August Rush

This is hands down the most powerful film I have seen all year! It has had such a profound effect on me, that describing it is difficult. Perhaps it is the parallels between it and my own life that make it feel so real.

I love music. I hear it everywhere. I find it in the most unusual of places, just like the young man in the story. I hear music in the wind, in the honking of car horns, in the thunder and lightning of a storm. I hear it literally everywhere. Watching this boy turn what he hears from life into a work of art was truly moving. But it was more than that...this boy was the child of two young people who didn't really plan on him. Without giving away the story, lets just say that he begins his life without parents.

This reminds me of the child I gave up for adoption nearly 22 years ago; a boy. I learned not long ago that he was attending college, majoring in computer science, and would have a minor in music when he was finished. While I have tried searching for him, and someone out there knows who and where he is, I have come up empty. I can only hope that he is safe and sound; that he has a good life, and that he is using the talents that God has given him. I hope that one day we will meet again. I also want him to know that I always wanted him. I have always loved him and wanted nothing but the best for him. I don't know his name, or where he lives. I don't know where he is going to college, or who his adoptive parents are. But, I do know the following:

Born: 05/13/1986

City: Cedar Rapids, Iowa

Hospital: Mercy Hospital

Adoption Agency: Catholic Charities

Maybe I'll get lucky; maybe he will be looking for me, find this post, and I'll get an email.

Maybe.

See the movie, whatever you do. It's beautiful from beginning to end.

Beantown & The Big Apple

No, this is not a blog about cooking, recipes, or food; not today anyway! Today my focus is on those two metropoli (is that a word?), Boston and New York City. I visited both of them this past weekend with MacKenzie. This was her Christmas present - and mine for that matter. A young lady named Melissa who used to babysit the kids for me (I may have mentioned her before) lives in Boston now. She has been wanting Mac and I to visit for some time, and finally we got the chance! The visit goes somewhat like this:

Thursday 11/01 9:37am: board flight to Chicago. Get the worst pilot in history who lands on one wheel, and bounces 4 times down the runway until he finally slams on the brakes and shoves us all into the people sitting in the seats in the next row. This is Mac's first flight ever, so you know she is freaking out. She looks at me and asks apprehensively, "Mom...is it ALWAYS like that?" I assure her that it not the norm. She then compares the rest of our landings to that one, and is pleasantly surprised to find out for herself that rough landings are the exception rather than the rule (I got lucky with that one!).

We have a 2 hour layover in Chicago O'Hare...eat lunch, sit around, and people watch.

We board the next leg of our flight and sleep the rest of the way, landing in Boston 4 hours after our arrival in Chicago.

Please keep in mind that Melissa does not own a car. She either walks or rides the subway everywhere she needs to go. I'm up for an adventure - granted, I had no idea what I was in for!

That evening we walked a few blocks from her apartment to the most marvelous little neighborhood restaurant and had dinner. A good night's sleep followed as the next two days would be packed with activity.

Friday 11/02 - early morning. Board the Greyhound bus for New York City. It is nearly a 5 hour trip from Beantown to the Big Apple, with beautiful scenery along the way. The trees in Massachusetts are changing now, and the brilliant yellows and reds are everywhere. Connecticut too is blazing with color. Mac and I listen to our iPods, sleep and read the time away. Before we know it, we are entering the city. We enter from the east - in the Bronx. It isn't the nicest part of the city; full of apartment projects, run down businesses, and graffiti on every building. We head further in , cross a bridge, and the New York skyline that everyone is familiar with, comes into view. The Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, and the startling absence of the World Trade Center. I don't know why I expected the towers to be there...I knew that they wouldn't be. It was a moving reality to see them missing from their place of honor at the table that is Manhattan.

Once we exit the bus, we hit the subway and head for Times Square. What a magical place! We ate lunch at Planet Hollywood where I was able to compare my hands with those of mega-stars like Michael J. Fox, Cher, and Sylvester Stallone. The food was good, and the service was wonderful. I would love to go back. There is a Starbucks on every corner, and that is not an exaggeration. We stood in line for about 40 minutes for theater tickets; better than paying full price! We ended up getting tickets for "Rent," the Broadway musical; we didn't rent theater tickets. Then the adventure truly begins...

We decide that we should find our hotel, rest up and get ready to go to the theater district to see the show. We board the subway, or what we think is the right train, and proceed to ride what seems like 2 hours until we decided that we are going in the wrong directions. We switch trains, to find that we are NOW going in the wrong direction. One last switch to the first train we were on, and we are good to go. We ride to Queens. The neighborhood we land in very cute, and very ethnic. More Latino and Asian than anything else. The people are friendly and accommodating. Especially when we walked 8 blocks out of our way just to find out that our hotel was at least 9 blocks in the opposite direction. Yikes! By this time, it is getting dark...really dark. I'm not showing my apprehension, I don't want Mac to get scared. When we finally find our hotel, we have enough time to drop off our bags, change clothes, and head back out. A train ride back and we are back in the theater district.

If I were to give a review of "Rent," I would go on and on forever. I would use words like, "Powerful, Intense, and Moving." I have to say that it was one of the most penetrating productions I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. I laughed, cried, and felt true emotion for the characters and what they were dealing with there in front of me. MacKenzie, once she understood what was going on, was very moved by the story. I would love to see it again.

It was late by the time we got back to our hotel, but I slept well nonetheless.

Saturday 11/03: Roaming around NYC; shopping, sightseeing, visiting Chinatown, Central Park, and of course, Times Square one more time before we have to leave. We saw people eating what looked like slimy eel in Chinatown, we resisted buying one of the "genuine Gucci" bags the vendors were selling there - I did pick up a cashmere scarf, and a bunch of 5 for $10 I Love NY shirts. We ate at a real Chinese restaurant - I will not repeat here what I saw on the menu; oh what the heck; Anyone ready for some Frog w/noodles, or fried pig intestines? No? That's too bad. Actually, I stuck with the sweet and sour chicken - at least I think it was chicken...

We spent some time at M&Ms World - yes a store devoted to the king of candy, the colorful crown gem of the chocolate industry, the M&M. What a blast!

Sunday 11/04: More of the same, but this time in Boston. We visited Boston Commons, Harvard University, the Public Gardens, the new state house and the old state house, and then...Quincy Market. What a fabulous place! It is like a huge outdoor mall with a food court that runs straight down the middle. Everything you could possibly crave is represented there.

We saw the boardwalk, and the harbor. As the light faded into the evening, the lights of the city came on, and it became a virtual fairyland of light. We ate dinner that night at the Cheesecake Factory - one of my all time faves. It was a great way to end our visit.

Monday 11/05: We flew home.

I will never be able to thank Melissa enough for sheltering us and being our "tour guide" while we were there. It was a wonderful experience and one that I would love to repeat someday.

I love ya, Mel!!

