing you know your better half

Of fifty years is there in bed

And you're praying God takes you instead

Trust me friend, a hundred years goes faster than you think

So don't blink

-Kenny Chesney, Don't Blink from Just Who I am: Poets & Pirates

It came faster than we could have ever imagined; it was over in the blink of an eye.

Graduation Day.

This just couldn't be.

After all, it seems it wasn't all that long ago Chris was "graduating" from Kindergarten. Just beginning his schooling career in earnest. His first grade classroom had "The Class of 2009" over the door so that every time you left the room you were gently reminded. But it didn't seem feasible, this year of 2009. We hadn't even hit the year 2000 yet!

All too quickly, he was graduating from the sixth grade D.A.R.E. program, leaving his grade school behind and moving on to junior high. Junior high ended without much fanfare, but dropping him off that first time at the entrance of his high school alternately sank my stomach and filled me with excitement. When did he get old enough to go to high school? Still, it seemed like the years would last forever. I can remember feeling the same way when I was in high school, thinking my time there would continue indefinitely.

And then it hit. Undeniably. Chris was truly ready to be done with high school. Looking so forward to beginning the next chapter.

But still, wasn't it just yesterday, I am quite sure it was, when all of this seemed so far away? "Trust me friend, a hundred years goes faster than you think. So don't blink."

Because we had 749 students to graduate, Hamilton's Graduation was held at Arizona State University, Wells Fargo Arena. Welcome Hamilton High School:

Note that not all the seniors even fit on the floor - some were up in the immediate bleachers behind the regular seating. The place was jam-packed:

The most touching tribute made was that of the Class of 2009 including twelve very special honorary graduates. Each honorary graduate had served in either the Army, Navy, Air Force, or Marines and was unable to graduate due to their service for our Country. We had veterans of World War 2, the Korean War, and Vietnam. How absolutely awesome it was to see them and their families finally celebrate this milestone.

Chris and his favorite sister:

Chris & Mom:

Chris with Grandmother, Grandad & Poppy:

The four graduates. For our party we, together with three other families, rented the Hamilton Aquatic Center which is adjacent to the High School. The kids have known each other since they were little. Lindsey, Chris, Elizabeth & Alycia:

Grandad, Grandmother, Poppy, Wink, Chris & Michele at the party:

Uncle Barney, Spencer, Chris, Aunt Cindy & Tayler Rae at the party:

The graduation board I put together for all four graduates:

Please be forewarned, anything that follows may contain bragging!

Chris did a great job during his high school years. He lettered in Academics (but isn't anywhere near as geeky as that sounds!):Graduated with High Honors:

Is an AP Scholar and an Arizona Academic Scholar.

Earned the AIMS Scholarship to any State school as well as the Wildcat Excellence Award from the University of Arizona, the NAU President's Scholarship from Northern Arizona University, and the Provost's Scholarship from Arizona State University.

And the winner is. . .Arizona State University, Fulton School of Engineering, to study biomedical engineering.

A great job indeed, Chris, a great job indeed!

Top Ten Reasons. . .A Walk to Remember

2009-06-08T13:41:00.007-07:00

Disclaimer: First of all, fair warning that this post is quite long. Secondly, remember that these "Top Tens" are not in any particular order, just a way to share all the fabulous memories we made while in Ohio last summer.

A walk down memory lane. Cliche phrase, maybe. But one of which I will never tire. Sounds of childhood play as if coming from an old AM transistor radio. Senses awakened. Touching fragments of the past, something tangible to prove it indeed existed. Smelling the fragrance of years gone by, effectively bringing me back to a simpler time and place. Scenes flash before my eyes, forcing me to concentrate on staying in the present. A walk of remembrance.

It had been 11 years since I visited the place I grew up. I was anxious to soak in everything I could about my beloved old town. With eyes wide open, I began my quest to see all that was and all that it's become.

Where cornfields once grew all summer long, until their peak of the early Autumn harvest, development now sits. Chain restaurants and national retail establishments are making their presence known. Under new ownership, the mall is falling into disrepair. Beautiful old homes, filled with character and history, are left abandoned and boarded up. Some of the land where the Youngstown Sheet & Tube Company provided work for so many, for so long, has been renovated in hopes of improving the area. They've done a great job. Main thoroughfares are being widened to accommodate increased traffic. Neighborhoods once new are now enjoying lush, mature landscaping. They seem so much smaller than I remember. Where the abundant wooded forests grew wild, new homes now stand. But, on the other hand, where an open field devoted to boarding horses once stood, the forest has taken over. Oh how I loved driving past those horses, dreaming of the day I would have one of my own. I would call her "Shasta." Miles away, into the country surroundings of my Aunt's neighborhood, even the pasture that sparked my life-long fondness of cows has disappeared into the brush.

Much has changed, yet so much has stayed the same. "Mom and Pop" restaurants still rule, staunchly withstanding the emergence of chain restaurants. Stand tall and keep fighting! The Sparkle grocery store stands fairly untouched right next to the equally untouched Cornersburg Pizza. Taking up residence just a block or so down the road from its original location, Cornersburg Pharmacy, now called Family Discount Drug Store, still has that old-time drug store feel. The Catholic churches of which I am familiar are still every bit as amazing as I remember. The narrow neighborhood streets still hug you as you drive through. People take such pride in their landscape; trees and bushes meticulously trimmed, mulch freshly piled, and annuals brimming over.

With my Dad in tow, Caly and I were off to explore these places of which I will always hold dear in my heart. It was great to have my Dad's perspective, things he knew that I had not yet heard. First we traveled into Campbell to see where he and Aunt Rosey grew up and where Grandpa and Grams lived throughout my childhood. 15 Blackburn. Row houses that served as company housing for those who worked at the Youngstown Sheet and Tube Company. Just a street over, the row houses have been refurbished, but this set was left to deteriorate. Judging by the trash that has been left behind, I am sure they are being used for unsavory acts by desperate people. Units are peppered here and there by some remaining tenants, but I am not sure if they actually own them or have just laid claimed to them through squatting.

Willy lives next door to 15 Blackburn. My Dad had told me all about Willy as he had come in contact with him on the several occasions he has visited his childhood home. At first glance, Willy can be somewhat intimidating. Especially for this suburban neighborhood girl and her daughter who have never explored in an area quite this lively. Self-proclaimed crazy, Willy is a sweetheart. I immediately felt at ease with him. After all, what exactly is normal anyway? And if you are willing to admit your issues right off the bat, you are A-OK with me! Not so sure Willy is a legitimate tenant, but I don't much care. I like having him there.

15 Blackburn - middle house - there used to be a stone porch rail. One of my fondest memories is sitting on the porch glider, playing with a bucketful of lead Amish figurines. I also remember playing "Mr. Magoo" - a board game - on that same porch and in the basement on colder days. We couldn't go down to the basement because, obviously, there is no electricity for lighting.

Row houses to the left - 15 Blackburn on far right, last one with stone:

What is left of the kitchen. Pretty amazing that my Grandpa built the cabinets and they are still there after all these years of destruction. From the kitchen looking into the living room:
The very narrow stairs:
Grams and Grandpa's bedroom. I do not remember if they had it pink or if a subsequent owner painted it pink. My Grandpa also made these cabinets.
The room shared by my Dad and Aunt Rosey:
Next my Dad navigated us into Struthers, 681 5th Street. The home where my Mom and her sisters grew up and Papa lived until the late 1970's. Some of the warmest fuzzies of my childhood. Unfortunately, as you can tell by the pictures, the house has been left to deteriorate. I so badly wanted to go inside, but it was well secured. I guess that is a good thing. I did peek into the windows and found the inside to be in a fair amount of destruction. The kitchen seemed to have the very same wallpaper I remember as a child, worse for the wear, but none-the-less, the same. If I had been able to stay in Ohio longer (the whole summer would have been nice!), I would have definitely called the real estate company for a tour.
I remember this little porch area being enclosed when I was a child. There was a white picket fence gate when my mom was little.
The window facing the garage and the dormer window are from the bedroom my my Mom, her twin sister, Aunt Sylvia, and Aunt Dee Dee shared. It is also the room I got to sleep in when I stayed there. I loved that room! There was a little door leading to storage (with many treasures to be unearthed) on on the back wall of the room and the window facing the street was a window seat with storage underneath. Man oh man, they made such wonderful nooks and crannies back then! I do hope someone buys this house and restores it to its former beauty. I wish I could pick it up and take it home!
Meandering through Austintown, we came across the duplex on Rhode Island where my parents lived when I was born:
We didn't stay on Rhode Island very long after I was born; our next home being on Lancaster (in Austintown as well). We lived in the Lancaster house (below) until I was about five. I can still recall a few memories from that home; although I am unsure if they are actually from memory or from stories and photos. "Running away" (and subsequently being punished), the teenage girl next door, swinging on my swing set. Yes, in my four-year old mind, I actually thought by crossing the street (absolutely forbidden) with well-packed accessories in tow, I was running away. And I proceeded to tell everyone exactly what I was doing. I'd like to think I got a little more clever with time and experience. 4019 Shelbourne, where we lived from the time I was five through the middle of 3rd Grade, has memories of mud pies, skinned knees, a hurt bird, insisting on seeing Santa's reindeer on the roof (maybe explaining my obsession with reindeer), choking on a quarter (no, I have no idea why I was trying swallow a quarter), pretending David Cassidy was my husband, and peeing my pants the very first day we moved in.

5771 Sharon Drive. The favorite. For almost nine years, from mid-3rd Grade to October of my Senior year, this was truly home. In every sense of the word. Cupcakes waiting when we got home from school (and I wonder where my cupcake fetish comes from?!). Sitting by the front dining room window watching storms come in. By that same window, feeling both the warmth of the heating register and the cold from the bitter winter - what a sensation! My very pink room. Homemade walkie-talkie chats and a clothesline with notes going back and forth with Joann who was right next door (for those times I was grounded). Hanging out my window talking with friends. Sneaking out the downstairs window to. . .oh, wait a minute, the statute of limitations might not be up! (and why, in the name of vanilla bean cupcakes, did we not just use one of the three doors leading outside?) The most fabulous front and back porches to linger on. Shucking corn on that back porch. Eating at the picnic table in the backyard in the summer. Picking clothes off the clothesline and having beetle bugs attached to them. Easters celebrated with the grass finally peeking through the snow. Harry the squirrel. The cardinals and blue jays (not baseball teams!). Catching frogs and minnows in the creek. Exploring the woods. Planting in the garden. Finding a garter snake. The hustle and bustle of having friends and family in the house. Feeling safe.

The original Sparkle Market in Cornersburg. I still remember how careful my Mom was while grocery shopping. She used the "envelope method" before there was a formal name for it. She would drag us all (ugh!) to several different stores, depending on where that week's deals were, an envelope of cash for each store. She made wonderful, home cooked meals each and every night of the week out of her budget conscious finds.

St. Christine's Church. Baptism, 1st Communion, and Confirmation; and Sunday School in between. The best summertime festival ever. Jeanne and I getting stink eye from Father Kelly during Mass (we deserved it).

St. Nicholas Church in Struthers. Mom, Aunt Sylvia, and Aunt Dee Dee grew up in this Church and my Mom & Dad were married here:

Saint Lucy's in Campbell where my Aunt Sylvia currently attends and where we had my Mom's Memorial Service:

A summer I'll always remember. A walk I'll never forget.

Top Ten Reasons. . .Kennywood Park

2009-06-07T15:43:00.002-07:00

I thought it might be a good idea to get in step to complete those Top Ten Reasons I loved going Home last summer since this summer is knocking at the door.

So I continue on with Reason #4, Kennywood Park in West Mifflin, Pennsylvania.

One hour and 34 minutes from Youngstown - give or take an HOUR! Especially when you are following a confused Mario & Michael Andretti (aka my Dad and Brother). As soon as my Dad knew for sure Caly and I and Steven, Dana, and Alexis were coming to Ohio in July, he knew he wanted to get us all together at Kennywood Park. So, a few days into our visit, the adventure began - from sun-up to sun-down.

This is the look Alexis reserves for her Aunt Michele. . .
. . .but she looooves Caly:

On the favorite Frog Jumper ride:
A much happier Alexis (I don't think she saw me taking the picture!):Alexis loved the rides, period!Caly actually loved the Paratrooper ride; but by the look on her face, you would never guess it. She purposefully made that face every time she came around to where I was to make me think she was going to be sick. Why? Because I didn't think it was a good idea for her to go on the ride in the first place, thinking she would get sick. I guess she showed me.Steven, Dana, and Alexis braved the log ride. I told you that little girl loves rides!

Apparently, this is Kenny the Kangaroo (at least I think he is a kangaroo), mascot of Kennywood: Leo is a garbage can that talks when you "feed" it. I had to take a picture of him because it is the same Leo that I grew up with at Idora Park.Just loved the vintage signage:Poppy, Dana, Alexis & Caly:Caly with Poppy:

We were so tired by the end of the day, but it was a day worth being tired for!

You might be a redneck if. . .

2009-05-22T11:25:00.004-07:00

. . .your son parks his starts-but-doesn't-go-far car in the side gravel while it waits for its trip to the mechanic.

Our neighbors must looooove us. I am sure the you've-been-naughty letter from the Home Owners Association is being typed as we speak. (Even though it will have been there for less than 24 hours, I bet my first-born, we will get one!)

P.S. No offense meant towards rednecks or home association people as we have friends of both persuasions : )

Where would you rather be? Part 2

2009-05-19T08:59:00.002-07:00

My simple answer to that question is:

Anywhere it is not 100-plus degrees for 14 days straight in MAY - yes, MAY!!!

UGH!!!!!!!!!

Happy Mother's Day Mom. . .

2009-05-09T09:03:00.003-07:00

. . .there are no words to say how much we miss you.

Our Anniversary

2009-05-02T09:41:00.008-07:00

Distance matters not my love,
on this memorable, special day.

For you are with me to my soul,
and in my heart you stay.

Now, just to irritate the kids, here is a silly rhyme - it's not as much fun without you doing your part though : (

On this special day in May,
I say,
you're at the Bay,
with J,
you play.

Where you stay,
skies are gray.
maybe a little sun ray.

But hey,
I say nay,
to you being away,
on this special day in May.

To the music we cannot sway,
we cannot make shapes in Play-doh clay,
we cannot eat on a tray,
we cannot yell hip hip hooray.

So I sit here missing you,
on this special day,
in May.

Anyway (not part of the silly rhyme), thank you Sweetheart for the beautiful flowers and note. You truly hold the key to my heart as well.All my love, michele

OK Autumn. . .

2009-04-30T13:09:00.003-07:00

. . .fine. . .you win. Lay on the kitchen table if you want to.

But the counters are absolutely off limits!

Eighteen

2009-04-23T08:25:00.023-07:00

I don't know how it happened or where the time went, but at precisely 9:00 PM on Monday, April 20th, Chris turned 18.

Looking through pictures from over the years, I could hardly believe the little boy staring back at me was about to take this introductory step into manhood. Surely not the baby boy in his oversize, purple hat:
Or in this classic pose at six months with a dollop for hair:
Or the baby in his very first Halloween costume:
Or the toddler just learning to talk on the phone:
Certainly not this little guy with Barney on his mind:
Or this handsome young man learning to drive:
Or this little boy with his Alexander Bunny:
Nope, can't be. Eighteen seemed so far away.

But, indeed, time's tide washed upon our shore, year after year. The little boy, now 18.

It was time to celebrate this unimaginable milestone. Chris's very good friend Stevie (and her mom) generously offered up her family's restaurant, Rustler's Rooste, which overlooks the city of Phoenix and the beautiful Pointe Resort. Wow - what a view! These pictures show what it looked like from where our party was sitting - I wish I would have gone on the patio and taken more pics while it was still light:
Wink and I decorated the table with balloons, candy, and pictures of Chris from over the years. The picture thing was Wink's idea - I can't believe it did not even cross my mind - where has my creativity gone?! Thanks Wink!
The menu made special for Chris's dinner party:

The birthday boy: Table for 11:

Given Chris's love for all things country (read with sarcasm), Stevie's mom Cathy insisted he wear a cowboy hat while everyone sang Happy Birthday:Chris & Stevie:Chris & Shelby: Chris & Drea: Chris & Drea a few years back:Bryson & Vickie:

The girls & Chris - Jordan, Stevie, Chris, Vickie, Shelby & Drea: The boys & Chris - Bryson, Chris, Corey & Shane:

And the whole group:A great time was had by all! I highly recommend a trip up the mountain to enjoy this amazing restaurant. Thank you Stevie, Cathy & Rustler's Rooste for making Chris's 18th birthday celebration special.

Senior Prom

2009-04-21T13:40:00.018-07:00

Do those two words make you giddy with memories or sick to your stomach?

I would have to say, unfortunately, my experience was the latter. We had moved away -far, far away - in the middle of my senior year. Promises were made. A promise to come back for Senior Prom. The dress was bought. Beautiful and princess-like; delicate white, slightly puffy. I made the promise and I broke the promise. The dress was returned.