Exposure

If there is one thing I have learned over the years, it is to be straight with people. Tell them how you feel, be honest, and regardless of the outcome, take your medicine like a grown up. Why is it then, that although I know this is the right thing to do, I cannot manage to live by it. Telling the ones I care about how I feel has never been the problem.; I can do that with the best of them. My feelings for the ones I love are worn proudly on my sleeve. One only need to look at my face and read my expression to know what kind of mood I'm in. I do not hide my emotions well; whether they be happy or sad.
Honesty really isn't a problem for me either, but it can be a relative term. I always tell the truth, but sometimes not the whole truth. Maybe I want to be open and honest, but I don't want the other person to think me too forward, or too direct. I want to protect the ones I care about the most. I want to protect them from these powerful emotions that sometimes overwhelm and often expose me. I guess I think that if I keep some of the facts to myself, they will not think of me as ... well... obsessive. I do that...I obsess over things that I cannot control. You would think given my superior intellect (ha! that's funny right there!) that I would just leave the things I cannot control to God and move on, but sometimes I really have a hard time with that.
There are people (friends and family) in my life that have made such an impact on me that I have difficulty expressing it, and sometimes in my quest for emotional release, I come on a little bit too strong.
What I'm trying to say (and perhaps poorly) is that I appreciate all of those who have touched my life.
You have laughed with me, cried with me, stood beside graves with me.
You have been a source of inspiration, of guidance, and of light.
You have filled me to overflowing with love, with faith, and with hope.
You have held me, rocked me, and loved me.
You have sang with me, walked with me, and screamed with me.
You have prayed with me, for me, and about me.
You have stood, worked, and learned beside me.
You have led me, followed me, and carried me.
You have comforted me, fought with me, and taught me.
You are my family...
...my friends...
...my teachers...
...my soul mates...
I LOVE YOU - and that IS the truth

One Chapter Closes...Another Opens

I had an average kind of day yesterday; I got up, I worked, I came home. Of course there were things in between, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then, I got the mail.

There was an envelope there from the school I go to - college that is. It was a plain, brown envelope, with a clasp - again, nothing out of the ordinary, but I couldn't figure it out. I opened it and inside was a folder. Not just an average folder though. It was black, shiny, and on the front had the name of my school in gold lettering. I opened it, and inside it read:

On the recommendation of the Faculty and under the authority of the Iowa Department of Education, and the College Board of Trustees, Kirkwood Community College hereby confers the two year degree

Associate of Arts

upon

Cara J. Gilds

Who has satisfactorily fulfilled all the requirements prescribed by the college for this degree.

Given at Cedar Rapids, Iowa, this month of May 2007.

Whoa! I was totally not expecting this right now! Interestingly enough, the date on this is May of this year, so that tells me that I was qualified to graduate this past Spring! I am ecstatic! I am the first of my siblings to get a college education. I am planning to take what I have learned and transfer to Mt Mercy College here in town so that I can get my Bachelors degree in Business. I will graduate by the spring of 2009. I am on my way and it is a really good feeling!

Lexie

As everyone knows, things have been in turmoil for me in recent months. Especially regarding
my health. As a result, my stress level is high, my relaxation level is low, and my temper is just short of blowing a fuse at any given moment. Anything and everything can set me off; if the kids leave a light on, finding dirty clothes in the hallway, or a wet towel on the bathroom floor. Even Larry can also be on the receiving end of my wrath, and all he has to do is ask, "Can you (do something) for me?" That is all it takes; my eyes burn with the fire of the ages, my forked tongue slithers out of my thinly lined mouth like a snake's, and my fingernails turn to sharpened claws ready to tear flesh from bone. Of course, they all know that my bark is worse than my bite as I do not have the energy to skin a chicken, let alone tear flesh from bone.

A few months ago, we were visiting my friend Karen who lives up the street. It was movie night at their house and as we all sat on the living room floor, enjoying popcorn and each other's company, Karen's 3 year-old yellow Labrador Retriever, Callie, sat close beside me, welcoming the attention I was giving her. If the petting stopped, Callie would look at me with eyes the color of burnt sugar, a true sad-puppy-dog expression on her face. Then, when the petting resumed, she would sigh a deep sigh as she relaxed beneath my touch once again. I looked at Larry and said, "I want a puppy." "No dogs," was his simple reply. This was how the conversation went until about 3 weeks ago.

Again, we were with Karen and Amanda at their home (they have more room than we do), and I was on the deck throwing a tennis ball to Callie who was psychotically fetching it and begging for more. I was explaining to Karen what was going on with me medically. I was sad, feeling sorry for myself, and wondering why this was happening to me. At that moment it was all about me, and frankly, I was tired of it. Callie brought me the tennis ball, wanting me to throw it for her once again. I looked into her eyes, and there, staring up at me, were the eyes of a soul so comforting, showing me that true love CAN be unconditional, and all I had to do was throw the ball. I looked at my husband and said, "Now that I'm sick, I'm getting a puppy." He simply smiled at me and said nothing. I resolved that the next day, I would begin my search for a puppy of my own. A black or yellow Lab, female, about 8 weeks old. I wanted one that I could train myself, that didn't already have hang ups or issues.

On October 3rd, Larry sent me at email at work that told me he and Steve (a guy he works with and a friend of ours) were going to visit Steve's dad to look at a turf problem that he had been having in his lawn. Larry said that he would be late getting home. I told him to just do what he had to do and told him that my mom was planning to come over to visit. It was no big deal, as Larry has done this kind of thing before. That night at about 8:30, he got home. Surprisingly, Steve came in the house first. I greeted him warmly as always, and then I realized that he had a "friend" with him. A small, black, Labrador puppy followed him into the house and started sniffing around. Now, Steve has two young sons, so immediately, I said, "Oh Steve! Did you get a new puppy?" He smiled and said to me, "No...YOU did." It took a moment for those words to sink in. I did? Where was Larry? He was standing out in the yard with a big box containing a huge wire kennel. Sure enough, the puppy was MINE. She was a female, 9 weeks old, and I had naming rights.

Her name is Lexus. Yes, after the car. Why? Well, she is shiny and black and reminded me of a shiny black Lexus LS460. We call her Lexie unless she is being naughty. The vet said that she is already 20 lbs., and that she would probably top out at about 70. She is beautiful, with a smooth coat and little black eyes. Her face is just perfect and I love how she searches my face, trying to understand what I'm telling her. She has been a godsend to me. Larry says that I have perked up since she came home with him and I would have to agree. She is a new light in the darkness for me; as corny as that may sound. She makes me smile with her little bark, and her constant wiggling.

My husband's love is apparent in all he does. I never went into detail with him about what kind of puppy I wanted. He just knew. He just wanted to make me happy again.