I was asked to go at the new school. I said yes. Then I said no. Another promise broken. I wasn't so good at promises back then.

Fast forward 26 years (yes, I shutter as I type that number!). Another Senior Prom. This time, our son's. In preparation, I push away the slight sickness in my stomach and look forward to this celebration of his. A milestone of sorts. One more month, graduation.

A while back we made a promise to Chris. To bring him back to the life he loved in Arizona after a dismal 4th grade year in Albuquerque. He was so happy to be home. Almost eight years later, home is certainly where his heart is. Senior Prom ready to unfold. Graduation around the corner. Arizona State University this Fall. Chris is home.

In between three performances of Caly's, we headed out to two different picture taking venues. One with great friends he has known since kindergarten and fifth grade; one that included more great friends he was to attend Prom with. What a flurry of activity!

When he put this hat on, I about had a fit. As you can see from the hats in the background, he has one for every occasion. He did not wear the hat to Prom; he was just messing with his Mom.
First round of pictures with Lindsey, Elizabeth & Alycia:

A look back at Elizabeth, Alycia & Chris in 1st grade (we met Lindsey in 5th grade):

This one includes dear friend Kelsey as well and I believe it might be from kindergarten (Kelsey is one year older):

Elizabeth's tattoo represents her passion - building houses through the Mexico missions:

Then we were off to take pictures with his Prom group. Here is Chris getting his boutonniere pinned on by Kaitlyn:
Chris and date Kaitlyn:
Kaitlyn, Chris, Vickie & Bryson

Chris & Bryson:
Chris & Stevie:
Chris & Shelby:
Chris with Drea (left)& Jordan:
And years ago - Drea in the middle of this pic, Chris on the left, Drea's brother Steven on the right:
The whole Prom group:

The invitation:
Gratefully, everyone made it home safe and sound. And with their very own memories to look back upon when they share Senior Prom with their children.

Post Script: I'm much better at keeping promises these days.

Easter Sunday

2009-04-13T10:24:00.008-07:00

A great day with family.

Dinner (always yummy!) and celebration at the Scottsdale Heaths.

Grandmother & Grandad with their grandchildren:

Spencer, 17; Tayler Rae, 16; Chris, 18; Caly, 13. (All the kids have April birthdays!)

Caly with Isabella (my sister-in-law Cindy's great niece - she's going to kill me, that makes her sound old - but she's not, really!!!) - Caly has met her match! She now knows how exhausting it was to keep up with her at that age. Bella is one of the smartest almost 3-year olds I've ever met.

Things seem to have come full circle (and make me feel really old!) as Bella's mom Selena used to play with Caly when Caly was Bella's age and now Caly is playing with her daughter! Wow.

Here is Caly with Selena and Richard's newest addition, Xavier. He is such a good and content baby. Can you tell Caly just loves kids?

Barney and Cindy's beautiful Bougainvillea bush (please ignore the garbage can in the background - my eyes are getting really bad not to notice that when I took the picture!):

Bougainvillea blooms close up:

Chris and Caly, Easter 2009:

Hope your Easter was magnificent!

13 Going on 30. . .

2009-04-12T08:30:00.019-07:00

. . .not the movie, but real life. Caly has officially entered "teendom," which effectively renders us a two teen household. Ugh. And if 12 was 12 going on 21, 13 going on 30 sounds about right.

When do you know your birthday is going to be fabulous? For a newly 13-year-old, it is a day that does not include school! I'm not sure what the politically correct wording for the day off was; but in my book, it was Good Friday.

We started off the day shopping. In desperate need of summer clothing, I thought it would be a great day to accomplish this exhausting feat. We actually agreed on most of the clothing! Yeah, bonus!

Blizzard at Dairy Queen (Caly), Frappuccino at Starbucks (me) was lunch - hey, it was her birthday!

Her brother painstakingly picked out and wrapped (cough, cough, gag, gag) the "peace" themed shirt, earrings, and necklace for his beloved sister. When do they start buying their own presents for each other any way? Oh well, Caly loved them nonetheless.

This next gift (up against one of the Tiffany blue walls Wink and I painted as a surprise) has a really cool story behind it. There is this blog/family website that I have followed for years and finally got up enough courage one day to comment on one of her posts and let her know how much her blog inspired me to start one. I was so hoping she would not think I was some sort of weird stalker person. Long story short, she didn't; and we are now blogger friends. One of the things that keeps me glued to her blog is we seem to have a lot going on that parallell each other. One being that her daughter, who is only a year older than Caly, also wanted an Audrey Hepburn/Breakfast at Tiffany's themed bedroom. So, miles apart, here we were both working on these dream rooms.

Well,Cheryl happened to receive two of these beautiful Audrey Hepburn Breakfast at Tiffany's prints, professionally framed, because they kept sending her one with the wrong matting and finally told her to just keep both after many attempts of the whole back and forth thing. My new friend immediately thought of us and offered to give us the picture for only what it cost her to ship it to us. I was so excited that she thought of me and Caly and couldn't wait to give it to Caly on her birthday. Caly was thrilled with the gift and was also happy Cheryl didn't think her mom was some strange stalker woman. So this picture is for you Cheryl - thanks again for making Caly's birthday extra special!

Presents were opened as soon as Wink walked in the door from work and we were off to Amazing Jake's to spend the next 6 hours with 16 13-year-olds. Amazing Jake's is an indoor (important in Arizona!) play area that includes rides, bowling, lazer tag, rock climbing, and video/carnival games. Luckily, our friends John and Kristie hung out with us for the last 4 hours to help pass time. It was a looooong night! The girls had a great time though - a good place to keep that age group busy without needing too much assistance. Here is the whole group of them getting ready for bowling:And Caly right in the middle of having a fabulous birthday:

But the night wasn't over yet - Caly got to have one friend sleep over. A hard choice, I know; but she doesn't get to see Stephanie as much as she would like as they live a ways away, so Stephanie it was! Here they are ready for bed (yeah, right!):

And according to Caly, "This was the best birthday ever!"

My question is this: If 16 is sweet, what is 13?

I'm not so sure I want to know the answer to that question!

Back in Black

2009-04-09T06:25:00.003-07:00

Little Blue got a paint job and is looking mighty fine. Bryson did it all by himself at school. As you can tell, Little Blue (Black?) is being well cared for!

And it is OK if you are still humming Back in Black by AC/DC. : )

We've Got Flowers!

2009-04-07T08:42:00.017-07:00

After a dry spell of about five years, I finally planted flowers! I love to garden, so I'm not quite sure how all that time slipped away; but I am thrilled to have those colorful blossoms smiling at me every time I open the front door (which I've been doing a lot just to see them again) or come home from somewhere.

I decided to go a bit more wildflower looking than I usually do and was pleased with the outcome. Between the flower bed and my bucket container, I used purple Osteospermums, Cosmos, violet Verbenas, "Aromatica Rose Pink" Nemesias, Zinnias, burgandy Argyranthemums, California Poppies, and "Wildside" Sunscape Daisies. I hope they defy the heat and bloom like there is no tomorrow! Remember, during late fall/winter we plant pansies, petunias, geraniums, etc. - what is normal for summer everywhere else. Summer is brutal to our blooming beauties, so keep your fingers crossed for me!
I used these colorful yellow/orange ice plants with the succulent my neighbor gave to me. I love the way the two colors play off of each other.

This was my Papa's bucket that now serves as a favorite planter. I think he would laugh to see what we treasure of his!
We finally had three Cala Lilies come up - it will be too hot for them in about a month and the plant will need to be cut to the ground, going dormant until late Fall.
We are truly amazed at the show our Bird of Paradise bushes have provided us with this year. We have never seen so many blooms!
And this little guy was Caly's family tree project back in January. More ice plants around him.
Some pics when he was the family tree. She chose a Blue Italian Cypress to represent herself because she is partially Italian and loves the color blue. She used birds to signify a person still living and angel wings if they have passed.
Wink's side:
My side:
She received a 100%!

I got tagged!

2009-04-03T08:56:00.007-07:00

Not in the graffiti sense of the word, but a blog tag. Yeah!

Since I don't have very many friends that have blogs, I don't get to participate in those cute little tags that go around. But, my new blogger friend Cheryl (ironically from Albuquerque!) tagged me a few days ago. So here it goes:

My 6th picture in my 6th file is:Widnie and Allie by our pool. It was taken when the Williamson family stopped by on their move from Oregon to Texas last May. They are dear, dear friends of my sister.

I now tag my sister Lisa, Jana, Amber, and Nancy to post their 6th picture from their 6th file.

Further proof. . .

2009-03-27T08:21:00.005-07:00

. . .that pine trees belong only in the forest. . .

So much for our nice, new, clean rock:

Big wind storm last night, big mess this morning. Ugh.

It's been one year!

2009-03-25T10:54:00.003-07:00

Happy Anniversary little blog : ) You have provided much to me. Here's to many more!

Though our walk was short. . .

2009-03-24T07:07:00.013-07:00

. . .good friends blessed our every step.

Indeed our time was limited at Caly's previous school, but certainly not our friendships. Circumstances weren't always perfect, but God provided for the imperfect through the support of a few angels here on earth. My peeps, as I so fondly refer to them.

Bonding through pick-up in the parking lot and volleyball season, moms of children who befriended Caly also became my friends.

Caly with Bridget and little sis Claudia:
and Brittany:
and Christina:
The whole group of them, including Brittany's twin brother Dakota:
Oddly enough, I did not go into a new school looking for friendships. I was tired. Tired of going through all the motions of making new friends. Remember, Caly has been in five different schools in four years; not counting our short bout with homeschooling. I was numb to new friendships.

But our plans are not always that of the Lord's and I am so thankful He looks out for us when we are too tired to do so for ourselves. If He hadn't, how could I have possibly ever wanted to rush to the school to get my parking space every day. And wait for these lovely ladies to join me in old Betsey:

Nothing special about my van. In fact, my van was most probably the oldest of the bunch, regularly non-hygienic, and a little worse for the wear. But none of that mattered as we piled in to chat about good days, bad days, and everything in between.

Typically, little sis Claudia would stay in her van, parked close but out of earshot:

And we'd all laugh every time, as predicted, Dakota would be the first one out (yes, we are easily amused):The whole group on Caly's last day in December:A whole quarter has gone by without the everyday comfort of parking lot bliss. The pick up situation at Caly's new school doesn't much allow for friendships to be formed; not that I'm looking, but you know that Lord of ours! Unfortunately, the drop-off/pick up at this new school can be downright volatile. Nasty, I tell you, just plain nasty!

I long for those moments of quiet talk with the moms. Kind of like the calm before the daily afternoon storm. And Caly was particularly missing her friends on her last day of Spring Break, so. . .

We drove off yesterday afternoon and assumed our regular position in the parking lot of the old school. Soon, I had a van full of familiar faces and fond friendship. My peeps. I've missed you.

Bye Bye Little Blue

2009-03-21T12:08:00.018-07:00

Today we said goodbye to a staple in our life - our little blue truck. Little Blue has been around since before our kiddos' births. A great find by my Dad when he was in the business. Only six months old, hardly driven. Wink loved Little Blue and was impeccable with his maintenance, allowing Little Blue to be in tip top shape for his 20 years. Yep, a 1989 Toyota Pick-Up truck, still very much alive and kickin'!

Little Blue safely transported us in our annual few days of blizzardy Albuquerque winters:

He provided for Chris and Wink's first camping and hunting trips together. He moved whatever needed moving. He hauled firewood to warm our living room:

He gave Dad and Wink father-son time:And some brother time as well:

He loved getting dirty:

But mostly remained clean:

Chris's first vehicle to drive. Chris's first vehicle to back into another vehicle. Chris's first vehicle to get pulled over by a police officer (nothing major, thank goodness). Chris's first vehicle to test the world. Little Blue took great care of our baby boy.

Luckily, Little Blue didn't go far. Chris's best friend Bryson (well, I guess technically, Bryson's Mom) purchased him from us this morning. Couldn't have gone to a better person - Bryson so fits Little Blue.

They've many a time taken him through the mud, just as his father before him:

We've known Bryson wanted to buy it for a while now, but today was finally the day. . .

he really became Bryson's:

Godspeed little truck. . .please keep Bryson safe.

A Rockin and a Rollin. . .

2009-03-16T05:47:00.011-07:00

Wink, the kids, and I spent the last two days preparing the yard for rock. Sounds easy; yes, I know. However, because the people who owned the house before us had a boulder and river rock fetish, we were literally rockin and a rollin all weekend. Not to mention the mess of five full-grown pine trees. When we bought the house, the pine trees reminded us of "up North" and we were charmed. About two years into the "charm" of it all, we realized that pine trees belong in the forest, not our backyard. What a mess! I am sure our poor neighbor, who gets all mess and none of the charm, would agree.

Oh, wait a minute, back up a bit. Did I say "Wink, THE KIDS, and I spent the last two days preparing the yard for rock? Ha. Let me rephrase. Wink and I spent the last two days preparing the yard for rock and our two whining children moaned, groaned, and made faces straight out of a horror movie while they worked a total of about 2 hours per day (and that is being generous). OK, Caly worked about 20 minutes on the second day. Sometimes you just have to weigh which is the lesser of the evils; and by the second day, Caly in the house was a much better scenario.

I may have lost some of those who do not live in the southwest USA with "preparing the yard for rock." In other parts of the country, you would be preparing your yard for grass, I know. But here in the Southwest, we are encouraged to conserve water (we live in the desert) by using mostly rock in our yards. Hence, we are waiting for the first of our two deliveries of 5/8" Cactus Red rock from our good friend's quarry. (Thank you , thank you, thank you Susan & Terry for the generous deal you pulled off for us - we so appreciate your kindness!)

Chris and his friend Bryson (our second son) will be doing the back-breaking work of shoveling and raking the rock in perfectly precise 1-inch coverage. Hmm. . .I don't think so either, but that's what we asked them to do. Don't feel too sorry for them, this is paid service, plus meals!

I, of course, wanted to take pictures of the boys working, but thought it best not to push my luck (I'm not Irish). So, instead, below are some pictures of the completed prep work.

I didn't think to take pictures before we started, but this is what it looked like after we removed the boulders, river rock, pine cones and needles that were scattered about - not much decorative rock left. Notice the boulders are now located in the planter. What a job.
The next picture shows the side yard planter looking towards the back yard. In between the boulders and the river rock I will be planting Lantana to give the area a little color.
I carefully trimmed the pony palms:
And Wink trimmed up the orange tree, being careful not to aggravate the bees who were enjoying the new blossoms that smell so wonderful.
Finally, the new rock. As you can see, it was delivered literally at the crack of dawn.The boys finished much of the rock, but Wink had to complete about a ton of it (out of 6) when he came home from work. Apparently, the boys had "plans." You know, the thing we parents give up the minute our bundles of joy arrive. The second heap of rocks will be delivered on Thursday - let's hope the boys' "plans" allow them to finish the front yard by themselves this time!

I'll have more pictures of the finished front and back yards when the house goes on the market.

More updates coming soon!

The torch is passed. . .

2009-03-09T10:27:00.003-07:00

. . .to Caly. She is her own Projectzilla! Here's a picture of Caly's project. . .done all by herself:

Way to go Caly, you're a chip off the old block!

Somewhere between point A and point B. . .

2009-03-07T10:32:00.017-07:00

. . .seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. A fairly accurate description of our current state with regard to getting the house market ready by March 26th (Happy Birthday Julie!). Here is a sneak preview of the finished product:

For those of you who have seen this cabinet, year after year, filled to the brim with unorganized scrapbook supplies, this may surprise you! It surprised me.Through generous Christmas gifts of the monetary sort, we were able to purchase some new goodies in which to stage the house. Two of these yummy pillows now flank the living room love seat:On the living room coffee table (still needing a few antique books for height):A glimpse of the new mirror set hanging over the piano (remember, this is just a sneak peek!):The big, beautiful, red clock hanging on the dining room wall (after we removed the large mirror that had been there since we bought the house and put our hutch in storage):A vignette for the kitchen wall:And for the kitchen counter:The fireplace painted anew:Poppies fill the air in the family room:A "plate" display behind the bar:Candles and their holders:A hallway that finally has paint to match the rest of the house:How nice our black bed looks up against the new paint (and a peek at our new bedside lamps)!The crisp lines of a fresh ceiling meeting the now colorful walls:Christopher is not all that thrilled to have given up his room decor (it was a really cool room), but he is fond of his new bedding:Horrific faux painting and 1st layer of border in our master bedroom that Wink and I had to take down before it could be painted (please note that none of the following borders/paint jobs were our decorating mistakes - we inherited them with the house):

A lovely 2nd layer of border:A third layer of border that is really paint over a tacky southwest border - I am not quite sure what this is supposed to be:In all, we had to peel off 5 (if you include the above paint job thing) borders. We had absolutely no idea.

We got rid of all remaining vertical blinds (but kept the cat):

And hopefully we'll have new blinds installed next week - the nudist colony look is so unnerving.

So, what do we have left?