Thank you, Honey.
From me and Lexie

Autumn Nervousness

It would appear that Fall has arrived. The Autumnal Equinox occurred at precisely 4:51am on 09/23. Of course, I really don't know what that means. I thought an Equinox was a car made by a currently striking American automaker. Well, my friend Joe, who is a meteorologist, explained that the Autumnal Equinox "is one of two times of the year when the sun crosses the equator, and the day and night are of approximately equal length." OK, that is cool. It is also cool outside! This morning when I went to work we had already hit our high of 75 degrees. By the time I came home from class tonight it was 59 and falling. Regardless of the temperature and the shortness of the day, I love Fall. I do. It is my favorite season hands down. I like the crisp air, the soft ground, and the bright color of the trees. With Fall I'm reminded that it is time for nature to take a long winter nap, and begin the renewal process.
Perhaps it is time for my own renewal process. Perhaps it is time for me to begin healing.

Tomorrow, I begin my journey. I will undergo testing so that my pulmonologist can figure out how best to treat this disease that is making it difficult for me to breathe. Tomorrow is the chest CT scan, and the echo cardiogram. I won't have the results back for a couple of weeks when I meet with my doctor again. It is going to be a long day, and not very enjoyable, but I will be a cooperative patient; as always. I'm a little nervous although I have been through this all before. The processes are all too familiar. I know what pain to expect. I know that when I'm finished, I will feel like I have been through a fight. I know that I will also feel relief. Relieved that this step is over, that I can look ahead to the next step, and that I can hope for the future.

Time for "Us"

This was such a beautiful day. There is no other way to put it - beautiful is the best description. The temperature was in the upper 70s, there was a nice breeze, and lots of sunshine. Tyler and MacKenzie were off to their dad's for the weekend, so it was just Larry and I. We got up early and went to church, and afterward, Larry suggested that we take my new car out for a little road trip. I can't remember the last time that he and I just got away for an afternoon together.



We drove to Dyersville for lunch at the Country Junction restaurant, which incidently, has the best pie in the entire world! Then we headed to Dubuque to visit the Arboretum. They have a beautiful botanical garden there, and with Larry being a horticulturist, he was in his element. It was apparent that the plants had sustained some early frost damage, but many plants were still blooming. The bees and the butterflies were getting one last sip of nectar before fall days and frosty nights settle in. They have done a lot of work there at the Arboretum. It's hard to believe that it is all done by volunteers. There was even a lady out there today weeding the expansive Hosta beds. She greeted us with a friendly, "Hello! Beautiful day, isn't it?" as we walked by on the trail. I was armed with my digital camera, snapping photos along the way. I'm no Ansel Adams, but I do like to take pictures. One of the new features at the park is a large lagoon filled with Koi. Some of them were the size of a small school bus, and when they saw people at the edge of the water, they would swarm there thinking that food was coming. I imagine that they have been conditioned to that behavior. The Arboretum grounds are slightly rolling, and there are a few steep hills which were a little challenging. We walked through what was left of the Dahlia beds, the Canna Lilies, and the wildflowers. Some of them still hanging on to their blooms, and some even have yet to open. Lastly, passing the rose garden, I saw a peach colored rose. It was brilliant in color, and looked as though it had recently opened to its peak. The rest of the blooms on the plant were dried up already, and the plant was nearly ready for hibernation. Not this bloom though. It was still green around the stem, and the petals were still soft and strong. This rose had yet to succumb to the forces that nature had in mind for it, and it was not ready to give up its one last bloom. As I stood there looking at it and appreciating its beauty, I wondered; If God allows this rose bush to bloom in the fall of its life, then He can help me to make the most of mine.

Today in Bible Study, our pastor reminded me that Jesus said, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28).

I need to remember that. He will give me rest. He will take the burden of illness from me, and He will work this all for my good.

All of this remembered as I stood and stared at that peach colored rose.



On the way home, Larry drove, and I slept. Larry held my hand all the way home. He hasn't done that in ages.
Maybe he really does still love me after all.

A New Challenge

As if I didn't have enough to deal with.

In recent weeks and months, I have not felt like myself. I have been tired, dizzy sometimes, and just kind of "blah." Since it was beginning to interfere with my life, I decided to mention it to my pulmonologist as I had my yearly appointment scheduled anyway. He thought this would be a good time to do a pulmonary stress test to see how my pulmonary system (heart and lungs) react to exercise. I told you all about this before; Well, now I have a diagnosis...

I have Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension (PAH). It is a disease of the pulmonary arteries, where the pressure required for the heart to pump blood through them is strained due to a blockage or thickening of the arterial walls. The doctor is pretty sure that this is due to my past episodes of Pulmonary Emboli (blood clots) and more than likely, it is old clots that are taking up the space. I'm having an echo cardiogram (ultra sound) of my heart next week and a chest CT. These will measure the actual pressure level, help the doctor figure out what is causing the blockage and determine how much damage has already been done. There is no cure for PAH and it is progressive. I won't get any better. They can treat the symptoms as they occur with medication, and someday, I will probably have to have oxygen therapy. Right now, though, they are looking at just increasing my Coumadin dosage to thin my blood further and allow it to pass more easily through the arteries. I am limited in what I can do physically - nothing strenuous. I'm tired a lot. And since this news just came last week, I'm still dealing with it. I should have the final results of all my tests in about 3 weeks. So - I'll keep you in the loop as I know more.
If you would like more information on PAH, you can go to this link: http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/pulmonary-hypertension/DS00430/DSECTION=1 It has a lot of information.

I know that God will not give me more than I can handle and that He will use this for my good. I have to believe that. God is the only one who is going to get me through this - one way or the other.

My Brightest Bright Spots - My Friends

Today, I felt like I was moving in slow motion. I got quite a bit done at work, although it didn't feel that way. What was this slow motion-like feeling? Was I sad? A little. Was I depressed? Not really (and yes, there is a difference). I know what it was; I was lonely. I was needing my friend-my best friend.

Her name is Ami. She and I share the same interests, the same values, and even similar diseases. Isn't that funny? Who would have thought friendship could be found based on a medical condition? People tell me it happens all the time. Well, it is a first for me. Anyway, Ami and I both have a blood clotting disorder. I'm always harping on her to make sure she gets her blood work done and takes her medicine like she is supposed to, and she is always harping on me to take my own advice and believe her when she tells me that "everything is going to be ok." I love her because she understands me, and because she doesn't let me get away with anything. I don't know what I would do without her. She is one of the brightest bright spots in my life. We all have those people; the ones that can make us smile just by being in the same general vicinity. I'm fortunate to have several.



Take for instance, Karen. Karen is Amanda's mom. You remember her, right? Amanda is the one that Tyler is best friends with, that is in show choir with Ty and Mac, and goes to school with them? Well, Karen is my"life raft." She has always been there when I needed to cry...or laugh. She is there when I just want to hang out with someone, watch movies, or eat ice cream. I can completely be myself around her. I think sometimes, that she could have easily been my sister. She assures me that I'm not crazy, even when I'm feeling like I'm out of my mind. I love her because she gets what its about. She knows what it means to make sacrifices for the sake of the children, but she also knows that we moms need our time too.