Caly's room. . .turned out to be quite the job. We had to hire someone to sand off the "castle" walls and re-texture. This picture shows where they had to fill, like, 10,000 holes from the huge bulletin/wipe/fabric/chalk board that covered the only wall that didn't have plaster added:

Caly's new bed flanked by the newly textured wall (Caly's room gets painted on Monday):The red room has morphed back into a temporary storage room (reminiscent of when we first moved in) - it will be painted on Tuesday - and then the interior painting will be done. Two weeks and two days - from ceiling to walls to baseboards - ugh - I'll be so happy when this is finished. We also will be getting new carpet for this room (thanks to my red paint spillage and Caly's fruit punch incident).We need to fill a few more boxes for storage and get the ones out of here that are already filled:

And then we concentrate on the outside. New rock. Oleanders. Painting. Seasonal flowers. Clean-up.

And then it starts all over again with a new home!

Where would you rather be?

2009-03-02T09:28:00.006-07:00

Arizona vs. back East? This is a picture from today's news. Believe it or not, I would rather be back East! It was 90 degrees here yesterday. We could have swam in the pool had we so desired. I don't do the pool before June or after August - just isn't right.

Since we visited the Grand Canyon this past summer, I thought I would share what our winters can look like up North. Not in our area, but within a few hours drive. Unfortunately, our winter here in town was a bit on the mild side and now we seem to be on the fast track to summer. Ugh!!! US Airways, take me away!

I bring you winter at the Grand Canyon:
*All pictures are from the Arizona Republic.

***House update: We are on week two of getting the entire house - ceilings, walls, and baseboards - painted. Although I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, there is still so much to do. Our large storage unit is almost filled to the brim; I hope it has enough room for what I have left to pack. Over spring break we will be finishing up outside. Our goal date for the house to hit the market is March 26th. Please keep us in your prayers for a speedy sale. : )

Goodbye Margaret

2009-02-25T14:21:00.014-07:00

If you are following our new home search (which we really shouldn't be doing as our house is not even on the market yet), Margaret has a contract out on her. No, not in the hit man sense; but from a real person wanting to purchase her. Someone other than us. We are sad, but acknowledge Margaret must not be what the good Lord had in mind for our new home.

Wink and I both knew when her price dropped by almost half (literally, from $140,000 to $75,0000) that she would not last long. Not long enough for us to get this house on the market, let alone sold.

So we bid adieu to Margaret, with a little inspiration from another Margaret (Wise Brown) who wrote the classic children's book Goodbye Moon.

In a sweet little town, there is a perfect family home with a red door, and red shutters, and an entry. . .

Boasting the most wonderful vestibule.

And a kitchen ready to be installed.

And an office awaiting creative ventures.

And a great room with such potential.

And a wall of window seats longing to be curled into.

And stairs that lead to a basement so rare.

And two basement bedrooms, teen and storage rooms too.

And a master bedroom tucked far, far away from all the noise down below.

And a shop for all of Wink's tools to go.

Goodbye little town.

Goodbye perfect family home.

Goodbye door.
Goodbye shutters.
Goodbye vestibule.
Goodbye kitchen. Goodbye office.
Goodbye great room. Goodbye wall of window seats. Goodbye stairs.

Goodbye two basement bedrooms.

Goodbye one basement teen room.

Goodbye basement storage.

Goodbye master bedroom.

Goodbye shop.

Goodbye Margaret everywhere.

American Idols Live. . .

2009-02-20T20:00:00.040-07:00

. . .in Arizona for their very first show of the 2008 tour! (The concert was in July - remember, I'm trying to catch up before summer rolls around again - ugh!) We paid quite a hefty sum to be in so-so seats for this privilege. In fact, I was quite shocked that they asked, and we paid, such a price. Our one concert per year turned into one concert every two years just like that!

If you subtract the bazillions of pre-teen girls screaming their heads off, ours included; AND the air guitar challenge, the concert was pretty good. It was fun to see Caly so excited over her favorite, David Archuleta. I didn't mind seeing my favorite, Michael Johns, either. And Wink was thrilled when Carly took the stage. I think he liked Kristy Lee Cook (the blond with the body that wouldn't quit) too, but he swears not. I'm thinking otherwise Wink!

So, now, with the new season of American Idol already in full swing, I finally bring you a recap of last year's top ten:

10. . .Chikezie. Loved him, great personality. Old-time songs favorite.
9. . .Ramiele Malubay. Drove us crazy because we didn't think she should have made it this far. I have to say she was much better at the concert than during the competition. 8. . .Michael Johns. My favorite, hands down. He was reminiscent of Jim Morrison from The Doors. Loooooved him - minor, middle-age crush here. He's from Australia. 7. . .Kristy Lee Cook. Body that wouldn't quit. So-so talent. Country music is her thing.
6. . .Carly Smithson. Wink's favorite. Very cute rocker girl from Ireland. Thought she should have gone further in the competition. 5. . .Brooke White. Loved, loved, loved her! Had the best folk song talent. Just the sweetest, most sincere contestant ever. And she is originally from Mesa!4. . .Jason Castro. Obnoxious. So mad he got so far with his "whatever" attitude. Complete opposite of Brooke White. Happy his brother did not get in this season - his whole family seems to have the same, arrogant attitude. He did sing "Over the Rainbow" well though.3. . .Syesha Mercado. Very cute, talented girl. Would be a great Broadway star. Loved when she sang the jazzy blues!
2. . .David Archuleta. Caly's favorite. Very good singer - can see him doing major musical theater productions.
1. . .David Cook. My favorite to win the competition. Loved his modern rock style. A really nice guy.
And, of course, our little star:American Idols give back. . .My favorite, Wink's favorite:The finale:

We haven't really watched much of this season so far. A mix of not caring for the new format and just too darn busy. But we sure had fun with the three seasons prior. An American dream realized for these young performers!

Gratefulness. . .through the eyes of Mexico

2009-02-17T11:31:00.004-07:00

And aren't they just the most beautiful eyes to view the Mission through?

Wink and Chris and the entire Mexico Mission crew arrived home safely late yesterday afternoon. Coming up will be the "On Gratefulness" post that will include this year's mission. But, for now:

And all the other angels here on earth that transformed lives and had their lives transformed. Again.

Will you. . .

2009-02-15T18:44:00.022-07:00

Caly and I had an awesome time being each other's valentines! Since she had given much thought to this day -girls only as the boys were in Mexico - all I had to do was the driving. Oh, and pay. After a quick trip to the Studio, we were off to a little place in downtown Chandler called:

Sorry for the blurry picture; I just had to include it, princess crown, princess, and all. We liked the ambiance and personalized attention at Mind Over Splatter, but both agreed the selection is much better at the larger pottery places. Still, we happily spent hours creating, talking, and laughing at each other as we both tried to make the other "conform" to the other one's ideas.

We worked together on this plate:
I chose from all these colors:
Finally settling on "Pink-A-Boo":
And Caly came up with the idea to use a bee in place of "Be" in "Be My Valentine". Both being OCD (for real), we still had a few "words" on what should be where and how many times it needed painted; but nothing too ferocious.

Here were all our pieces before:

Caly painting:

Caly's pieces after painting:

"Showstoppers" is the name of the performance group to which Caly belongs. Because she used a special "bursting" paint, this piece will look much different after it is fired in the kiln.

Her second piece is a blue and white tile that will have black ballet shoes adhered to the middle:

And this is my little bowl:
Keep in mind everything will come out much more vibrant after firing. I'll post a true "after" picture when I get them back.

OK, so we leave Mind Over Splatter and are paused by the stop light at the corner of the downtown area. This is what we see:First Caly glances over at the beautiful bridal boutique right next to us and then looks across the street to the opposite corner. "Look Mom, they have toys and magazines!" This is the longest light ever.

Next we went to Michael's to pick up supplies to create Caly's next school project. Uh oh. Do I hear the Projectzilla emerging? I tried to keep quiet, I really, really tried. But I just had to interject an opinion. Or two. OK, maybe three, tops!

And then to Chili's to enjoy lunch and our very favorite Chocolate milkshake:

Right up there with my Vanilla Bean cupcakes.

Although offered, we did not indulge in the Presidente Margarita:

Because nothing could possibly hold a candle to Wink's margaritas. And because I was driving, remember?

We had an amazing find in the parking lot when we were leaving - a jeep for Wink. Something he had to give up for married life and kids was the most spectacular jeep you can imagine (if you're a guy). Lately he's been craving that jeep like I crave those Vanilla Bean cupcakes. So, when we found this jeep in the parking lot, Caly and I thought he would appreciate some pictures:

A close-up of the fabulous artwork:

Jake & Anna - did you catch all the rubber duckies?! Adrianne, can you find the crown? Kinda like a mobile "I Spy", huh?

I so think I should do this to the van!

Seriously folks, NO TAILGATING:

And this picture is special just for Elizabeth - what to expect in Georgia:

This was seriously parked right next to the van:

This could be a romantic couples gift for Valentine's Day!

Too bad I already had gifts ready and waiting for Wink and Chris upon their return from Mexico:

Don't want to let the secret out, but suffice it to say it does not include a jeep or snoring help.

Hope you all had an equally excellent adventure with your special Valentine!

Happy Valentine's Day!

2009-02-14T07:39:00.010-07:00

A quick wish out to everyone for a very happy Valentine's Day!

Since Wink and Chris are in Mexico (building houses), it's all me and Caly today. I'll post pictures from our Valentine adventure tomorrow, but here is a V-day jammies preview: Don't you just love special occasion jammies?!

And they're off. . .

2009-02-12T06:31:00.002-07:00

. . .to build some houses. To share in Faith. To change lives. . .ours included.

Procrastinator no more. . .

2009-02-07T09:40:00.063-07:00

. . .Oh, who am I kidding? Being a procrastinator all my life, it surely does not seem feasible to simply not procrastinate. My poor therapist is busy enough with me as it is to even begin the process of de-procrastinating my brain any time soon.

But, today, I stop procrastinating on one thing. . .posting about our Grand Canyon/Flagstaff adventure this past summer. It's been the one post that I really had to finish before I can catch up with all the others. The problem was that I had like 79,999 pictures from the Grand Canyon alone. I know, it's a big hole. How could I take 79,999 pictures of it? I was wondering that very same thing as I was trying to go through them and pare down to only the best. Even opening up that file gave me a panic attack. What a job!

So. . .without further ado. . .I bring you our Grand Canyon/Flagstaff vacation from June of 2008! (Yes, I am aware that June of this year is only four months away!) It was the first time the kids and I had been to the Grand Canyon (I know, pathetic after living here for 13 years!) Please be forewarned that about 50,000 of the 79,999 pictures follow:

Advice from a canyon

Carve out a place for yourself

Aspire to new plateaus

Stand the test of time - Don't get boxed in

Listen to the voice of the wind

It's OK to be a little off the wall

Reach deep!

-Ilan Shamir

We were at the South Rim:
Look at how closely the sample in the picture above represents the actual layers in the canyon:

And people wonder why tourists lose their lives at the Grand Canyon:

Being the obsessive collector in the family, Caly (What? You think there's more than one of us?) has always been fond of rocks and tends to notice and pick them up wherever she and rocks exist together. Yeah, we have lots of rocks. After years of rock collecting, Wink and I thought we better slow the process of accumulation down a bit.

On one of our Christmas tree hunts up north, we told Calgary that she was not allowed to take any rocks from the cutting area unless she had a rock permit. Issued from the National government. The office was closed until after Christmas.

Grandmother overheard our conversation and chimed in, agreeing with us, of course. Only she was serious. We had Grandmother pretty much snowed until we started talking about the special office of issuance. Caly was skeptical, but complied (or at least we thought she complied) with these strange new rules.

I wonder if there is a statute of limitations:

The question:Possible culprits:

Was it the beautiful, graceful deer?The breathtaking, stoic elk?

The sassy squirrel who would beg, borrow, or steal?The chatty chipmunk who thinks I can't see him:Or the rusty red robin?My guess would be any of the above after our daughter added to their diets significantly. This girl is goin' to jail! Rock picking and feeding wildlife. Where have we gone wrong? As an architectural enthusiast, I enjoyed seeing all the different building structures. The Hopi House (this one is a two-for because it also has a gift shop!):
This was actually employee housing - Do you think they'd hire me?
And the famous, amazing El Tovar Hotel designed by Charles Whittlesey:
I have to say my favorite part of the trip was our tour of the Riordan Mansion. It just barely topped the Grand Canyon, and only because I just love, love, love looking at houses. (In case you haven't already figured that out from previous posts.) Model homes, vintage homes, neighbors' homes; you name it, I love looking at it!

Built in 1904, the Riordan Mansion was designed by the same architect who created the El Tovar Hotel (mentioned above) for brothers Timothy and Michael Riordan (married to two Ohio sisters!) and their families. Two identical homes, mirrored image, were built with a connecting great room. The pictures below do not show how massive this "ultimate duplex" really is, nor do they do it justice. With 40 rooms and a total of more than 13,000 square feet (6000 square feet per home and 1000 square feet for the great room or "the cabin" as they referred to it), this house was the lap of luxury; but in a simple, Arts and Crafts kind of way.

The Riordan family moved from Chicago to Arizona and became well known in the lumber industry. They eventually purchased and rebuilt (after fire) The Arizona Lumber and Timber Company, making them the largest employer in northern Arizona. The Riordans were instrumental in the growth and development of Flagstaff.

Two things you might not have known about me - I love architecture and history!

Once inside the house, there were rules about picture taking, touching things, and where to walk. This one man on our tour just couldn't get the touching and walking thing right and was regularly reprimanded. I didn't think it a good idea to chance it by taking "illegal" pictures as the tour woman looked like she could take me. I seriously thought about it though. The inside pictures below just don't show the true beauty of which this home spoke. So much of the character of both the house and the Riordans lie in the pictures I couldn't take.

This fireplace "cubby" was adorable:

We weren't allowed up the second set of stairs : (

Window seats and bookcases everywhere! Oh what a reader/writer's dream - not to mention all the pictures!And the roll-top desk; how I wish mine had survived my parent's fire:
The stained glass windows were beautiful throughout the house, but this was one of my favorites. It reminded me of a stained glass I used to admire at a local antique shop in Albuquerque when Wink and I were first married. It was way out of our price range; but years later we had a friend make one that was somewhat similar. I will have to post a picture of how ours came out when it is up in our new home. (No, we don't have one yet - our current house goes on the market March 5th.)
The Riordan family had a stunning art collection. Many of the paintings were of a religious natuare as they were devout Irish-Catholics. I wish I could have taken a picture of their prayer area, but it was off limits to photos. Hmmph. And who could get by without a telephone?

Do you think they would have ever believed a telephone would evolve into this:We, of course, visited the Northern Arizona University campus. Chris had wanted to attend college there since he was a freshman in high school. And so many of our good family friends are already there or will be attending next year. In case you didn't catch that they are the Lumberjacks, here is a visual:Caly liked the Lumberjack boy, not too keen on the ax though:Chris by NAU stadium. Which is all irrelevant now. He told us about a month ago that he now wants to go to either Arizona State or the University of Arizona in Tuscon. Yes, he had already been accepted at NAU - we got the letter on Christmas Eve. So now we are waiting to hear from his two new choices. We are sad about the whole NAU thing, but know that this has to be his decision.

Snow on the San Francisco Peaks in June. Yes, snow in June in Arizona!A favorite of Wink's - aspens, aspens, aspens: We had a great time on our little tour of this incredible part of Arizona. I am so glad the kids and I finally got to see the awsome Grand Canyon!

In need of a 12-step program. . .

2009-02-02T07:39:00.009-07:00

. . .because of these cute, little, seemingly innocent vanilla bean cupcakes from Starbucks:
One bite and you are gone. On a cloud. In Heaven. Addicted. Yes, it is that simple.

Only it is all an illusion. You are not on a cloud in Heaven. You are in vanilla bean Hell.

You will drive to all Starbucks in a 25-mile radius looking for this Heaven on earth. You will go in your jammies. You will send in your poor, almost 13-year-old daughter to those that don't have drive throughs. This, my friend, is the life of an addict. A vanilla bean cupcake addict.

The devil is certainly pulling out all the stops to come between me and Weight Watchers. He is winning. But only with the help of a cute, little, seemingly innocent vanilla bean cupcake from Starbucks.

Mexico Mission 2009 Wood Cutting Party

2009-01-26T08:53:00.031-07:00

Stacks of these:
Plus this motley crew:

Equal this; neatly piled, ready to travel to their final destination:
Each and every year it continues to amaze me how these simple bundled sections of precisely cut wood. . .
. . .some bundled a little longer. . .

. . .and even the scraps. . .
. . .will come together with a few other minimal building supplies, a whole lot of dedicated volunteers, and blood (well, hopefully not so much of this), sweat (unfortunately, no getting around this), and tears (of happiness felt so deep it pierces the soul) to create four homes, sheltering four families, easing desperate need for those in desperate situations.

There is much debate on illegal immigration; especially here in the southwestern states. Being involved with this ministry (even indirectly, as I am - Wink and Chris are the ones that actually go), makes it a whole lot harder to form a clear, concise opinion on what is right. If people could experience the hopelessness of the conditions our neighbors in Mexico are facing, I am quite sure they would also find it difficult to come to an immediate conclusion.