Then there is Bob. We work together - well, not together, but in the same building. He is in a different department, on a different floor. Our communication is generally via email, or in a committee meeting, but he is easy to read and for that I'm grateful. Bob gives me permission to feel like I'm OK. He gives it to me straight, and whether I like it or not, "it" is the truth. Like today: I emailed him to see how he was feeling (he had broken his ribs a couple weekends ago doing stuff a man his age shouldn't be doing), and I thought I would bring him up to date on what was going on with me. He sent back the following message: "Keep me posted............ I know you didnt ask, but my recommendation is start walking EVERY day, take vitamin C, cut way back on sodium and saturated fats, drink TONS of water and get plenty of sleep. Doc Bob out ;-) " I love unsolicited advice. ;-) His emails make me smile, and I feel fortunate to have him as a friend...another bright spot.



With these three individuals at my side, I can't lose. I will never have to laugh alone, I will never have to cry alone, and I will never have to fight alone. They are my best friends, and although I don't tell them very often, I love them.



My Brightest Bright Spots.

No Improvement

The pulmonary function test I underwent yesterday was interesting. I was met in the pulmonary testing lab by Lori, a cheerful, yet sarcastic, middle-aged woman. She was obviously tired from a long day; her hospital lab jacket was unbuttoned, and the white shirt underneath stained from whatever it was she had for lunch. I found out, much to my delighted surprise, that Lori is a genius! Let me explain...

If you have never had a pulmonary function test, this just might interest you. If you have had the pleasure you can stop reading now. Still with me? OK. As with any testing at the hospital, paperwork must be done. "What medications do you take?" "What allergies do you have?" "What blood type is your first born child?" The formalities done, the fun begins.
"What wrist would you like me to use?" Lori asks as she wields a syringe with a 2 inch needle attached to the end.
"What wrist?" I ask apprehensively. I knew what was coming next.
"For the blood gas I have to do. It has to be arterial blood so we draw it from the..."
"Yes, I know where it has to come from. I am a real chicken about this, so I have to ask...how long have you been doing this?" My face must have been ashen. Lori looked at me calmly and said, "24 years. Is that OK?" She smiled and immediately put me at ease. I extended my left hand to her, and she placed it with the inside of my wrist facing up, on the table. I looked away, not having the heart to watch this procedure. I barely felt the needle go in, and I didn't feel her puncture the artery. I looked to my arm and saw the blood, very dark red, slowly filling the syringe. "How did you do that?" I asked her.
"Very slowly," she said. I proceeded to tell her about previous blood gas procedures I had endured where the lab tech, or the nurse, jabbed the needle in and then had to dig for the artery before finally getting the sample they needed. This always left me bruised and full of anxiety. She shook her head and proceeded to explain that the only way to do this blood test was slowly and deliberately to minimize the pain. "Not everything needs to be done quickly, even in the ER," she said. Lori was now my best friend.
Next came the prep work for the test itself. I changed into sweatpants, while Lori gathered the supplies she was going to need to "hook" me up to the computer. I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the thought of me hardwired to some kind of monster computer like out of a sci-fi novel. My bare chest, neck, shoulders and forehead (yes, my forehead) had to be cleaned off with alcohol. Adhesive patches with electrodes attached to the places that had been cleaned...11 in all. Wires seemed to be sprouting from all over me. Just as I was wondering how we were going to keep all of these things on, Lori appeared with a piece of mesh. It was stretchy, like elastic, but soft like gauze dressing. It was in the form of a tube, and she said that she was going to put it over my head. I'm thinking, yeah right you are. You are NEVER going to get that thing over my head and around me. But, she did. She cut holes for my arms to slip through, and frankly, I thought it looked pretty attractive. Over that, was a blue scrub shirt -- now this was great! I love the soft cotton they are made of, and the loose fit was very comfortable. Now, we just had to wait for the doctor to come in.
About 15 minutes later, in walks Dr. C., my pulmonologist. This is the man who treats me for the blood clotting disorder that I suffer from. He, too, looked like he'd had a long, difficult day, but he was still as personable as always. I climbed on the bike (stationary, of course) and Lori hooked me up to the computer. She slipped a white cotton headband over my forehead to hold the electrode in place that would measure the oxygen in my blood. The "Darth Vader" mask was next; a blue neoprene/sponge mask with a breathing tube attached to the front. This covered my nose and mouth, allowed me not only to breathe but to talk, swallow, etc., which was quite comforting. I was dreading having a tube shoved down my throat, drooling and gagging as I pedaled my way into the medical journals. The test began and I pedaled...keeping it at 60 rpms or above...the tension slowly but constantly increasing...5 minutes...6 minutes...Lori checks my blood pressure...8 minutes...10 minutes..."Give me another minute and a half, Cara," cheers Dr. C...12 minutes...Lori checks my blood pressure again...14 minutes...Hello! I'm dying here!...15 minutes...STOP! Lori runs another blood gas. This time I'm so exhausted, I don't notice that she uses the same hole as before. Dr. C. is reading over the information that the computer was spitting out at him. I'm breathing heavily, sweating, but all in all, feeling pretty good. At least, I didn't pass out. Dr. C tells me then that he let me go an extra 4 minutes longer than most because I was "doing so well." Sadist. As Lori gets me unhooked, removes the mask and the headband, Dr. C. comes over to me and says, ever so gently, "You did great. Your oxygen/CO2 transfer was good. I'm concerned that lactic acid built up in your leg muscles very quickly, which isn't quite what we would like to see. Also, your EKG is abnormal." Abnormal? He said, my EKG was "abnormal." He continued to explain that compared with the EKG I had done last year, that there had been significant changes. He is suspecting Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension. What the hell is that? He said that he would order an ultrasound of my heart to look at it further, and then we would talk more about it when I came in to see him on the 20th. Interestingly enough, my mind kept drifting back to that disturbing statement, "...your EKG is abnormal." What does that MEAN exactly? Of course by the time I decided I wanted to ask, he was already gone, and it was just me and Lori. The wires were removed, I unstuck the adhesive patches, and changed into a clean T-Shirt I'd brought along. Two hours from my arrival at the testing center, I walked out of the hospital, knowing only that there was something wrong with my heart.
Thankfully, I had class to divert my thoughts for a little while. There is nothing better than a writing course, taught by a bespectacled, salt and pepper-haired, semi-good looking professor (who is a little obsessive about correct grammar) to take one's mind off of one's abnormal EKG. I found out that I received an A on one assignment and a B+ on the other (I think). Not bad. We laughed as we studied the grammar snafus of previous students, which was a good way to lighten the load on my mind. Then, Professor B. said that he was going to let us out an hour early. Damn. I wasn't ready to face real life yet. Leaving meant going home and fielding questions from my family about my test at the hospital. I wasn't ready to talk about it. If I talked about it out loud, then it would become true. Still, I couldn't stay at school.
At home, Tyler asked me about the test almost right away. We went downstairs to my office, I began explaining what they did to me, and we looked up Pulmonary Hypertension on the computer. The Mayo Clinic has good information, as does the American Heart Association and the Pulmonary Hypertension Association. What I learned was that there is no cure, the symptoms are treatable by nasty medications with horrid side effects, and that it is almost always fatal. I'm not ready to deal with this. Especially since we don't know for sure if that is the problem. I'll have to wait. I have 8 days to think about it, worry about it, panic over it. I called my mother and told her about my test and the abnormal EKG. I shouldn't have called her until I knew more. Now, I have her all worried about it.