Many argue we should be helping those "right in our own backyard." First, I'm just going to state the obvious here - hellllllooooo, if you live in the southwest, Mexico is your backyard. And second, I do believe we should help those among us in our own communities who are in need. But I don't think our human responsibility ends in our own communities.

And just in case you are wondering - or are just plain ornery and want to argue about our Church reaching outside the boundaries of the USA when there are plenty of people we can attend to within our borders - our Church and its congregation do support multitudes of social ministries that benefit the local community, including Habitat for Humanity which also builds houses for those in need; as well as ministries with global contribution.

We had a sermon this past Sunday that fit well into what I refer to above. Seems that happens a lot - you can't tell me God doesn't speak directly to us through others! Pastor Lee gave us much to think about regarding how we separate ourselves from our brothers and sisters in Christ through physical boundaries. There are no boundaries as children of God.

There is literally a line drawn in the sand to show the border of Arizona/New Mexico and Mexico. How lucky my children are to have been born on this side of the line. Because that is the only thing that "separates" children being born in Mexico and our children here in Arizona. Yet we are so quick to judge (myself included).

Every year at this time, and for months following, I am humbled by the people of Mexico and those dear to me who go there to help. I need to work on keeping that feeling all year long, because it truly represents gratefulness at its very best. (I have another post on this subject coming up soon - it will be called "On Gratefulness". It has been on my heart since the week prior to Thanksgiving.)

On to more pictures:

Lacey gets her very own Mexico Mission book on how to build a house that she must, per Diana, spend all the rest of her days prior to MM09 memorizing. She is so excited!
Elizabeth, Todd & Wink already not in agreement, uh oh!

Now there is some concern from Diana!

Wink, Eric & Mike working hard:

Eric & Mike working even harder:

Is Todd really working?

Mike doesn't like pictures - he and I not such a good combination!

Elizabeth taking a set of boards to be bundled:

Was Chris really working? I mean, come on, look at what he is carrying and look back above at what Lizzy had hold of!
I think Lacey is trying out for a job as a model on the Price is Right:
Team WET - Wink, Elizabeth & Todd:
Team ELM - Eric, Lacey & Mike:

Cheri is a team leader with Matt & Chad (Team MCC), but her hubby makes a very nice stand-in! Buy our house Cheri & Doug - you look so good in the neighborhood!
We missed Team KTT (Kim, Tommy & Ted) but know they'll be working hard as soon as they step foot in Mexico!

Does anyone know what a "dirty monkey" is? Keep the answers clean please!

Alas, the clean-up crew:

Here's to you MM09 volunteers! You are going to forever change the lives of four families!

Then along came Margaret. . .

2009-01-16T06:12:00.011-07:00

. . .and she quietly trumped Millie. There, I said it. I like another vintagey house more than I like Millie. Oh, who am I kidding, it's not like, it's love. I am in love with Millie and now I am in love with Margaret too. But even more so.

It's just that Margaret has walls. And two functioning bathrooms with an additional one in the works. And pieces to a kitchen. And a shop already almost finished. And the most amazing great room you can imagine. And, the piece de resistance, a basement!!! You heard that correctly, a basement! In Arizona. (To fully understand what that means to us - well, at least Caly and I - you must read my post from July 27th entitled "Top Ten Reasons. . .Basements!")

So, without further ado, meet Margaret:Just look at that welcoming red door, and, be still my heart, red shutters: You walk in to the most wonderful roomy vestibule entrance. I know a lot of people think an entry way that takes up space just for itself is a waste, but I am such a fan of a nice, separate entry. This picture looks from the vestibule into the kitchen and great room:The door sticking out in the above picture leads to the "office" (I already have this all planned out, you see. I am even going to give Wink a corner!) Below is the huge office flanked by double doors:The kitchen. At least it has cabinets and counter tops waiting to be installed! (Although I am not sure they would actually come with the house.) The best part is I can still put in my beloved farm sink.The kitchen and eating area:
Looking into the great room, and what a great room it is!Looking back into the kitchen from the great room:Another view of the great room - I have four separate areas planned out. (I know, this obsessive planning is kinda sick, huh?) But look, there truly is a basement! It's almost finished with three bedrooms and a storage room with shelving. The master bedroom is on the main level. Close-up of the fireplace & bookshelves. We would take out the units in place and do our own thing to accommodate my four-spaces-in-one idea.The window seats on one side of the great room. With lighting!The window seat on the other side, by the proposed "library." Also, the double doors leading out to the backyard. This spot will have a large, round dining table in it!

Looking back towards the kitchen and front entry:The pool-size back yard:

What will make Wink happy. . .
. . .even though it needs to be closed in:
I wanted to name her Thelma, after my Mom; but Adrianne said absolutely not. She was afraid I would be devastated if we didn't get her. She is probably right. So I think we'll stick with "M" names for the houses we really like. Let's just hope we do not end up with as many houses as that constantly pregnant woman has kids. They named all their, what now, 18 kids?!!!, with names that start with "J".

You are probably wondering if I just fall in love with any old vintage house. I would have to say, after yesterday's experience, the answer to that question is, unequivocally, no! Hey, I'm not that easy! We saw some real humdingers! So much that I had a major stuffy nose from the various smells after we were done.

And Adrianne even loved Margaret. She who hated Millie. She who lost sleep over not wanting to sell Millie to us. She who worried we would never be friends again because of Millie. You're probably also wondering if Adrianne is the boss of me. Yes. She is. At least until we get our house sold and she finds us a new one. So, Adrianne, enjoy your reign while it lasts! Something tells me she most certainly will.

If you're gonna drive like an idiot. . .

2009-01-13T08:51:00.005-07:00

. . .may I recommend you take off the back window sticker that advertises what Church you choose to attend?! Especially when you think the rules don't apply to you when dropping off your kid at school!!!

Can you tell I'm still dealing with the aftermath of a bad day yesterday and not off to a cheerful start today? Although Caly did make me smile this morning. Several times.

It's been six weeks already?!

2009-01-08T09:01:00.016-07:00

Well, OK, technically, six weeks was yesterday. I hope I haven't disappointed the masses anxiously awaiting my return. I was actually thinking the date of return was next week, so imagine my surprise when I did the math this morning. Of course, two things could be a factor here; I hadn't had a full cup of coffee when I did the math; and I'm not so good at math even with a full cup of coffee. But it seems, by all accounts, yesterday was indeed six weeks. So here is me!

It's not that I don't have anything to say - believe me, there have been so many times over the past six weeks I was just aching to blog; not to mention all the subjects I left hanging out there - but I have to figure out some sort of order. In the meanwhile, here are a few pictures to wet your appetites:

I was greeted by the wipe board each and every morning, for the two weeks or so leading up to Christmas, with the number of days 'till Christmas countdown. It literally made me a nervous wreck! Wink and I would regularly change it to how many days it was 'till Christmas. . .plus 365 days. Because that is how many more days we needed to get ready.How bad could it have possibly been, you ask? We had to go from this:to this:and this:
and this: and this - the White Elephant Gift Exchange tree - in just days. Nope, I knew the whole time I was hosting Christmas this year; it was no surprise. It's just how things were.
But it didn't matter in the end; mess or no mess; for we had happy children like this:
Smiles in all our hearts:
And a wonderful time with our family who really didn't care if there were a few piles still here and there. Bless you guys!
This is how Mocha stood for more than an hour after I put her sweater on. We have concluded that she thought it would shock her if she moved. Poor Mocha. We have had many of these, although beautiful, it means our air quality is not so good.
And the real moving boxes have come out. Although it is hard to tell if we are packing things or children and animals away!
And here is what has been on my mind and in my heart for almost three months now. Meet Millie. The vintagey, mildewy home to which I chronically drag Wink, the kids, and Adrianne.

Looking at the front door from the kitchen; well, where the kitchen is supposed to be. And I guess if the kitchen were indeed there, you wouldn't be seeing the front door : )
The other half of the kitchen:
The awesome game room!
And the living/dining area looking into the kitchen and game room:
Yes, I know there are no walls. And we've already established there is no kitchen. There aren't any bathrooms either. (unless you count the toilet on the side of the house) There is also mold under some of the tiles. But, come on, did you catch the chandelier still in tact? That has to say something about the heart of this home! Someone thought it would be great fun to flood the house while it was up for sale, hence Millie's current condition. No matter. I am in total and absolute love. My heart aches for her to be our home. She needs us. . .and we need her! Don't worry - the initial disbelief is expected. . .but she'll grow on you; just wait and see! Did I mention we would need for her to go to auction with a purchase price of no more than $20,000 to make it work? Yeah, I know, but I just have this feeling. . .

Much more to come soon!

Love,

Where we'll be. . .

2008-11-26T09:54:00.025-07:00

Crossroads: n. pl. 1. A place where roads cross. 2. A juncture in time where two cultures, eras, etc., meet. 3. A critical time or decision.
All of the above. Amidst the hustle and bustle of the Season. As a family. Each of us individually. Because that's just how it happens around here : )

"In the multitude of of my anxieties within me, Your comforts delight my soul." -Psalm 94:19

"Great relief and satisfaction can come from seeking God's priorities for us in each season, discerning what is "best" in the midst of many noble opportunities, and pouring our most excellent energies into those things." -Beth Moore

"Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish." -Chuck Palahniuk

Not to be looked upon as a negative in any of our circumstances. Just a whole lot of forks in the road, each needing careful and prayerful consideration.

"On every journey you take, you face choices. At every fork in the road, you make a choice. And it is those decisions that shape our lives." -Mike DeWine

"Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." -Jeremiah 33:3

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." -Isaiah 30:21

"In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight." -Proverbs 3:6

As we acknowledge our gratefulness for blessings bestowed upon us, and also of wisdom born through our trials; and we gear up to celebrate this Season of our Savior with thankful and joyful hearts; we must also take time to face, decide, and prepare for the crossroads at which we've found ourselves.

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend." -Melody Beattie

So that I may give of myself, all that I have to offer, to my family, to our God, and for sake of preparedness, I will be placing my musings on hold for about six weeks. With lots of good, old-fashioned, hard work; much thought; and even more prayer; I am confident we will choose our paths wisely.

Yes, my brain may indeed burst with so much left in there to say! Don't worry, my faithful five, ok, maybe two, followers, I keep a journal of things I wish to post, inclusive of "bullet points," so nothing gets left behind. I hope to have daily posts up and running come mid-January.

Coming soon to see chel's musings:

the grand canyon prescott american idols 7 more top tens from ohio wink's 30th high school reunion on gratefulness private, not even mystery diagnosis asu volleyball shopping shenanigans the balloon lady headless barbie body it's latin for good job daddy monti's little blue truck glenn beck, finding your voice & the christmas sweater vintage house hunting nie nie nice.

No, the last one must read larger and bolder: Nie Nie Nice. You'll just have to tune in mid-January to find out why. Hey, I have to include some sort of a cliff-hanger to keep those two loyal readers coming back!

God only knows what else I'll have to blog about in six weeks' time! And I don't make that statement flippantly or in jest, but because, truly, God is the only one who knows!

Oh, it rained this morning. It is raining again this afternoon as I finish this last post (for a while) to my blog. It is supposed to rain again tomorrow. I think you know how I feel about rain. Love it! Love it! Love it!

But now my car - because I never completely close my windows, a habit you acquire when you have temperatures of 100-plus degrees for six months out of the year - smells like the home of my dreams from our vintage house search. I think only Adrianne (aka one of my "bestest" friends in the whole world wearing the additional crown of realtor right now) and Wink can completely relate to that analogy (unless, of course, you too have recently toured a moldy, mildewy vintagey home) - I thank both of you from the bottom of my heart for at least humoring me on this one : )

Wink, ever observant of the natural beauty surrounding us, just made me take a break for this:

Complete double rainbow!

It's OK if you are now humming "Somewhere over the rainbow. . ." I did too.

"Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth." -Genesis 9:16

May all the joys of this wondrous season embrace your hearts and souls. Peace to you and yours. See you in six weeks! With love, Michele

***Only pictures of the rainbow are of my own hands, the others are all seemingly not under copyright and found through web searches.

Who changed the channel from Comedy Central to. . .

2008-11-17T08:04:00.020-07:00

. . .Lifetime?!

Chris did. Never give control of the clicker to the 17-year-old.

Two short days after the "Hamster Incident" (see Nov. 2nd post) and while Wink, of course (because, historically speaking, this is when things happen), was still out of town, our son decides he will not be outdone by his sister. Well, OK, I am quite sure outdoing his sister never even entered his mind, but, nonetheless, that's exactly what he did.

Trying to determine what time I was going to be able to get Caly to school that day (the dizzy thing is usually at its worst in the morning), the phone rings in with a number identified as that of our school district. Before answering, I thought to myself, "That is strange, I haven't had a call from the school district for quite some time now." Caly does not attend the district school. And I've never had reason to get a call from our school for Chris.

Until that morning. And let me tell you, he saved up all those years of not getting in trouble for one doozy of an incident.

Smacking myself awake, because surely I am not correctly hearing what the person on the other end is saying, I realize I am indeed awake and need to respond. Also realizing there is not a whole lot one can say in response to such an atrocity, I simply say, after a brief moment of quiet, "I am mortified and at a loss for words."

"When can you come in?"

Well, gee, let's see. . . as soon as I am able to get the legitimately brain injured child off to school, I'd be happy to come in and see what sort of brain injury the other one sustained. Because there is no way he is not brain injured to commit such a wretched offense.

Waiting for me in the office of the Assistant Principal was our son and, of course, the Assistant Principal. Within a few minutes, the school's "resource officer" (a.k.a. police officer) joined us. The four of us at the round table. Nothing like an occasion like this to knock the meek characteristic of depression right out of you, replaced with a backbone to be reckoned with.

While I am not going to get specific about the actual offense, suffice it to say, you do not ever want to be at the round table with the Assistant Principal, School Resource Officer, and your child. Although firm, they were actually much more forgiving than I. Admittedly, when they pulled Chris's record, they thought they had the wrong kid. I guess they don't get many 4.0-plus, AP scholar, National Honor Society, top ten percent in their class, academic scholarship bound students in their office. Go figure.

Proud of myself for still being able to instill the fear of God into my 17 1/2-year-old (because, let's face it, at 17.5, you're kinda starting to get wise to the fact that you will be on your own very soon), I calmly walked out with him, quietly asking him for his cell phone. Told him to go home and delete his MySpace. And when MySpace is gone, he was to put his wireless adapter on the counter. These steps would effectively knock out all communication to the outside world. Kids today do not know how to communicate without these things. They do not know phone numbers, only the number the person is programmed under. Whereas, Wink and I, still remember friends' childhood phone numbers!

We've come so far with technology, but it seems with this advance, comes a backslide of common sense and sensitivity. It affects the smallest things, such as not even knowing your best friend's phone number; but more worrisome, it affects judgement. One thing I learned from this incident is kids, in this fast-paced culture, are very desensitized. Alarmingly desensitized. I wasn't totally in the dark, but finding out what kids accept as normal, everyday business opened my eyes to the reality in which they live. And I can't imagine a parent out there, once fully educated on what a typical teen's day entails, would be happy.

It's several weeks later and Chris has received, completed, and moved on from his punishment. Still though, I worry. Did this make the intended impact we hoped it would? Did we reach him? Or did he only go through the motions, swallowed up again by the insensitive world continuing to flood each of his senses?

In reality, I think this is probably no different than what our parents before us and their parents before them, struggled with. Being on the other side of the coin isn't so much fun though. However, one day, that coin will flip again, and it will be our children's turn. . .

P.S. Another thing I learned is I really like Chris's phone. . . and had a heck of a good time texting his friends before they knew it wasn't him. Clicking right back to the Comedy Channel!

A New Post. . .

2008-11-15T21:12:00.004-07:00

. . . showing up under November 2nd. Just scroll down to find my "Comedy Channel" blurb, finished and posted today. I know, I need to figure out how to fix that.

An Unexpected View. . .

2008-11-14T13:35:00.017-07:00

. . . as we walked off the elevator (yes, we probably should have climbed the stairs) and onto the third floor of the parking garage at Phoenix Children's Hospital. I instantly chided myself for not having my camera. You heard me correctly, I did not have my camera!

Heavy hearted while traveling up, up, up to this magical floor, I was not expecting the cool breeze (you heard that correctly too!) that greeted us as we began our jaunt to the truck. I couldn't help but smile and close my eyes as the seasonal air I've craved for so long hit my thirsty skin. With eyes now wide open to the most spectacular view of downtown Phoenix and the far away, but enveloping, Estrella Mountain Range, precisely as the sun began its descent, my spirit soared. If only I could have held on to the moment for just a little while longer.

The news had not been bad from the pediatric cardiologist. I think of all the reasons why we could have been there, what other outcomes could have been presented, and realize in a split second how grateful I am.