I'm going to hope that whatever is causing my symptoms has a name. I'm going to hope that it can be treated. I'm going to hope that I get to see my children grow up, get married, and give me grandchildren. I'm going to hope.

Stress? What Stress?

Stress can take numerous forms. It can be positive or negative, healthy or unhealthy. Stress can come from a number of people or places; work, home, the boss, friends, family, pets, etc. Some would say that moms are experts in the fields of stress management...

If that is true - I WANT THEM TO TELL ME THEIR SECRETS!!!

I'm going crazy. There, I've said it. It is now official. I am completely and totally out of my mind. Kids I can handle. Going back to school, is do-able. I truly do love my job. My husband is a decent enough guy that is easy to live with. Why is it then, when combined, the preceding put me at the end of my proverbial rope?

Kids: Yes, they are back to school and learning lots of new things. Mac is earning straight As already and adjusting fabulously. Tyler, in 8th grade and at the end of his middle school career, has fallen back into the old habit of doing his homework but not turning it in? His teachers are helpful - full of suggestions for getting him organized. Evidently, they do not understand my son. I could go on and on about the challenges of having an ADHD child. Some of you would take the role of the skeptic, saying that he isn't ADHD, it's just an excuse for laziness. Others of you would be empathetic to the situation. I need to work with him more - that is a virtual certainty. But - when?

College: When I went back to school in the fall of 2003, people asked me how I would fit it all in. My response was, "It will just fit." I was right about that. School crammed its way into my life and the consequences have been late nights (like this one), less sleep, but yes, growth and knowledge. I wouldn't change a thing. There is now light at the end of the tunnel with graduation just within reach. Spring of 2009 is my goal; and I WILL get there. I will wear my battle scars proudly, but I will get there.

Work: I said I love my job. I do. I can't imagine doing anything else right now. Keep in mind, that if I weren't typing, I would be making this statement through clenched teeth with my fingers crossed behind my back. Deep breaths, Cara, deep breaths.

Husband: God bless Larry. He puts up with more than he really should have to and I love him for it. I suppose I don't tell him enough. I have been so stressed out lately, that just about everything I say is dripping with sarcasm, and it is not directed at him personally. When I'm like this, I guess I just find fault with everything and everyone.

And then there is my health. I'm not 40 yet, but these days, I feel 60. What I wouldn't give to have the energy level of most 40 year-olds I know. To be out playing with my kids, fielding softballs with the church softball team, to be running, biking and hiking. I can't. Something is amiss with my pulmonary function. I'm having a pulmonary stress test tomorrow that will hopefully shed some light on the issue.

I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, pray that I find resolution to my stress. Pray that I can truly give it up to God and let Him do the worrying. Right now, I find that most difficult.

A Late Night...

10:42 pm. Now, granted, this is not what many would call "late." My husband would though as he is typically asleep around 9pm. He's an early riser, so I can't blame him. I, on the other hand, could stay up into the wee hours. This is my quiet time. My time to reflect on my day, get in touch with my thoughts, and evaluate things. Sometimes that involves simply getting into my pj's, grabbing some water, and watching the news. Other times it is sitting here in front of the computer, emptying my mind of all the things that are weighing on my mind. Which reminds me -

SW Wisconsin has received more rain than they can handle over the past few weeks. Massive flooding has destroyed a lot of that area, and people are being left homeless. When we see coverage of these kinds of disasters on the news, we react with shock, sadness, even relief that it wasn't our home, family, or friends that were affected. I can admit to that when Hurricane Katrina devastated Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. This time though, it is a little different. A dear friend of mine, Theresa, is from SW Wisconsin. Her parents and her brother still live there. At least they did...until the floods destroyed their homes and they lost everything they had. Only the four corners of their foundations remained intact. The rest of what was left of the houses has washed away and the only hope to rebuild is if they do so eight feet higher than they initially were. These families have to start again after a generation of living in the same place. They are forced to find a new place to live, a new way of living, and all in a short period of time. Many at our church have offered to to go and help with the clean up efforts, but we were told Sunday that the homes have been condemned. The only efforts that will be allowed are those to scrape away the debris and allow the residents to begin again. That is if they are willing and able to do so.

I ask this of my faithful friends, please keep Theresa's family in your prayers.

May God watch over them during this difficult time, and may His gentle hand work this for the good of all.

Amen.

Click here for examples of the damage: http://sevenels.net/flood/07flood.html

60th Wedding Anniversary

George and Lorayne Votrobeck will note their 60th wedding anniversary with a family dinner and a card shower hosted by their children. The former Lorayne Nebendahl and George Votrobeck exchanged marriage vows on Aug. 25, 1947, at the Little Brown Church in Nashua, Iowa. The couple’s children and spouses are Richard and Barb Votrobeck, Brenda and Terry Kerr, Robert and Mary Jo Votrobeck, Ronald and Maxine Votrobeck and Bonnie and Jim Biddle. They have 16 grandchildren and 20 great-grandchildren.

WOW! I can't describe the feeling of celebrating this special day with Grandma and Grandpa George. It seems like eons since I first joined their family. One would say that we are born into our families, we don't join them. Well, not so with me and the Votrobecks. Shall I explain?

Mom and my dad divorced when I was very young. Five, I believe. Mom met Bob Votrobeck soon after, and they hit it off immediately. Bob feel in love with all 4'10" of my mother's beautiful, blue-eyed self, and not long after, she brought him home to meet us (my brother, Jason and I). He seemed ok. Young, maybe a little wild and crazy, but fun. It was obvious that Mom and Bob were in love. They were married 18 months after meeting. We have called him "Dad" ever since. When we met Grandma and Grandpa "George," we were told that their names were George and Lorayne. That is what we called them - at first. But Grandpa had other plans. "You can call us Grandma and Grandpa George," he told me. I was afraid of him at first. To my 6 year old eyes he was massive. The tallest man I had ever seen in my life! He had HUGE hands that swallowed up my own. You see, Grandpa was a farmer. I remember looking into his face, and seeing the kindest, twinklingest eyes, and I remember feeling so welcome on his lap and in his big hugs. Grandpa is of course, older now, but his eyes are still the kindest and twinklingest, and I still feel welcome wrapped in one of his big bear hugs.

Then there was Grandma. I loved her hair. It was so curly and fun. She always had a big smile, a contagious laugh, and was the best cook in the entire world! I still feel that way about her. I love everything about Grandma. I have since the day we met.

You see, Jason and I were never the "step" grandchildren. We were simply accepted into their family. We were (and are) their grandchildren, just like the rest.

I'm proud to be part of those 16 grandkids, and I'm happy that my kids are members of the 20 great-grandkids.

Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa George for welcoming us into your wondeful family. Happy 60th Wedding Anniversary.