But I can't shake the heaviness gripping my soul. The doctor thinks Caly has Orthostatic Intolerance, something actually quite common among girls her age. Orthostatic Intolerance is the umbrella under which Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (or POTS) falls, the diagnosis the neurologist of the same hospital suspected. While POTS is not yet ruled out, the doctor said only a small percentage of those affected by Orthostatic Intolerance actually have POTS. Caly will need to hydrate lots more during the day and take Thermotabs (salt tablets) to help retain fluid. It can be as simple as staying sufficiently hydrated, which, in Caly's case, will mean drinking more water than what is considered "normal" consumption. We will be closely monitoring her symptoms (and some other stuff I probably shouldn't mention here) for the next seven days, looking for improvement. If things improve, great, we've figured it out! If they don't, we have medication options and further testing for POTS ahead.

So why the heavy heart and soul? I am worn down. From years and years of working diligently to try to figure out our baby. From going through scores of doctors, mostly (but not always) very good ones, in search of answers. From having to explain the off-behaviors, quirks, and mind set of a child with a disorder to acquaintances, friends and family; some of whom care very much and are willing to take the time and patience to understand; others refusing to believe such disorders even exist or simply not wanting to put forth the effort to try to understand; some even choosing to sit back and criticize or just push away altogether. And from attempting to work with school administrators and teachers who just don't get it. Admittedly, we don't always understand it and we live it 24/7.

Weighing down my resolve heaviest, as the elevator worked its way up to the third floor and on the entire, traffic-plagued trip home, was the thought of having to, once again, explain ourselves to, and hope for support from, the school. I am jaded from experience and pessimistic by nature. The road has already been long and hard. Circumstances are now further complicated by health issues that have yet to be completely figured out and under control. The dread builds as we prepare to advocate for our daughter.

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder is constant, presenting itself in different ways on different days, but always present. Something that always must be considered before evaluating any other matter. The neurologist says there is no brain damage from the concussion she sustained in September. Although, we wonder, why then, has everything gone absolutely haywire since? The cardiologist thinks she has this Orthostatic Intolerance, and it becomes a "wait and see" kind of thing as we try different remedies. The problem, as I had already figured out with my Mom's death, is the rest of the world doesn't stop to "wait to see." Time marches on, classes continue, missed work piles up, people get impatient with what seems like lack of progress or even lack of trying. But, the truth is, we are working so hard and it just barely keeps us afloat in this fast-forward pace of the culture in which we live. And it is frustrating; very, very frustrating.

Now, a few days after that magical moment in the parking garage of Phoenix Children's Hospital, I reach deep down to find that perspective again. I need to feel the cool breeze, bringing with it a renewed strength. I need to find the smile, to lighten the load a bit. I need to recall the spectacular view to remind myself God's arms are in a steadily, enveloping state. I need for my spirit to soar once again.

Lost in the Chaos. . .

2008-11-06T19:19:00.043-07:00

One Jack-O-Lantern. Yes, this is what one looks like just three days (really, only three days!) after carving when you live in the Phoenix Metro area.
One more Budget Friendly Revelation for giving out candy next year.

Remember, this was the candy bar our friends handed out:
This was the "fun-size" we gave out:
And this is what I just discovered existed (while going through Caly's trick-or-treat bag), a "bite-size" version: Just for comparison - what we gave out vs. what some unknown entity gave out:
We go from 2.1 ounces at our friends' house, .7 ounces at our house, to .4 ounces somewhere Caly trick-or-treated. We could get double for our money with these little guys! Adrianne will be very, very proud of me. (She has been wearing the crown of "Financial Advisor," on top of all the other well-worn "crowns" she takes on for so many.) That is, until she realizes that redemption for giving out one of these per customer comes with that little note we will be attaching. . . (Please read my "Happy Halloween" post if you have no idea what I am going on about!)

One Tried, but Failed, Trick on Daddy. OK, this one was a good one. He had come home from work one day talking about this guy wearing a male version of Capri's. He thought it rather odd. And the man purse thing - that really bugs him. Wink's birthday is right around the corner and it would be very plausible for his Mom to be calling for ideas. We were hoping he would think this was a note I left for the kids while I was out running errands. (He was coming home from Albuquerque on this day.) Didn't believe it for one second - one second I tell you. Man he is hard to trick these days. Of course his poor Mom would have searched the world over to find these for him. If it wouldn't have ended up being a mean trick on her, I would have really done it just to see the look on Wink's face when he dove into those presents!

One Cala Lily plant right outside our front door reaching upward, waiting for just the right moment to bloom, as it faithfully does every year.

Numerous Birds of Paradise already adding refreshing, Autumn-like color to our front yard.
A Yard of Winter Grass that Wink so carefully tended to is making its appearance. I know those in climates that do not allow for much planting of any sort during wintertime are perplexed. This is actually grass we seed over the established grass (thus called "over-seeding"). Remember, our summer grass has to endure 110-plus temperatures, so it doesn't do well in the winter. I love winter grass. There is just something so tender, so soft, so not 110 degrees that just tickles my heart!
One Orange Tree in major production! I almost cut this tree down myself (or at least supervised Wink) after three years living here without any results. Then, as if it knew, at the end of that third year, a handful of little oranges appeared. Now you know I can't chop down a tree that reminds be of a Bible story. Unfortunately, even though we did eat those first fruits (they were yummy!) and survived, we realized the next year the water used to nourish the tree is reclaimed. Something about the unsanitary conditions of reclaimed water made us decide eating the oranges probably isn't in our best interest. But it does make for a beautiful ornamental tree. And reminds me that living in Arizona does have its perks. . . our next house will definitely have fruit trees we can utilize!

One Pool Finally Closed for the winter! Yeah! I am grateful for the pool, but, come on, six months out of the year?!

One Cousin of Mocha's out on Halloween night. He loves the kids. And Cinder truly is the biological cousin to Mocha. He lives right across the street with Bill & Kath. They were always cat people until they fell totally and completely in love this this guy. Cinder is a Momma's boy and lives the good life Mocha doesn't even knows exists!Just look at his little heart:

So what do you think? Does he look more like our first German Short Hair Pointer Droopy Joe or his true cousin Mocha?

We think Cinder actually looks more like Droopy Joe (seen two pics above with a much younger Michele and Droopy as a puppy). Cinder and Droopy have more of the ticking and milk chocolate brown combination while Mocha has less ticking and a very dark chocolate coloring. Doesn't matter, all three are just beautiful, but interesting I think.

One Shaved Dog who is wondering if we are nuts for keeping her a fur-ball in the summer and shaved down to nothing in the winter. I know Rosie, we are sorry. I now understand why my parents always had her regularly groomed short. Keeping a long and flowing fluff-muffin dog free of tangles, knots, and, well, poop out of her rear area is a full-time job. One I just don't have time for at this particular moment in my life - I prefer to spend my time with Rosie snuggle-bugging!

"Can you believe these people?!"

The first couple of days we kept her warm and cozy in a blanket:

Then realized we needed to get her a sweater:

Now she is happy with both:

Way too many "Welcome Back Daddy" signs as Wink was away on his October rotation for work. Not that we didn't want to welcome him back, just wishing he never left in the first place. October was a really tough month for us to have him gone. A couple of times he surprised us by sneaking in on an earlier (in the day) flight. One time I was so happy to see him, just those couple of hours early, it made me cry. And Caly kept the secret! The sign Caly made below about sums up how she has been feeling over the past month - do not adjust your computer screen- it really does look dizzy:

Twenty Memorial DVDs of Mom finally completed, copied, packaged, and sent out. Though this project took much longer than Wink and I had expected, this labor of love was worth every hour, every effort, every tear spent. And believe me when I say, there were, and continue to be, lots of tears. I am thankful for the opportunity to compile the life story of my Mom and am grateful to my dear husband for his unwavering support of the time I spent working on this project, his wiping of my tears while his too were flowing, and his determination to make sure all the technical kinks got worked out. Yes, that is Baby Jesus with my Mom in the picture on the DVD.

A Lot of "I Didn't Do Its!" from Rosie. And you know what, most of the time, she didn't! I would come home from a few hours out and just automatically expect to find a little present waiting for me. Especially when she looks like the picture below when I walk in the door. But Rosie has been doing really well with her potty habits. Alleluia!

And last, but certainly not least, One Baby Jesus who never fails to make me smile.

No regrets. . .

2008-11-05T07:27:00.009-07:00

It seems congratulations are due to President-elect Obama.

Congratulations!

What an amazing day in history for the United States - our first African-American (or is it more politically correct to say "black" - I just don't know) president has been elected!

I know if you know me well, you might be waiting for the punch line - the next words surely will be sarcastic - as I admitted yesterday that I was not in Barack Obama's camp. But I really am being sincere here. I try not to take race into consideration for anything - I believe people are people are people. So race had nothing to do with me voting for John McCain. If you read my post from yesterday, you'll know it was all about the military experience theory. Yes, my little theory. I really, really am happy that a black man finally broke through the good-ol' white boy network, I just wish he had some military experience.

Yes, there are some other things besides the military thing that President-elect Obama and I do not agree on, but I am ready and willing to give this next four years an honest try. I think John McCain said it well and with much grace:

"These are difficult times for our country, and I pledge to him tonight to do all in my power to help him lead us through the many challenges we face," McCain said to applause. "I urge all Americans who supported me to join me in not just congratulating him, but offering our next president our goodwill and earnest effort to find ways to come together, to find the necessary compromises, to bridge our differences, help restore our prosperity, defend our security in a dangerous world and leave our children and grandchildren a stronger, better country than we inherited."

I respect the office of the Presidency. And I will follow Senator McCain's lead to support our 44th president. Plus, I look forward to watching those precious little girls grow up in the White House.

One thing I want to say though. . . I think our media really stinks. Bad. Their coverage (with the exception of my beloved Glenn Beck) of this entire campaign and election process has been so slanted. And that's just not right. Like I said in my post yesterday, I want the facts and only the facts; I can make up my own mind without their little attitudes. And I suspect most Americans can do the same. Even today, with the election results fairly concrete, they insist on calling this election a "landslide," a "thumping," and other descriptive wording that make it sound like John McCain voters should not have even bothered. I am sorry, but when an election has results of 52% to 46%, that is not a landslide in my book. That is a race well run.

And on to Proposition 102. It passed. As I had feared it would. I am not so gracious about this loss, but hope and pray it will not breed intolerance for those children who are lucky enough to find happy, loving, and stable homes with two moms or two dads. Again, I believe people are people are people. By the way, 43.6% voters agreed with me. I do not call that a landslide victory either.

I have no regrets about yesterday. I liked hearing my voice raise up and stand for what I believe in. Now let's just hope our elected officials to all offices do the same.

I VOTED TODAY!

2008-11-04T12:54:00.018-07:00

4:30 AM

I am not a morning person. There are very few things that will get me up and in the shower that early in the morning. Making a flight to Ohio. . or Hawaii, I'd get up for that. Still wouldn't like it, but would be so stinking excited I probably wouldn't have fallen asleep the night before in the first place. Surgery. I've done that. Surgery on a loved one. I've done that too. Voting? I wasn't so sure.

So what gave me that extra motivation, why did the pull to vote this year tug so hard? I'm not exactly sure. I've never been fond of politics. I don't ever remember feeling so strongly about a political issue or candidate that I just had to get out there. If it was convenient, I voted. If it wasn't, I didn't. I'm not proud of the blase attitude, the passion just wasn't there for me.

The political environment makes me nervous. I don't like confrontation. I don't like to debate. I want the facts, and only the facts, on candidates and issues. Having a celebrity endorse you means nothing to me. I don't like the deceitfulness, nor do I appreciate mudslinging on the 5 million commercials paid for by who cares who and endorsed by you. And for goodness sakes, please, please, please, keep your pants zipped up. Nobody wants to see or hear about that.

I do not pretend to be overly knowledgeable about politics and admit I should be better about learning and keeping up with what makes this great country of ours work. Even with the tough times we are facing, we need to remember we are indeed fortunate to live in a place that allows for such opportunity. Just go on a mission to build houses in Mexico and see how thankful you come home. With wealth all around us, it is hard to imagine being stripped of even the necessities. Serving those in a less fortunate, suppressed country really opens your eyes.

I think we need to evolve with the times a bit, while never losing sight of what our founding fathers intended. I wish there were more politicians who would stand strong in what they believe in and do the honest job they were elected and paid by us to do. I find it hard to believe, that out of all the qualified citizens in the United States, we don't have better to choose from on this day. Unfortunately, I don't think the best candidate always makes it to the top. It is all just so. . . political!

I voted for the McCain/Palin ticket. Are they perfect? No. Do I think John McCain has never had an indiscretion? No. Do I think he hasn't played the political game to get where he is? No. Do I think John McCain is a dedicated leader who fought for and loves our country? Absolutely. Do I think Sarah Palin can handle the Presidency if John McCain should die? Maybe, with a lot of help from advisors. My problem with Sarah Palin as President is she does not have a military background. I have nothing against a woman being president, but I worry that she does not have the street smarts of military experience.

In fact, I don't think anyone - man, woman, African-American, Caucasian, Asian, Hispanic, whatever - should be allowed to be President without first serving his or her country through a branch of the military. The military provides a sense you just can't get from being a good speaker or debater, or even a good Governor or Congressman.

Some might say this would make the candidate eager to settle dispute through war. War happy. The truth would be far from it, I think. They would understand first hand how it feels to be shipped away from your family for months without end. They would understand how it feels to lose a fellow soldier in battle. They would understand the pain and suffering of both those who were wounded and those who witnessed the wounding.

But they would also understand the mentality of some of these other countries. They would have seen up close and personal the brutality encompassing every day life in these far away places. They would have seen the despair of people under suppression. They would know of countries wildly rampant with corruption, no justice in sight for the atrocious acts of violence, and no hope of stopping it without outside help. They would also know of the immense hatred some of these countries have for us and their willingness and tenacity to destroy the United States of America. The world is not a school playground - not that using your words always ends up working on the school playground either. Some countries just do not play well with others.

Military experience provides the needed balance to make crucial decisions for our country. It gives the candidate perspective from those who have fought for our country and what those of other countries are capable of against us and, most sadly, even against their own. Those with military experience will know what it takes to allow us safe and sound sleep at night, ensure our freedoms, and be humanitarians to those in need. Gee, maybe I do have a bit of passion after all.

With all that said, you would think that I'd stop with those lightly controversial ideas that might have offended a few. But, no, I am going to go for offending probably about 3/4 of my friends and family.

I voted NO on Proposition 102. And I feel it important to say that out loud.

For those outside of Arizona - because I cannot imagine anyone within Arizona not aware - this Proposition would amend the Arizona Constitution to specifically define marriage as a union between one man and one woman, even though it already prohibits the marriage of same sex partners. Voting "no" doesn't change a thing - it continues to prohibit the marriage of same sex partners, but it is on the books as a statute. Apparently, it is much more difficult to change an amendment to the Constitution of Arizona than just a statute. So what the Proposition is trying to do is solidify the language in a way that will not allow for future consideration.

For months I've been inundated with "vote yes on Proposition 102" propaganda everywhere - in the mail, on the corner, on much loved local blogs (which I still, by the way, love), on television and radio. And I don't mean "propaganda" in a bad way, as the word is often viewed in current times. I just mean the definition, according to Webster's ("Any widespread scheme or effort to spread or promote an idea, opinion, or course of action in order to help or do damage to a cause, person, etc"), aaccurately depicts the fervor in which its supporters pursued the issue. Even with my mighty NO, I fear this will indeed pass.

And I respect people's position on this - many of whom I count among my friends (well, at least they were before they read this!) Their position crosses many cultural and religious lines; Catholic, LDS, Evangelical, Jewish, and even a stricter version of my very own religion, Lutheran - Missouri Synod. This is not to say that each and every person involved in one of these religions support this Proposition, but my guess would be the vast majority do. And that is OK. I just hope I am given the same respect on my position.

So why did I decide to say all of this out loud and risk being thought of differently by those I care about?

Because there is something lurking down the road that really bothers me.

Intolerance. "Refusal to tolerate opposing beliefs; bigotry." Again, definition by Webster.

Yes, this seems like just a simple little language change, but what it really does is make it very difficult to ever modify. And whether we like it or not, believe that people are born gay or not, think being gay is a sin or not, or welcome our gay brothers and sisters to worship along side us or not, the fact is what constitutes a family has changed.

And I know a big argument for marriage being between one man and one woman is that God intended the union to be fruitful in procreation. Well, let me tell you something. I would much rather see two dads or two moms adopt children in need than have one crack-head woman and one prison-residing man procreate under the union of marriage. I believe that a child deserves to be raised in a happy, loving, and stable household; and if that means they have parents of the same sex, so be it.

Which brings me to the intolerance part. When the child of one of these perfectly happy, loving, and stable households begins school, it will not be long before word is out they have two moms or two dads. Children of Kindergarten age accept differences without bias and with love from the bottom of their hearts. This kind of tolerance will not continue as they age, so I believe it must be taught at home and school incessantly.

You do not have to accept this belief into your own family, but it is so important to stress unconditional love to those in situations different than your own. What an amazing tool to equip your child with for the many different circumstances and people that will inevitably cross their paths in the years to come.