Love, Cara Jo

The Challenge

Quick! Someone please tell me that there is something more challenging than raising a 13 year-old boy! How is it that one minute they can be just a larger version of that lovable toddler and then the next, they can be so abominable you want to run as far away from them as possible? I will never understand it; and for good reason. After all, I am certainly not a boy and I cannot fathom what he is going through as a boy. I can't use the, "Oh, Honey. I know how you feel..." thing. Because I don't. I can only ensure that there is at least 3 feet of space between us at any given moment in case he spontaneously combusts.

How hard it must be to live with the male brain. This is not a male-bashing blog. This is simply an observation. No matter who they are. No matter their age or their intellectual level, men have issues with listening and memory. Most of the time the two go hand in hand. The first, listening...Tonight we were sitting in a local gourmet pizza place (just an excuse to charge more for crust, sauce and cheese). Tyler sat to my right. While perusing the menu, he insisted that he could eat a whole 12" pizza on his own. Deciding to pick my battles, I caved. He did pretty good. We were talking about our plans for the weekend. He wants to roam the mall with his friends, and I calmly explained that there are responsibilities at home he must tend to first. Keep in mind, that I do not expect anything out of my kids except that they keep their spaces picked up; void of empty milk glasses, dirty socks, and banana peels. Clean clothes should be put away. When there is no more room in the dresser, its time to organize and take a load to Goodwill. That is the plan for tomorrow. A compromise is reached - "Mom, if you let me go to Billy's tonight, I will get all my chores done in the morning and then go to the mall." I feel that's a fair trade, as I have lawn mowing to add to his list as well. I drop him off at Billy's and go home to do homework and catch up on my blog. The understanding is that he will be home at 10pm, and that he will get a ride from Billy's mom or dad. Well...It is now 11:10pm. I have just gotten off the phone with my son who told me that he was playing video games, lost track of time, and Billy's parents are asleep. Hmmm. It doesn't seem like he kept up his end of the bargain. I think consequences are in order. Perhaps a Saturday of helping me around the house is in order. It has to be done anyway. According to him, that is unreasonable.
Here is where listening and memory kick in - he remembered us speaking about our arrangement, but didn't hear the part about getting home on time. I call it "Male Pattern Selective Deafness," or MPSD for short. I'm sure that it afflicts about 99.9% of the male population of the United States. I'm not sure about other countries, as I have never been out of this one (does Canada count?).

I told my precious baby boy to come home. His response was, "Yeah right. Its DARK." Well, yes it is. Its the middle of the night. One would expect it to be dark. I took him there, it was his responsibility to get a ride home. He blew it. Am I wrong not to go and pick him up? We do not live in an area of high crime. I'm not terribly worried that he wouldn't make it home unscathed. At least I wasn't worried about it until I just reread that last sentence. I imagine that once I end this tirade, I will take my pajama clothed body outside, into my minivan, and pick him up along the road like a lost puppy. I can only hope that he has had his shots.

After all, his bite is definitely worse than his bark.

First Day of School 2007

Holy preps and skaters, Batman! My children have descended on the halls of middle school! Mac in her first year - as a 6th grader, and Tyler in his last - as an 8th grader. When did they decide to just grow up? When did they decide to join the drama that is adolescence? Turmoil and acne. Love and hate. To be or not to be -- you get the picture.

OK, I am being way too dramatic myself here. Tyler is in fact, in his last year of middle school, but in a way he is getting a taste of what high school is going to be like. He had homework the very first day. He likes his teachers, but there is a zero tolerance on late work. This is all going to be new for him. As long as he stays organized, he'll do just fine. He has already made one very grown up decision - forgoing football for mock-trial. Talk about the difference between day and night, snow and sun, etc! He has never been interested in athletics as a rule. He has always gravitated toward more, shall we say, intellectual pastimes. Not to say that athletes can't be intellectuals - it just isn't obvious to the whole world. Tyler has already participated in mock-trial for the last 2 years. He really enjoyed it and he did very well. Of course, there is also music. It's the 2nd day of school and he has already been awarded a solo in vocal class. Man-oh-man. Way to go, Buddy!

As for MacKenzie...her brother says that Mac is a "prep," (whatever that is) and if she doesn't stop it, he is going to have to "beat her up" a little. Like THAT is going to happen! I don't think so! Actually, the first day of school, Tyler defended her to another kid in the hallway. I guess no one can be mean to her except for him. Anyway, she is already fitting in just fine. I knew she would. She is still trying to find her place in the world, and she has plenty of time to do it. She is in the school show choir already, she is taking vocal, and she is finding that she likes most of her classes. She has a computer science class and isn't crazy about that teacher, but I told her to just be her normal, obedient, well behaved, self and she will do just fine. Next week - Mac gets braces. That will be fodder for a new entry I imagine.

I have also decided that I am officially losing my mind. I am relatively sure that I was told last Sunday that this Wednesday was the first night of choir practice at church. I showed up promptly at 7:00, waited till about 7:15 and when no one showed up, I headed back home. I sent an email to the director in hopes that everyone came down with some mysterious illness, so that I don't look like I'm some over-eager diva. Actually, I'm sure that I'll get over it. I'm never early for ANYTHING so, this should earn me a few laughs anyway.

Yesterday was MY first day of school too. I'm taking a Composition class geared toward business writing. It is sure to be a hoot, as there are 3 of my co-workers in the class, and the instructor has already cracked me up a few times. He is a very interesting person with a healthy sense of humor, dry, but well developed, and an obvious gift for the dramatic. He told us all to get to know our thesauruses this semester. I guess I'll have to make a "Word of the Week" list and try out a new one every now and then. I'll keep you posted.

Good night.

Mom vs. Tax-Free Holiday

This is the weekend where the government (can't remember if its all across the country or just here) that we don't have to pay sales tax on our clothing items. The purpose of this "holiday" is so that people will do their kids' school clothes shopping and give retailers a big kick in the bottom line so that they don't have to wait until the busy Christmas shopping season. I see it as a scam. They get you in with the thought of saving a ton of cash in sales tax. That is what I don't get -- how can one SAVE money when they are SPENDING it? It is leaving your hand, therefore it is not being saved, it is being spent. Hello! How difficult a concept is this??