This does not need to involve the horror stories being told of isolated situations in certain school districts. A very simple, age appropriate lesson used to promote tolerance of different kinds of families -all kinds of different families - can be decided upon and used with the sole purpose of helping the children grow in tolerance, instead of losing it over the years.

Because intolerance breeds hatred.

So yes, I voted today! And found a little passion in the process.

I voted for John McCain and Sarah Palin.

I voted NO on Proposition 102 and know in my heart Thelma would have done the same.

I don't know if my little votes made a difference in the grand scheme of things, but I allowed myself to hear and respect my voice.

And, for better or worse, agree or not, you got to hear it as well.

Please remember that I hear and respect your voice too.

Comedy Central

2008-11-02T11:34:00.031-07:00

Ever feel like your life could be an episode from a sitcom?

That happens a lot over here. When you least expect it. Under circumstances that make you want to cry or scream or run far, far away. And I think it is a good thing. Good because it means you can see the humor in the situation. And humor is so very important, even during the darkest of times. Particularly during the darkest of times. Good because, for as frustrating as the moment is, you can see light at the end of the tunnel. OK, sometimes it's more like the distant flicker of a lighter at a concert, but there nonetheless. Good because this too shall pass. And getting yourself so wildly consumed in the scene at hand will make you lose sight of that.

We had one of those sitcom-worthy days a couple of Sundays ago. Started off innocently enough, with things seemingly under control, albeit already not the perfect situation. Caly was in somewhat of a bad way with the same symptoms we have been trying to figure out and get a hold on for over a month now. It was her week to sing with Praise Team, but I called the night before letting them know she wouldn't make it - we could just tell. Wink was in New Mexico for his October work rotation. And it was our week to serve coffee/cookies after Worship.

I never mind serving coffee and cookies after Worship, but since Wink started this goofy work rotation in August, and as our luck would have it, we were scheduled to serve during the months he would be away. It has been difficult to do without his help. For instance, he is always in charge of making the coffee - I had no idea how to work the coffee pot that serves, like, 5000 people. Yes, I am exaggerating just a bit; the point being we had fallen into a routine of who does what and coffee making was not my job!

The sweetheart that does the master schedule has since changed things around for us to coincide when Wink is in town - thank you Lori!!! I should have had the schedule changed right from the start, but, silly me, thought I could handle it on my own. What happens is I end up with one child not there because he inevitably has to work and one child who is more interested in eating the cookies and running off to do whatever a 12-year-old girl finds interesting to do on the Church campus.

Here we were with this one last day to serve without Wink. Chris didn't have to work and was coming with me. No problems anticipated. We skipped the Worship service because we were having Caly stay at home and didn't want to leave her alone any longer than needed. Even called Caly once we got to Church and were getting things in order. All was well.

Then the call came. Right smack in the middle of juice needing to be refilled and cookies needing replaced. Worship makes people hungry! My phone was tucked away where I couldn't hear it, so Chris was the lucky recipient of inaudible news from a hysterically crying little sister. It takes years of parenting know-how to be able to dissect words out of blubbering sobs. Chris promptly handed me the phone with a look only a 17 -year-old boy could muster and said only two words, "she's crying."

I, of course thinking this had something to do with her really, really not feeling well, was immediately anxious and began berating myself for leaving her alone in the first place. And so the dissection began.

Although I was relieved this particular sobbing episode had nothing to do with not feeling well, concern mounted with every word pulled from the wreckage. Cinnamon. Out. Wet. Not Moving. Mocha. Ate. Autumn. Cinnamon is the hamster. Mocha is the dog. Autumn is the cat. This was not sounding so good in an Animals Gone Wild sort of way.

Welker (Have I never mentioned this man? He is an older gentleman - in the true sense of the word - who makes everyone at Church feel like he belongs to them. We all feel like the favorite child. I absolutely love this man!), who had been standing near by in the kitchen, not only heard my raising-in-pitch responses to Caly, but most likely her hysterics as well. "Michele, go home and take care of that little girl. I will take over from here." And so it was. Half way through my dutiful service, I bailed, bracing myself for what I would find at the scene of the crime.

Meeting us at the door, I could tell Caly was losing it. I was now very afraid of what I would find within the confines of her room. She had contained Cinnamon Spice in something from the Tupperware cabinet. Fully expecting the Tupperware to double as a coffin, I was pleasantly surprised to find a hamster very eager to escape this incarceration. Note to self, remember to throw away that piece of Tupperware.

Careful inspection of the situation ensued. Gingerly lifting Cinnamon from her current state of custody, I did my best veterinarian impersonation. Cinnamon Spice looked pretty darn good for a hamster who was just eaten. She was wet. . . from peeing all over herself. That was lovely. Now, I know you aren't really supposed to bathe a hamster, but I could not, in good momma conscience, allow Caly to continue to cuddle with a urine-infested rodent. So adding to this poor little thing's stress for the day was a quick cleansing.No, I was not yet seeing the comedy in our predicament. Because, remember, Caly has OCD, which adds flavor into a plain old bagel situation. She is still hysterical. And not of the funny kind. Caly has taken Cinnamon's escape very personally. She is now mad at her. I guess you can sort of relate it to a mom getting initially scared to death something is very wrong with her child, assessing the situation to find out the child is ok, and then finding out the child did something wrong to cause the situation. Caly thinks she is Cinnamon's mom. She is kinda like that with animals. She initially thought Cinnamon was facing imminent death. Realizes Cinnamon is going to be just fine. Figures out it is all Cinnamon's fault. Do you see any resemblance to a roller coaster ride here?

The facts:

Caly had slept with me the night before because it is our company policy to allow her to sleep with Mom one night per week when Dad is away.

Apparently, this is what Cinnamon Spice was busy doing that very same night: Please note that we purposefully purchased this aquarium caging apparatus, complete with locking, mesh wire lid, for proper venting and security. This because, on a favorite blog I follow, the mom kept posting about the escape artist they found in their newly acquired hamster; actually losing the hamster several times, until she was gone for good. Even though I think I adore this woman (can you actually adore someone from afar but not be considered a stalker?), I thought to myself, "How can the hamster possibly escape that much? You can handle five busy children, but not contain a hamster? That is not going to happen to me." What ignorance coming from this hamster virgin. Now I understand. Completely. For goodness sakes, Cinnamon Spice chewed through wire mesh to be of the free world. Good thing she is blind or I am quite sure, after that much time as a fugitive, she would have been long gone.

Yes, you are seeing this next picture correctly, inclusive of a pink hamster wheel, which was actually a factor in the overall problem. Not because it is pink, but because it squeaks. Bad. Growing tired of hearing it non-stop for hours after my head hit the pillow, I removed it in hopes of finally getting some shut-eye. Squeaking hamster wheels and a child who plays soccer in her sleep does not allow for a good night's rest. But, who knew hamsters must have something to do all night, or else?
So, with my super ingenuous engineering capabilities (ha ha ha ha ha) I came up with this temporary solution after scavenging around on Wink's side of the garage. Some sort of metal tool box thingy, heavy enough to keep Cinnamon from pushing it away, but (hopefully) not too heavy as to crash down through the mesh wiring. That would be bad. Really, really bad. Remember, Wink is out of town - I had to figure something out.In the heat of the moment, I scolded Mocha and Autumn. Surely they had both contributed to this sorry situation, at least to the hamster peeing all over itself. And then a more likely scenario, one that would explain Autumn's disgust with us for the rest of the day, came to mind. While it is probable that Mocha wanted to eat Cinnamon Spice. . .

Autumn is somewhat of a protector. And all the other animals are afraid when she gets that particular tone about her. She protects the Baby Jesus. She protects her Momma (Caly) all through the night. She protects Caly's/her room with much vigor. And on this night and into the light of day, I believe she protected Cinnamon Spice. Maybe she has a soft spot for blind hamsters, maybe it's because the hamster belongs to Caly, maybe simply because the hamster is part of her room's property. I don't know. But one dog, one hunting dog to be specific, was unsuccessful in her alleged quest. No hamster tartare. At least not on Autumn's watch.

Autumn, Patron Saint of Hamsters

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T16:32:00.043-07:00

92 degrees. Need I say more?

When it's 92 degrees on October 31st, you know I will! (Although I acknowledge it could have been worse - we've had a Halloween or two at or above 100.) Suffice it to say, these are not the optimum circumstances under which I prefer to celebrate Halloween. Yes, as a matter of fact, I would rather have a snow suit on under my costume! Yes, at the weight I've settled into at this specific moment in my life, that probably would limit my costume choices down to either the Michelin Man or the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Not that you'll catch me dressing up a whole lot any more, it's just the principle of the whole thing. It is supposed to be cold on Halloween.

They shouldn't even sell chocolate candy in this town of ours for the sole use of filling goody bowls on Halloween night. Sometimes, chocolate at Christmas is even pushing it.

Speaking of Christmas, our Albertsons had a smokin' deal on candy canes - each box contained 12 candy canes and cost only a dollar. We could've scooped up 120 candy canes for ten bucks. About as much as we paid for just two bags of melted chocolate. (For the record, we bought a whole lot more than just two bags of candy.) Seeing as we had about 100 trick-or-treaters, that would have left us 20 candy canes in the black for Christmas. Since Chris just received a "grounded for life, take away your cell phone while Mom has soooo much fun texting your friends, and delete your My Space" punishment, I am sure he would have been thrilled to dress in his gorilla suit and Hilary Clinton mask to hand out the candy. (You'd think the boy would have learned by this time to watch those indiscretions when you have something really fun planned.) I believe this would have been an excellent long-term budgeting tool as it probably would have pretty much stopped future trick-or-treating traffic at our house. A hot and sweaty, wanting to be anywhere but here, not-overly-fond-of-children gorilla with a Hilary Clinton mask handing out one candy cane per trick-or-treater - yep, that would've done it. We thought of another budget friendly approach to providing candy to the little munchkins.

Our good friends handed out candy bars that look like this:

While we handed out candy bars that look like this:

To recap, here are both candy bars, side by side:

Theirs, 2.1 ounces. Ours coming in 3 times smaller, .7.

Hmmmm. . . maybe next year we could buy just enough "fun-size" bars to give one per trick-or-treater, but, have a note attached that reads, "For redemption of the life-size version of this candy bar, please head over to. . . I think we've got a plan!

Our good friends take their Halloween celebration very seriously and would never skimp on the good stuff. In fact, I had been "trick-or-treating" over there myself at least twice this past week! I heard they ran out of candy.

Not many people participate in handing out candy on our particular street. I suppose, as the night goes on, the word on the street gets out not to come down this way. As long as my kids are out there trick-or-treating, I sorta feel like it is our civic duty to hang in there.

One set of elderly neighbors go into lock down every night when the sun goes down anyway, so it is understandable that they wouldn't be opening up Fort Knox for evening ghosts and goblins. Every year, before the sun starts to hint at retrieving, they bring over specially made candy bags for each child. How sweet is that?

We have a young guy on the corner who's not there because he is probably out at a real party, like we all used to do - he best take advantage of those while he still can!

Then there's the stripper's house that, although looks like Halloween year round with the atrocious, lit up with every color of the rainbow stained glass windows taking over the entire front of the house, does not hand out candy. Deceptive, I think, to look so festive. I so wish their festive look took reprieve the rest of the year; but, unfortunately, it lights up in all its glory each and every evening. (Because these windows were put in right around this time last year, I honestly thought they were Halloween decorations.)

I know, we have quite the colorful street, no pun intended. A handful of us still partake in festivities, but probably not enough to be one of the "happening" streets of the neighborhood. Which, is probably a good thing, with us trying to be budget conscious and all.

I would categorize our street as somewhat of a "man's street." Instead of the girls being the glue that holds everyone together, it's the boys. Not that the girls don't like each other or anything like that, the boys are just always out front doing their man stuff and find one another. So, not surprisingly, it was the boys who decided to hand out the candy this year.

But not before a Halloween toast at Bud's:

You just can't hand out candy without your very own treat, margarita style. Although by the time Chris and I got out there to hang out, I think it possible the boys had one too many.

Usually, we like to pull out the portable fire pit, light the fire, bring out the chili, and enjoy. But after our balmy 92 degrees day, this year was a bust.

After a very long day for Caly, (that will have to constitute another post - we had our appointment with the Phoenix Children's Hospital neurologist {the most awesome doctor ever, well, at least right up there with the amazing surgeon who did Caly's appendectomy} and she stayed at school from 11:00 on {with two half-hour rests on the headmistress's couch}) we gave final word that her very good friend Bridget could come home with us and do the whole trick-or-treating thing. We were concerned, after a day already fuller than most have been for the past month, that she would get started trick-or-treating and not be able to make it very far. But, with her cell phone tucked into her costume and Bridget by her side, off Caly went. They did come home half way through their quest to regroup before going back out and Caly did have to sit down a couple of times along the way, but she did get to celebrate one of her most favorite holidays - 2nd only to Christmas!

So here is what the girls looked like when I got them home from school. (Caly is showing Bridget our famous wipe-board communication center:

Only to be transformed into this for the evening activities:A dead aqua fairy and an injured cheerleader, looking pretty dead as well.

This is the first year I gave in to allowing Caly to be something gross. I think I held out pretty well - she is in 7th grade now. I still didn't like it, but I know there are worse things out there. Pick your battles Michele! OK, I wasn't gonna go here, but it begs to be mentioned. Just look at that area where boobs are supposed to be. This was obviously meant to be a much different kind of costume. When Caly first brought it home, I about croaked. She was under the impression she would be wearing it without the dance leo underneath. (I had sent her brother with her to pick out the costume - probably my first mistake.) This made for quite the mother-daughter argument. The whole addition of the "dead" aspect helped mellow it quite a bit, allowing for a compromise, but you just can't help but notice that area.

And last, but certainly not least, this is my favorite picture from Halloween 2008. And I can't believe I am saying that because I usually don't pick pictures that have me in them as a favorite. But, we had so much fun hanging out with Chris on Halloween, even if it was due to consequences he had to pay. (I don't think hanging out with his parents on a Friday-night Halloween would be at the top of any 17-year-old's list.) He was such a good sport and I thoroughly enjoyed his company. I think this picture clearly shows that sentiment:So essentially, we spent our first Halloween together:
And the last one before he is off to college. How's that for a scrapbook moment?!

New Traditions

2008-10-27T10:08:00.035-07:00

Two months ago, I took a difficult step, beginning the therapy I so desperately needed to allow for my journey forward. Sitting on my therapist's couch (yes, sitting, still haven't had the chance to lay down, not even once!) week after week since, we have touched the surface of many things, but one of the most pressing had been the coming first "anniversary" of my Mom's death.

After patiently exploring all the "what ifs" and "what could have beens"; addressing the guilt and regrets; and just plain letting the raw emotion of this immeasurable sorrow flow, my therapist gently shifted focus to here and now. The reality of the situation is that time marches on here on earth, this realm in which I exist. I have a husband and children that need me. Things that need tended to. And I had an anniversary of something, that even five years ago seemed unthinkable, forthcoming.

What to do with this day? The apprehension, anxiousness, and uncertainty of what it had the ability to bring to the surface could be crushing. As the days crept forward, I found it more and more difficult to push the crowding thoughts to the back of my mind. How would I cope on this day? What feelings would I struggle with? What would I do on this day?

I could have easily chosen to close the blinds, curl up in bed, and spend the day alternating between stages of consciousness. In fact, that would have been really easy for me as I was still suffering repercussions of the flu and feeling the effects of extreme frustration over the concussion that had rendered Caly fairly incapacitated for the past month, with no answers as to what we are supposed to do. Yes, shutting off the world would have been very easy. Had I felt better, I suppose I could have thrown myself into something that would have kept my thoughts and emotions at bay. Busy work per say, something to occupy myself to keep from thinking much about it at all. With all that needs done around here, that also would have been easy. And either of those options would have been just fine if that is where I found myself on this first anniversary of Mom's passing.

But weeks of therapy had been devoted to being "proactive" about this day that is given much importance. The other options would have been so counter productive to my goals and well being. A step backwards. It would have been an easy step to take.

So, although circumstances were not the best to carry out my carefully laid plan, I did end up choosing my "proactive" choice. I went antiquing. Something specific to the relationship I had with my Mom. Something to honor the life we shared, instead of being paralyzed by the grief of that day, one year ago. Something I can continue to do, year after year, to revere a resilient bond between Mother and Daughter.

I cannot, however, take full credit for actually getting myself motivated after waking to the reality of the day. I was sick. Caly had an MRI scheduled. I just didn't see the point of trying. But Wink offered to take Caly to the MRI alone to give me a little more time to rest. My friend Adrianne called first thing in the morning to see if, and this is where I have to look up and thank Divine intervention, I wanted to go antiquing. Yes, that is really what she called for. I asked her if she could wait for a couple of hours to see if I was feeling any better. "Of course I can!" (almost in a "you are such a silly girl" kind of voice) And then came Caly and Wink, home from the MRI. Wink walked over and said that Caly had talked to him on the way home and really hoped I would be able to go antiquing. She said she knew how important it was to me and how hard I had worked to get to this day. In that moment, it was settled. I would be going antiquing. Today I would celebrate Mom's life, not spend it in lifeless mourning.

We went to a favorite place of both my Mom and I and me and Adrianne:

I was "Hazel" and after, like, 10,000 tries, Adrianne finally accepted "Tiara." We had wanted to be "Thelma" and "Louise." We will make them at home and bring them for the next time.

I'm not sure what I would have left with had I been left to my own devices (Adrianne is my financial conscious), but I was very happy with myself for only spending $32.66! Had I known, however, that five out the six items I purchased were on sale. . .
This is the beautiful crystal piece Adrianne gave me for my birthday last year. I decided to use it in "Mom's corner" and fill it with little treasures significant to my Mom's memory.

The very first occupant from the day's finds:

Establishing new traditions in attempt to prepare for a day that will continue to arrive each and every year. Finding something personal, relevant to the relationship each one of us shared with Mom. It was not just for me. Caly and Chris had also planned for a day of remembrance. Chris would drive the mustang to school. Caly would get to pick out a few things for the winter season. Obstacles beyond our control (the mustang had developed a mechanical problem and complications from post concussive syndrome were in full swing) got in the way of them actually carrying out their new traditions for this day, but they were at peace knowing what to expect in the years to follow.

And the most amazing aspect of the whole "finding a new tradition" experience? The kids and Wink were much more concerned about me being able to carry out my plans for the day. Sure, Chris and Caly would have loved to have celebrated in this new tradition, on the day it was meant to be celebrated, but more so longed for my needs to be met. And this is such a big deal. Huge, in fact. You see, our kids are at "that" age - the age at which it is, with all certainty in their minds, all about them. Wink and I live this reality day in and day out. It is not a fun stage. We all had our very own "all about me" time to revel in; but on the receiving end, it sure seems worse than anything we could have dished out. (OK, I am sure my Mom is rolling in the clouds laughing with that one!)

An unexpected gift from above, just waiting for me to reach out and embrace it. To realize and acknowledge that, for maybe just this day, the kids, in spite of being in the midst a most infuriating phase, put someone other than themselves first. And really meant it. To see, in that one act of kindness and concern, the child you raised is still in there somewhere and will emerge again. Yes, this was a gift indeed.

The first anniversary has come and gone and I am sure everyone who loved my Mom had their own means of survival for this day. This was the story of mine.

Julie and Kelsey brought by these beautiful flowers and kept me company later that afternoon:

Forever in my heart, finally at peace.

From the Heart of my Soulmate. . .

2008-10-26T08:12:00.020-07:00

. . . I received the following:

Dear Michele,

I wanted to try and put my feelings on paper ( or computer screen ). I am so Sorry that you still feel so much pain about the loss of your Mother. I am sorry that I forget how much you still miss her. I am not trying to be unfeeling or callous, just dense. You know I don’t multitask well. I know that it is a long process and I will be here for you no matter what. You do so many things that we (especially the kids) take for granted. It has to be so much harder to do those things when you hurt so much.

Thelma was such a wonderful person. We didn’t always agree on things and she sometimes drove me crazy (I’m sure I drove her crazy sometimes) but I really Loved her. Whenever I was tempted to speak my mind I always remembered that they gave me the most precious gift of all. You! They not only brought you into this world but they really did give you to me. They knew that we were meant to be together and trusted that I would take care of you. I have always tried to live up to that trust and appreciate it more than anyone will ever know. I really miss her too. I miss the mischievous twinkle in her eyes when she knew something you didn’t. The belly laughs when we did something stupid and most of all the love you could see so plainly on her face when she was around her grand kids.

Please remember that she is always here in our hearts and in our children’s hearts and try to feel that when you are hurting for her. Sometimes memories just pop into my head about her (usually something with her and the kids) and I start laughing remembering it. Then I want to cry but just end up smiling at the memory. It’s not fair and we all know it. She should be here still but God needed her for something else. That is the only reason it can be. That doesn’t make it easier but it might help us cope with it. She and Great Papa are up there having a grand old time. I wonder if they have “time out” in Heaven?

I will always be here for you and so will our spoiled children. I wish I could express my heartfelt thoughts so eloquently like you do, but know that is not in my genetic make up. Kind of like that commercial “You aren’t this guy that’s why we have Zales”. I know that I could be far worse about it, but I know I could be much better also. Some things are okay to be average at. Others are Not. I will try to do better.

With all my heart and soul
Love,
Wink

He walked in with white roses, which, since her death, have come to symbolize my Mom. Preoccupied with tenderly placing each of those roses in arrangement, I vaguely heard Caly asking him if he was almost finished. Indeed he was, for he was only printing out what he had written earlier in New Mexico. Of course I had no idea, until he reappeared in the kitchen, words flowing off the pink printer paper we've been using in lieu of the regular white stuff. I stood at the counter, not quite finished positioning my bouquet, and read the heartfelt words my husband handed to me.

How did I ever come to deserve such a man? I'm the one who's been a disaster this past year and yet it is he who thinks he can try to do better. No, Wink, it is surely I who must do better, as the alternative is just not an option. It's a slow process down a long road, but I feel improvement, a sense of normalcy intricately weaving its way through the fiber of my being. At times, I find myself fighting this sense of normalcy, not wanting to accept all that is needing my acceptance; resulting in a path that's not so straight-forward. It's a path less traveled, but my path nonetheless. I thank God every day you are taking each step with me, wherever it meanders, as I struggle to move forward.

Wink, my Mom absolutely loved and adored you. And you are right, she did so from day one, knowing you were "it"; trusting you, with all her heart, to forever care for her first born and the grandchildren to surely follow. You got the job! And I know much of what came with the job failed to appear in that original job description (not even in fine print!), but you never once wavered, never once doubted you had married the right girl. You are such a blessing in my life. You often ask, "Do you know how much I love you?" Oh yes. Yes. Yes, I do. How can I possibly not know that? What I hope is known, however, is how much I truly, in all that I am, love you. Because in this fog that tries to lift on some days, but remains heavily present on most, I'm not so sure I make it clear. And you need to know. I love you. . . to the moon. . . and back!

Oh, and to answer Wink's question. Yes, I am fairly sure once Mom joined the ranks of eternal life, God found it necessary to institute a heavenly "time-out" program. And I think it's getting lots of use. . .

"Uh, oh, I'm in trouble again!"

One year later. . .

2008-10-24T01:00:00.008-07:00

. . . so why does it feel like just yesterday? When will I stop expecting her to show up at the front door just because she is out and about with my Dad? How many more times will I instinctively reach for the phone wishing for another chance to ask her a question or talk about the day's triumphs and trials? Will subtle reminders - hearing a song, there are just so many; the scent of fresh watermelon, cucumbers, and cantaloupe; the sight of a white rose; her twin sister's voice; white cake with white frosting; that sparkle in Caly's eyes when she is ornery -always bring tears to my eyes? How long shall my heart break?

At a loss for words on this eve of my Mother's passing, I share below what I wrote in a letter included with the memorial DVDs sent out earlier this week:

This Friday marks the day I cannot believe I hear myself saying, the one-year anniversary of Mom’s passing. Even with knowing, down to the core of who I am, she is well and good in the arms of our Lord; the reminders of her absence here on earth continue to pierce my soul. This past year has been the most harrowing 365 days I have ever had to endure. Even now, there continues to be times when, with my pain so intensely abysmal, I struggle to find words that adequately narrate the storm within. I have painfully discovered there is no set statute of limitations on mourning.

With all that said, however, I do see signs of normalcy edging its way in. Sometimes I resent those signs, as I know “normal” does not translate to “as things were.” No, this will be a different kind of normal, a path set anew; a way to inch forward respectfully until Mom’s memory brings about more smiles and less tears. For it is not God’s intent for us to forget His precious child, but to celebrate her life with us and within us. I think Ruth Ann Mahaffey’s poem says it best with “When you think of my life on earth, and all those loving years, because you are only human, they are bound to bring you tears. But do not be afraid to cry; it does relieve the pain, remember there would be no flowers, unless there was some rain.” Mom wishes for our senses to be alive again in the presence of those flowers; to experience new joys in this life on earth. Then, Mom says, “We’ll run with the angels on streets made of gold, we’ll listen to stories of saints new and old, we’ll worship our maker, that’s where we’ll be, when you finally find me.” (Wish You Were Here by Mark Harris)

Wink and I would like to share the enclosed memorial DVD, put together with much love to honor Mom’s life. My sincere hope is that this DVD provides you with the happiest of memories, a renewed strength in the celebration of Mom’s life, the courage to grieve as much as needed, and the ability to find your “new” normal.

Mom is forever in our hearts, finally at peace.

The mystery behind green eyes. . .

2008-10-22T09:26:00.009-07:00

What is going on behind those beautiful (albeit a little too much eye shadow for Mom's taste) green eyes?

I found this self-portrait while I was downloading pictures of a newly shaved Rosie ("fluff muffin" no more) and the sweet girls I carpool to volleyball (mind you, not my own daughter, she chooses to go with a "cooler" mom), all of which I hope to share through upcoming posts (yeah, I know, I haven't even finished June & July yet, but posts I have yet to place words to stir constantly in my head!). This picture just took me by surprise, not only because I didn't know she had taken it, but because something about it says "please make this stop."

My last update on Caly painted a much different picture than what we are now experiencing. After being symptom free, except for some fatigue, for six days (through most of their fall break), she was able to return to school last Monday and Tuesday. Tuesday night was the regular season's final volleyball game, which she indeed got to play in and all seemed fine. About a half hour after I got her home, however, it was as if she had just received the concussion all over again. On Wednesday, I was up to my eyeballs in phone calls, making and receiving. Finally, a call came through from a neurologist's office saying that they had a cancellation for Thursday at 4:30 (after originally scheduling us for December 5th!) - we'll take it!!! Elated in thinking that we would finally have some answers, Thursday afternoon couldn't come soon enough.

Maybe we were expecting too much, but we left that appointment not knowing anything more than we already knew. Yep, she had a grade 3 concussion and is now suffering from post concussive syndrome. Yep, she's going to be dizzy and nauseous. Yep, she will suffer extreme fatigue. Nope, can't tell you how long it is going to last, but in my experience symptoms should be gone in about a month after the impact. Although, I have seen some children have problems for up to a year. Nope, I can't really tell you for sure how long to restrict sporting activity, but the government put out this chart (as she fumbles through the mess of papers on her desk) that says the child should be symptom-free for one week before they play sports again (gee, we did that and look where it got us). But maybe you should have two weeks of no symptoms before you allow her to resume sports. Nope, don't think she needs an MRI, but if you really want one down the road, just give our office a call. What about school, we ask. Oh, she can go back to school tomorrow, here is a prescription for nausea. I'll see you back in six weeks.

Excuse me, but there is something wrong with my child (and I'm not talking about all the usual suspects). The back of her head slammed down onto cement and she hasn't been the same since. Please give us answers or, at the very least, attention to her specifics; not just generalizations. I feel like we are stuck in a bad episode of "Mystery Diagnosis."

So, Caly did not return to school that Friday or this past Monday, but made it to school yesterday. The morning at home wasn't going so well, but I gave her the magic nausea pill and toted her off to school. The ride up there was rocky, but she was determined to make it. And she did, for most of the day. Apparently, with last period came severe dizziness that was bordering on faintness. By the time I was waiting in the parking lot to pick her up, one of her friends came to the car and said she thought I better go inside and get Caly because she wasn't doing so well. Another mom and I ran in to see what drama (I told you I tend to think drama queen first, real injury second) was going on and to our surprise found Caly white as a ghost, clammy, incoherent, and unable to walk without assistance. We got her into the car, I got her home, and it took two hours for her to come around to some resemblance of normalcy. I called her pediatrician and he said if she did not get better to take her to the ER, but if she did, to wait until morning to call the neurologist and set up an MRI. Well, let me tell you, no wonder if is so hard to get in to see a child neurologist. When I called first thing this morning, a message came on spouting their hours - 9:00 am to 4:30 pm, with 12:00 pm to 2:00 pm off for lunch. Not impressed.

Of course we are really worried about our daughter's injury and continued debilitating symptoms. We are frustrated with the seemingly nonchalant care and diagnosis. But we are also worried about her missing so much school, falling more and more behind in a rigorous curriculum she already struggles a bit in. How is the school going to react to such a vague prognosis and so many days missed? As if it weren't enough that we already have special needs due to her disorders. Another round of meetings with Caly's team of teachers, 504 coordinator, and Headmaster is surely right around the corner.

And, darn it, I have the flu to boot. OK, I am done with my rant. If I don't do it here, I am afraid I will do something inappropriate that will ultimately render me crazy. Oh, wait a minute. . . I already am crazy, being officially diagnosed with clinical depression (another post waiting to happen). So I guess if I really wanted to. . . doing something "inappropriate" can be explained away. . . just kidding. . . for now anyway!

Kelsey May

2008-10-19T17:10:00.010-07:00

How far that little candle throws his beams!

So shines a good deed in a weary world.

-William Shakespeare

Beautiful spirit. . .
Compassionate heart. . .
Walking in Faith. . .
with every day's start.

Thank you for Caring. . .
for Time that you spend. . .
Nurturing others. . .
Helping them mend.

Our family is Grateful for you. . .
Kelsey May. . .
your Thoughtfulness. . .
Prayers. . .
Words that you say.

Thanks for being there for me & Caly - we love you!!!

One full day of no symptoms. . .but no word from Phoenix Children's Hospital. . .

2008-10-08T10:56:00.007-07:00

Just want to post a quick update on Caly:

Although we have yet to hear from Phoenix Children's Hospital (very much to the dismay of our pediatrician), Caly's major improvement over the past 24 hours may prove to be the defining moment of a full recovery. She did not experience dizziness, nauseousness, or ringing in her ears the entire day yesterday and has woken this morning symptom-free as well. Caly's symptoms were beginning to wane over the past couple of days, becoming less frequent, but still quite bothersome to her while she was experiencing them. We are thrilled that she seems to be healing on her own.

I do, however, wish we could have gotten an MRI just to be sure. Just the momma in me I guess. I am kind of surprised that Phoenix Children's Hospital has not gotten back to our doctor. They even went through their representative at the hospital after a day went by without hearing from them. It is a very specific department they are trying to get a hold of, but I still find it somewhat discouraging with the excellent reputation of the Hospital coupled with our anxiety over whether or not Caly was going to "snap out" of these frustrating symptoms and be able to return to school and normal activity.

But, nonetheless, we are grateful that everything seems to be working itself out. We will return to our pediatrician for final clearance and hopefully Caly will be back on the court for our last volleyball game.

Maybe I should send her out into the world with toilet paper rolls duct taped to the back of her head. . .

Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta. . .not!

2008-10-05T10:02:00.058-07:00

This morning we should have been on the field, chilled by true autumn air, experiencing this:

Followed by extraordinary skies looking like this:
Chasing after balloons would have allowed for amazing shots similar to these:

Brilliant colors would have continued to amaze us, even though we've seen them year after year after year while living there:

Special Shapes Rodeo would have released the inner child in each of us:

Not so funny for poor Julie:

Look for another Energizer Bunny later in this post:

Were our friends in NM thinking of us here is Arizona as they enjoy their crisp Fall temperatures?

New Mexico chili ristra (in case you are wondering):

For those who ditched Church for Sunday's mass ascension:

For Jake & Anna:

For Aunt Lisa and Chris. Lisa, I am afraid you will never live this one down. I believe this may be the dragon you and Chris were chasing when you went through the red light, what, some 14 years ago! What's that you're grumbling? Oh, still insisting the light was yellow.

Nighttime would have been aglow with wonder:

Balloon Fiesta is just one of those things you can experience over and over again and, with each new flight of fancy, find something new in which to marvel your senses. Even if you're not right down on the field, just being in Albuquerque during this time is magical. Sure, with 30,000 people dropping in from all over the world to see the Fiesta and a total of about 100,000 people on the field for mass ascensions, life can be a bit bothersome for residents. But on those years when it becomes overwhelming, just relaxing on your own front or back porch to watch from afar (and sometimes you are surprised by balloons not so afar!), is just what the doctor ordered. Albuquerque gets such a bad rap, this truly is the time of year to sing its praises.

The Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta began very modestly in 1972 with 13 hot air balloons taking off from a shopping mall. Over the years it has grown to include 700 balloons from across the world, making it the largest balloon event on earth. There is now a 365-acre park dedicated to housing the event - the equivalent of 54 back to back football fields! In addition to the awesome mass ascensions, there is the Special Shapes Rodeo (about 80 balloons), balloon glows, and, I've been told, the best fireworks show you'll ever see (those are a fairly recent addition). For the balloon glows, balloons are tethered and inflated. When the Balloonmeister (yes, there is such a thing!) says the word, pilots ignite their burners and the balloons are aglow in the otherwise dark of the night. Land of Enchantment indeed!