Scam though it may be, I was there right alongside the other mom's trying to SPEND a little LESS money than we normally would. I took Tyler first. Now, Tyler being 13 one would think that he is pretty difficult to please. Actually, he is pretty easy. He knows what he likes, has really good taste, and is good about helping me not spend so much. He finds good bargains. However, he likes to shock me. He comes from around a rack of 8.99 t-shirts with one that is brown and on the front in bold, white letters, its says "I don't give a..." (picture of a rat) (picture of a donkey). You figure it out. He begged and begged for it. I told him he can't wear it to school. He said he could. I caved. He ended up finding something he liked better, I made him leave the rat/donkey shirt. Mom -1. An hour later, we left the store with 3 pairs of jeans, a pair of shoes, and 4 shirts. I was $175 poorer.
Then, I went home, picked up MacKenzie and we were off. We went to the same store with the same though in mind...Not spending too much but finding a good deal.
Now, someone please explain to me why clothes for girls/women are twice as much as they are for boys/men? T-shirts all come from the same damn cotton plant. They are dyed the same way. They have the same brand names. Yet, one for Mac is going to cost me $12.99 and for Tyler its $8.99. What the hell? MacKenzie left with one pair of jeans, 3 shirts, a bra, and 4 pairs of underwear for the same amount of money I spent on Tyler. We picked up 2 pairs of shoes for another $100 and I had simply had enough!
Don't get me wrong, I love shopping for my kids. I love it. They are growing so fast. Mac and I now wear the same size shoes which is nice for me since she has cool shoes! But I tell ya, this inequality related to the cost of clothes depending on your sex is ridiculous! It makes a woman or a girl start shopping in the men's department just to save a buck! Hell, at this rate, we are going to end up raising a generation of cross dressers! Maybe that is the key! You know those emails that we get all the time about not buying gas to drive prices lower? We could do the same thing with clothing! I'll send out an email to my entire address book suggesting that we all shop in the men's department only. Maybe if everybody does it for about 5 years, it will knock the price of a pair of flip-flops down 50 cents! Nah - never mind. I have more important things to worry about -

Like the super glue holding the straps of my purse together.

School Supplies & Cat Pee

One would ask, "What in the world do school supplies and cat pee have in common?" Well...nothing. I just thought it was a catchy title. Actually, they have everything in common considering the day I have had.

It actually started yesterday - this feeling of dread and disappointment. I bring it all on myself, naturally, but wait - I'm getting ahead of myself. Yesterday, my dryer died. I mean it completely bit the dust. I had a load of towels in there drying and although the stupid thing had been making a little noise over the last few weeks, I didn't think it was too big a deal. But then, it really started to clang, and the smell of burning tires filled the small space that it is my laundry room, and I knew - I just knew - that the belt had broken. It shut itself down and I had a few choice phrases pass my lips, the general drill when I'm upset. I began thinking about the trip to Boston that Mac and I were going to take and how I would likely have to cancel that now that I would probably have to buy another dryer. I was thinking that there was no way in hell that I would call Sears for help -sorry to all the Sears fans out there, but Lord have mercy on you if one of their appliances break and you have to have them come out -- that's a long story. I was thinking that this just couldn't have come at a worse time -- when I had piles of unwashed laundry sitting there ready to be done.
There I am, feeling utterly sorry for myself, my anxiety, depression and ADD all coming to one large disgusting head, but I had to do something! I called my mother. Yes, that woman who gave me life, has seen me through every bump and bruise, who has taught me that it is much better to laugh than cry when given the choice, and the one I could count on to tell me to just suck it up! Besides, I had to use her dryer, otherwise, I would have to stand in front of the air conditioner vent tomorrow after my shower to dry off.
We went out to my parents' place. I was in a sour mood - after all life as I had come to know it was coming to an end - I threw in the load of towels and proceeded to tell my mother my sad story. She was weeding her flowers, and told me that I would probably just have to call Sears if I couldn't find anybody else. In her own way, she was just telling me to - you guessed it - Suck it up! We were there till about 10pm waiting for the stuff to dry. Then my dad - dear Daddy - offers to come and "tear it apart to see what is wrong with it." I'm thinking, "Oh God, please make him take it back!" Visions of him taking it apart and then leaving it in pieces on my laundry room floor shot through my mind. Larry told him to feel free - that was it. The end of my sanity. In silence, we drove home, I took an Ambien and went to sleep.

This morning, I went to work, pulled through the day feeling hungover (unfortunately, unless I get at least 10 hours of sleep the Ambien makes me feel groggy), and dreaded coming home to heaven knows what in my laundry room. I walked through the kitchen door, and the first thing I noticed was a strong smell of Pine-Sol. I love that stuff. Covers up a multitude of sins. Anyway, I knew that the kids were downstairs working on cleaning up my laundry room area of the basement (bribing them with cash works every time). Sure enough, they were down there, and although they weren't done, they had done a good job so far. Dad hadn't been there yet. And then I smelled it -- the distinct and stinky odor of cat pee. I wondered how that could be when I had just cleaned Potter's (our cat) litter box. It wasn't like that though. It was pungent, old smelling, like it had been there awhile. I asked the kids if they knew where it was coming from. Well, evidently, at some point, Potter left little spots around the laundry room. It is a concrete floor, but there were things sitting on it. I found a pile of clothes ready to go to Goodwill that will now likely have to be burned as no manner of washing is going to take that stench out of them -- anyway, you get the picture. Once we get that area all cleaned out, its getting a good scrubbing with Clorox -- that will kill ANYTHING!

Then, Dad gets here. I was napping - a good ol' power nap. I seem to need one of them just about everyday when I get home. I woke after about an hour and Larry said that the dryer was FIXED! I couldn't believe it. I was stunned. I was elated. I was...(fill in the blank)! He turned it on with a flourish to demonstrate and he reminded me of one of those odd ducks from the home shopping channel. It ran, and not only did it run, but it ran quietly and efficiently. I asked Larry what was wrong with it, and he said that it was simply full of lint and the lint got hot. Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that you are supposed to take the front off the stupid thing once in awhile and clean it out around the drum? Hell, I thought cleaning out the little lint catcher was good enough!! Drama complete.

Well, not quite. With the dryer working, and clothes being washed and dried, I was working on cleaning the laundry room some more. Tyler had choir practice tonight and Larry was going to take him, leaving me and Mac to fend for ourselves. Fine by me. I was in the middle of separating garbage from recyclables when MacKenzie comes down and says, "Mom can we go and get school supplies?" Ah, school supplies. Remember when you were a kid and your mom would take you to get your school stuff, and then when you got home you would spread it all out on the living room floor and marvel at the assortment of colors, textures, and smells? You don't? Well, I do. Mom came with us and we wandered the aisles at Target and I still marvel at the colors, the textures, the smells, and the fact that I can get 10 spiral notebooks for $1 just floors me! I bought enough for Mac, Tyler, me and still have enough to start my own small Office Max here at home. I'll have to go back out tomorrow and get some stuff for Tyler and pick up the rest of Mac's. Target's selection is a little limited.

Now, its 10:11pm according to the atomic clock of Boulder, Colorado. I'm tired. The smell of cat pee and Bounce dryer sheets lingers in my nose. I think I'll shower before bed tonight.

Meow.