Wink introduced me to hot air ballooning the first year we were married. He had crewed for years for a pilot out of Arizona. So in Autumn of 1987, I got to crew as well and received my very first (and, unfortunately, only) balloon ride. I wouldn't call it exciting (which was a good thing - excitement usually indicates some sort of danger - power lines, rough landings, running into the mountain, etc. Sadly, there have been several deadly accidents associated with the Balloon Fiesta) as much as I would call it positively and absolutely unearthly or unhumanlike. It was calming, wondrous, and peaceful. It was like traveling through the sky on eagle's wings, without a care in the world.

The year we moved back to Albuquerque (2000), we took the kids onto the field for the full Balloon Fiesta experience. Chris had accumulated a few Balloon Fiesta memories (like being hit from behind while in our beloved old BMW because the other driver was watching the balloons and, of course, the before-mentioned traffic offense by Aunt Lisa - hee hee!) prior to our original move to Arizona, but this was Caly's first time. Where's Aunt Lisa when you need her?! To see the sheer amazement in Caly's 4-year-old eyes was priceless.
The four of us down on the field - I don't know what the heck was up with my hair:

We are so sad that, along with missing the Balloon Fiesta, we are also not getting to see our very good friends Liz and Doyle and their children Kailynn and Jerrod. As previously posted, Wink and I have been friends with Liz and Doyle since pre-marriage, they were in love with Chris the moment he was born, and Liz and I were pregnant together with Calgary & Kailynn:OK, I'll admit it, we will also miss their annual Balloon Fiesta burrito breakfast on the the back lawn. Their backyard has an amazing view of Albuquerque, only made more incredible by the hundreds of hot air balloons ascending with grace all around. Nothing beats great food, even better fellowship, and a view!

Our dear friends Liz & Doyle:
Calgary & Kailynn at preschool graduation (2001):

Calgary, Kailynn & Jerrod (2001):
Jerrod, Kailynn, Chris & Caly (2001): I've written a lot about what we are missing as the Balloon Fiesta goes on without us (well, sort of, Sunday's mass ascension was cancelled due to rain and Wink actually is in Albuquerque for work).

Any guesses as to why we didn't make it to Albuquerque as planned?

Three words: Volleyball, cement, concussion.

Oh yeah, and Caly.

We made it through 3/4 of the season without injury. If you know Caly at all, you know this is unheard of. Especially with balls going every which way, some with fairly forceful strikes, and her unrelenting desire to go after those balls. Silly us, we thought we were home free!

At Monday night's game, the floor was pulled out from underneath her. Going for a ball, she fell backwards directly onto the back of her head. We realize now that she was actually knocked out for a few seconds and when she wouldn't open her eyes, it really was because she couldn't. (We feel really bad, but with the combination of numerous injuries and inclination to be a drama queen, we are always a bit skeptical.) There were so many immediate signs of concussion, but because she wasn't nauseous and her eyes weren't dilated, we decided not to go to the emergency room. We did keep her awake for 3 hours after we got her home. She was fairly miserable that night and I slept with her to make sure she would be OK.

Tuesday morning she awoke to extreme dizziness, nauseousness, and ringing in her ears. We spent 5 hours in the ER getting a CT scan and monitoring her condition. Concussion confirmed, no fractures or bleeds - thank God.

On Wednesday, Caly wanted to go to school. Badly. Against my better judgment, I attempted to take her. She fought the urge to throw up the entire way to school, but when we were about a block away, we had to pull over. I took her home.

She didn't even attempt to go to school on Thursday - anguished beyond belief, but knowing her body just couldn't do it. Thursday evening seemed to bring some relief and we all thought she'd be able to return to school on Friday.

She got her uniform on and was ready to roll. Then she wasn't ready to roll. At all. So instead of returning to school, we took her to our pediatrician. Concerned (and, amazingly, just returned from a head trauma seminar), they have been trying to get us scheduled at Phoenix Children's Hospital for further evaluation. They think she might have post concussion syndrome and apparently there is something that can be done to help make the symptoms disappear sooner rather than later. Also, they would like to be sure that there are indeed no fractures or bleeds since the CT scan misses about 30% of such cases. We will be waiting to hear from the Hospital on Monday.

The dizziness and nauseousness seems to come and go now. In fact, she was fine on Saturday until about 8:30 pm, then it all started up again. We know we made the right decision to cancel our vacation. I can't imagine having her on a plane in this condition. Not to mention if she would have needed medical care in Albuquerque.

Still, it was the second year in a row we had to call off plans to attend the Balloon Fiesta. And we are sad. And worried. Having to be away from us, Wink is especially anxious (he is in Albuquerque for his October work rotation). We are hoping and praying there will be nothing for Wink to remain anxious about. I will update Caly's condition as I know more. For now, please keep her in your prayers for a full and fast recovery. Because now she wants to go back to dance. . .

To be continued. . .

NOTE: All gorgeous Balloon Fiesta photographs contained herein were found on several public websites, so I can't take credit for them.

the talking doctor, prejudices & goo goos

2008-09-29T10:27:00.001-07:00

On the way to school this morning:

Caly: "Momma, I keep forgetting to tell you! There are lots of kids at school that go to the talking doctor."

Momma: "How do you know that?"

Caly: "They told me."

Momma: "Who told you?"

Caly goes on to name a few classmates.

Momma: "I told you you weren't the only one. That's really great that kids are open to sharing this aspect of their lives. We've always understood that going to a talking doctor is no different than seeking care for a physical illness from a regular doctor and I am happy to hear that other families feel the same way. Did they actually call them a talking doctor?"

Caly: "Yep."

Momma: "That's funny."

Caly: "Why?"

Momma: "You do know that they are not officially called a talking doctor, don't you?"

Caly looks genuinely surprised in such an innocent way that I believe she has never even thought twice about the title we use for this type of doctor.

Caly: "No. . .what are they called?"

Momma: "Therapist is probably the name used by most. You were just so young when we started going to therapy that we thought "talking doctor" was the best way to describe that kind of a doctor."

Caly: "Oh. . .well, my friends all called them their talking doctors too."

Momma: "Cool."

Very cool, I thought to myself.

While I've left out a few details I don't think are my place to share, that was pretty much our conversation while traveling to school today. Caly had these thoughts stored up, ready to tell me, all weekend long, but I guess we were caught up in enough other stuff for her to forget until this morning.

I have to say that it really warmed my heart to know, at least in her circle of friends and classmates, the stigma of seeing a therapist is dissipating. I actually don't think Caly has ever even given any thought to the fact that people might think of her differently for seeing a therapist, nor has she looked upon others who seek help in this manner as having some sort of deficiency of character. By golly, if anything, it adds character. While Caly's disorder itself, and the resulting behavior, has been cause of some attack on who she is, it really has never been about the fact that she sees a therapist.

Don't get me wrong, I am well aware of the prejudices against those who seek and find help by lying on the therapist's couch (what an old adage - I wish I could lie on the couch, maybe I'll try it next time!). But as I have witnessed, across the realm of people and things that can be prejudiced against, it is the person who holds the prejudice who is missing out on some part of their life that could be much more fulfilled.

We all have them, whether we admit them to ourselves and others or not. Some are due to our own experiences, some can be blamed on the culture in which we currently live, some because of what our parents and their parents before them believed. Nothing good comes of a prejudice harbored within or acted upon, it truly is a sadness to the soul, both of our own and of those we are prejudiced against.

Delving into the consequences of prejudice is not what I had intended to blog about today, but, nonetheless, that is the path my words took journey towards. Now I find myself reflecting on my prejudices - those out in the open and those I hold deep down. As if I need more things to ponder. . .my talking doctor will be busy with me this week!

As long as we are deciphering our family's secret language, I thought I'd throw one more quick one out there:

Goo Goos - nope, it has nothing to do with the band Goo Goo Dolls, Goo Be Gone, or Couscous, all of which I like by the way! Wink and I were just laughing about this old family term last night. Can you find the goo goos in this picture of Caly and her cousin Tayler Rae from April of 2000:If you guessed the hair holder thingies (see, I don't even know what they are really called!), you are correct! I have no idea how it started or why, but our family calls them goo goos. Even Chris calls them goo goos - I am quite sure he also has no idea what they are really called. In fact, that is what Wink and I were laughing about last night. Somehow it came up and I shared that Chris used that terminology just the other day and Wink and I could both just picture the first time his wife goes to put a hair holder thingie in their little girl's hair and he refers to it as a goo goo. OK, so it doesn't take much to amuse us, but we thought it was hilarious.

What are some of the words in your family language? Be sure to make note of them. As the kids grow, throw them out there every once in a while. So simple, but so evident of the love and laughter shared within your family.

Happy first day of Autumn. . .

2008-09-22T10:20:00.000-07:00

. . .to all those who celebrate this beloved season. . .In a place where Autumn begins to mingle with the last few remnants of summer. . .In a place where Autumn will continue to slowly meander its way, until integration is complete, and the season, in full bloom.Refreshing mornings, crispness in the air. Evenings requiring jackets of light. Pumpkins bursting from the fields, pick me, pick me! Reds, oranges, and golds filling in where green had reigned just a few weeks earlier. Color drifting from the air, as if on angels' wings, softly landing. Laughter builds as each new leaf drifts downward, loosely piled, in anticipation of children frolicking within. Oh how I miss Autumn!
As for us, here in the desert of the Phoenix Metro area, we are looking towards triple-digit temperatures for at least the next seven days. These next two months tire my spirit so, because I know. I know what Autumn is. I know what I am missing. My soul hungers for these simple delights of a wondrous season. An already tired and tattered spirit, trusting in our gracious Lord above, as this season of life bears down, showing its horrors, but also its hope.

Mill Creek Park, October 1997:
Albuquerque, Rio Grande Bosque, November 2000:

see chel's musings going private. . .

2008-09-04T13:51:00.000-07:00

I was really hoping I would be able to keep my blog open to anyone who wanted to read it, keeping it honest, open, and heartfelt. Sometimes expressing the depths of my soul, other times sharing the laughter of both everyday and once-in-a-lifetime joys. And everything in between.

I have been touched by many different blogs, at one point or another, depending on what I was experiencing at that moment in my life. My wish in keeping a public blog was that I, too, could share something that might make a difference in another's life. Maybe someone who lost a loved one. Possibly a mom having "one of those days," the ones that creep in before you even have a chance. A lonely soul thinking they were the only one out there struggling with a particular issue. Parents trying to make sense of their child's disorder when the world seems so unfairly stacked against them. Someone looking for a smile.

I had to make a choice between continuing to write the only way I know how or purposefully alter my writing into something unrecognizable to me and not a reflection of life, in each and every one of its colors. Most importantly, I do not want information shared in my writing used to hurt my family in any way. The decision, though it saddens me, was an easy one to make. I not only will not compromise my family, but I refuse to compromise my writing.

By changing my blog status to "private," I am able to continue writing from my heart; keep friends and family up-to-date on our lives, full of every color; and stay disciplined in thought and transcription. And God willing, the right words will find the right person at the right time, whether my blog is private or not.

I probably will not switch over to private for a couple of weeks to give people a chance to catch this post. Please email me at michlheath@qwest.net and let me know if you would like to still be able to access my blog. I will add your email to the authorized list and you will receive an invitation to have access to my blog through three avenues. Two of them require a Google account (which is not difficult to set up) and the third one is a "guest" access. The only problematic thing about the "guest" access is that you will need to get a new invitation every two weeks. Even if you do not know me personally, but have been following my blog through another blog or because you know a friend or family member of mine, just email me and let me know who you are and I'll send an invitation out. I really didn't want to take this step but, unfortunately, found it necessary. I look forward to keeping as many of you as possible! Michele

Clean Sweep, Garage Edition

2008-09-03T08:40:00.001-07:00

I am at a loss for words to describe the triumph of this accomplishment. To finally be able to give Wink back the only part of the house that is truly his domain, wow, that feels so good! (OK, yeah, minus the Luis Gonzales life-size poster, the Yorkie on pink, and the princess armoire.)

Now paying the price for sitting on the cement while sorting through (what seemed like) endless piles, my tail bone feels like it has disengaged from my rear end. Not that I blame it, I wish I could disengage from my rear end. No matter, I am just so darn happy to have gotten over this hurdle that has long been looming over our household. Of course, now, the only clean place in our house would be these two out of three car garage stalls. Oh well, at least the men on the block will rejoice. Clean path to the beer fridge. . .

Just to show that I didn't wave my magic wand or twitch my nose (Wink hates it when I resort to witchcraft) to go from heap to clean sweep, here are some pics of the process:

At this point, I wanted to cry - I had already spent 2 days working:

12 doses of xanax later, feeling a little more confident. Through the entire process, Wink would immediately get rid of even the smallest pile of stuff I had ready to go (either to Goodwill or the dump). Very smart thinking on his part as we watched Caly take back many items that had been in the garage ready to go for months. (We started to overhaul her room a couple of weeks ago and thought we were just about done until she saw her long lost piles in the garage.)Actually broke away from the garage for a few hours to attend the Diamondbacks game with friends. After a great show against LA the night before, we were hoping for a "sweep" of the baseball kind, but it was not in the cards. They lost miserably, 6-2. Because Los Angeles is only 5 hours away, many die hard fans make the trip to Phoenix to watch their team. I swear more than 50% of the stands were filled with these people. Either that or Dodger fans are extremely obnoxious. You choose. And who the heck is this Manny Ramirez fellow anyway? Yes, he can sure hit the ball, but I find something deplorable about teams trading players at the last possible moment just to make it to the playoffs. I may be a bit old school here, but what happened to team (and city, for that matter) loyalty? Teamwork - work done by a team; unity of action. How can a team be a team when players' and owners' loyalties lie with no one but themselves. Ugh!!! If the Dodgers win the World Series this year, it won't be because they admirably worked and grew together as a team. It will be because they employed a person in the last hour to get them there. (And it's not just the Dodgers - I am equally disgusted with all who try to "cheat" the system - Diamondbacks have been included on that list several times over the years as well as those who cover their license plates with that ridiculous plastic product so the red light/speeding cameras can't clearly photograph their number, those that use technicalities to get out of a crime, parents dropping kids off at school who don't follow the legal and school rules on "traffic flow", and drivers who know darn well that their lane is going to end but race up to cut you off for that one more car's length. Hmmmm. . .that was quite the rant, maybe I need some xanax right now! ) As of today, the Diamondbacks are 1.5 games ahead of the Dodgers in the National League West. It doesn't seem fitting to include this silly picture of Wink and I after such a rant, but here it is anyway. It was Eric Byrnes night (even though the poor guy has been on the disabled list since July 1st), hence the crazy hair baseball caps. Eric Byrnes provided that much needed "spunk" and comradety factor to the team, that extra edge found only when the team connects through a player like this. He is a fan favorite and gravely missed! P.S. Thanks for the picture Diana : ) And that is not a margarita I am holding - it is lemonade - for those of you who might be concerned that 12 xanax pills and a margarita might not be a good mix.

24 doses of xanax later:

And finally, after a total of 36 doses of xanax, Wink pulls in the truck:

And then Chris, with the mustang, after he helped me haul all the "keepers" back inside:

Look! Two of three stalls in the garage actually have cars in them! But, all that work and the poor van still sits scorching in the sun. What? Oh, you want to know where in the world I put all the stuff I judged worthy of keeping? Well, in the dining room, of course. Where else? Mocha is looking at me like, "you're kidding me, right?" My September goal is, in the words that my wise Aunt Dee Dee lives by, "a place for everything and everything in its place." It's only taken me 40+ years to realize she was on to something!
Not only did I make the deadline for the garage clean-up, but I made it by 4:45 p.m. Labor Day afternoon! About 7 hours to spare and in time to play "Hangman" with Caly before bedtime:

Silly me, assuming she was thinking of Chris. These days it is all about the Jonas brothers:

So she tried the cute factor to redeem herself:And, last, but not least, Caly's answer to financial difficulty: Of course when the game boards come out, so do the pets. I really think Autumn believes her part is to lay in the box:
This reminds me of how I look and feel in my clothes and I am just as crabby about it:
Not wanting to be further insulted, Autumn retreats to her throne:

Then we have this beautifully still portrait of Mocha. . .

. . .only because she is fixing to point the hamster!

And that concludes our family's Labor Day weekend, the rest of the United States' official end of summer. We, on the other hand, are in for more of the same - 100 plus degree weather throughout the rest of the week. Yes, I know, life could be worse.

P.S. I just want to make sure no one took me seriously about the xanax. While there was an occasional need for some over the weekend, I assure you it was my normal dosage.

Weekend Plans. . .

2008-08-28T09:01:00.000-07:00

. . .the garage!!!

Wink said the garage either gets cleaned over the long weekend or he starts randomly loading things into the truck for delivery to the thrift store. If it weren't for my OCD, the "randomly loading" option (or was that a threat?!) sounds good to me. But we all know I really don't have an "option" here, as taking the stuff away without me doing a thorough "once over" (OK, maybe three times over) just might send me over the edge, so out to the garage I go. Please send an emergency crew to find me if I am not out by Tuesday.

P.S. I am so behind on updating my blog. . .hang in there with me, I'll be back at it soon! Unless, of course, I never find my way out of the garage. . .maybe I should leave breadcrumbs.