"Treatment Effects," Customer Service and Black Socks

What are "treatment effects?" Well, without going into too much detail so as not to gross you out completely, and ultimately drive you away from my blog forever, "treatment effects" are what happen to you when you are on Alli and eat too much fat. Lets just say, if you eat too many calories and/or fat, you are going to keep the Imodium people in business. I have found out the hard way that when the Alli people say to limit fat to 19g per meal, they MEAN IT! I had a good supper tonight - cod and milk. I wasn't all that hungry...or so I thought. After Larry took the kids to the performance they had scheduled, I decided I needed a snack. I had some cookie dough in the fridge, and so I made a couple. I ate them with a glass of milk and within about 20 minutes, the "treatment effects" began. Holy sh..! You know what I mean. Oh well, lesson learned. I weigh in again tomorrow am. Last week I was up an lb, but that is my own fault. Hopefully the cookies all just ran right through me. :-)

Caffeine is not my friend...Caffeine is not my friend...Caffeine is not my friend....
I need to keep saying that to myself over and over and over. I have been ingesting entirely too much of it of late, and it is starting to take its toll. I'm to the point now where I have to have it in the morning - my 20 oz. Diet Coke...again in the afternoon, and another in the evening. I never used to drink straight Diet Coke. I used to drink the caffeine free stuff. I need to cut it out and start drinking just plain WATER! What is wrong with that? NOTHING! Tomorrow I will begin that step in the journey. I will be sure and take a bottle of Tylenol to work with me to stave off the caffeine headache that is sure to plague me for the next few days while I detox from it. OUCH!

I have told you what I do for a living, right? I am a QA Analyst for an auto finance company. I absolutely love my job. Not many people can say that, and when I do, some think I'm being sarcastic. Not at all. I truly enjoy what I do. Except right now. Yesterday, we were told by our boss that the Customer Service department needed our help to field phone calls for the next couple of weeks. He was aware that we would in no way, meet our goal for evaluations if we did, but was willing to sacrifice it. That is us - the sacrificial lambs of the auto finance industry. While I understand the need for it, and I am more than willing and happy to help out, I can't help but feel a little sad. Its almost like we are valued for what we do in our department until we are needed somewhere else, and then we are expendable. Well, I will keep my chin up. I will try hard to serve every customer with a smile in my voice and a clear willingness to help them. I will hang on for a couple of weeks and then appreciate my job that much more when its over.
When I was in Customer Service at the beginning of my career there, the kids loved it when I would come home and tell them stories. Mac would ask me, "Mommy, did you have any 'bad customers' today?" I would laugh and tell them about the ones I would have to explain things to a dozen times, or the ones who would ask questions and then interrupt me when I was trying to answer them. They always thought it was funny. Today when I got home, Mac knew that I had been helping out in Customer Service and she asked me for the first time in a long time, "Mom, did you have any 'bad customers' today?" I smiled, and told her a story. None of our customers are "bad" Mac. They just need my help. That is why I'm there. Sometimes they require a little more attention for one reason or another, but that doesn't make them "bad."

How can I help YOU today?

Mac is spending the night with Amanda tonight. They will swim tomorrow. School starts in a mere 4 weeks. I can't believe it! Soon our house will be filled to the ceiling with school supplies for the kids and for me. It will look like a portable Office Max. Hey-I can't pass up those 10 for $1 notebooks and 10 cent glue! It's like the 1950's all over again! Larry assures me that things were even less expensive than that - and he would know! ;-)

Speaking of Larry - he is back to work half time. He can't have inmate contact yet, so it doesn't make sense for him to be there all day doing nothing. So, he comes home and does nothing. Not really - I came home today to a completely clean house. He can be so thoughtful sometimes...it was very smart to make slaves out of the kids while he was here. He is going to physical therapy for his knee. Yes, his knee. Because of the numbness in his leg caused by the back injury and resulting surgery, he is limping on that one side. This has caused the muscle to deteriorate a bit and its not as strong as the right one. So, therapy it is - this will strengthen his knee and help him get over the nerve damage. Sheesh! If it isn't one thing, its another.

"Are you sitting down?" Larry called me at work this afternoon and those were the first words out of his mouth. Of course I was sitting down...I answered my desk phone! Hello! He told me that he actually bought a couple pairs of SHORTS today! Now, for most men, this is not a great feat. Many men have several pairs to choose from at home that they wear in the summer months. Not my husband. He hasn't owned a pair of shorts since 1968 he tells me! 1968! I was very happy for him for taking this step toward being a more fulfilled individual. Anyway, when I got home, there he was in all his glory - Black T-shirt, red/white checked short sleeved button down, blue denim shorts and....BLACK SOCKS W/BROWN SHOES. No freaking way was I letting him go out in public like that!! No sooner did I get the words out of my mouth, but he told me he went to the mall like that!! I was mortified! I explained the fashion faux pas to him in the gentlest terms I could..."Honey, you look like a geek!" I explained further that short white socks and tennies are the way to go. I realized then that he doesn't own any. OH MY GOD! He needs serious professional fashion help. Thank the Lord for Tyler and MacKenzie. Soon, Larry will be the coolest step-dad in the world.

Need some garters to hold them socks up, Sweetheart?

Independence Day

Happy July 4th to everyone!! Today is a very special day in that it should remind us of the sacrifices many have made so that we can be the great and free country that we are. We need to get on our knees and thank GOD that we have the opportunity to live in such a country. One where we can believe in GOD, where we can work where we want, live where we want, love who we want and be what we want. We are so fortunate, and many take these freedoms for granted. So, if you see a soldier, thank them for all that they do to keep us free. Keep our servicemen and women in your prayers and on your minds. Every day.

Tonight I visited with old friends and made a few new ones. I watched Tyler and MacKenzie perform at the Freedom Festival with their summer show choir group. Then, as the sun disappeared the fireworks began. I watched each blast and heard each booming rocket like I do every year - with awe. Tyler hung out across the way and watched with his friends - its ok - he's getting too cool to hang with his mom. Mac sat at my feet on the blanket I brought. She lie on her back, staring up at the spectacle and never stopped smiling. The music played along with the display - all the patriotic tunes we know and love. And as always, I was moved. Moved because we celebrate our freedom so openly. Moved because I get to be here just one more year with my children. Yet sad, because Larry couldn't be with us this time. Back surgery last week kept him home in the air-conditioning. Poor baby - NOT! Well, it still wasn't the same without him. I sent him a text message while I sat there, "I miss u," it read. He sent one back, "I miss u more." Well, I doubt that, but it was sweet nonetheless.

We just celebrated our 5th anniversary. I mentioned that to someone tonight and they said that they couldn't believe that it had only been 5 years. They thought that we had been together much longer. Now, I'm not sure if that was meant as a compliment (ie: "You look so comfortable together!") or as a shock (ie: "You look like you have been together forever - meaning you already banter like a couple that has been together for years!"). Either way, its only been 5 years. I think that it surprises people because we are very comfortable together. I would hope so, after all, I have known Larry for more than 20 years. Someday, I'll put the story to paper. Not yet though. I'm not ready to come out and tell the world all our stories.

I saw a good friend of mine tonight at the Freedom Festival. It is someone that I haven't seen for a long time, but when we do see each other its like we just pick up where we last left off, and like no time has passed. I love her dearly. She has a son who just turned 18 and graduated from high school, and a daughter who will be a sophomore this year. She is struggling with the son - he is exercising his 18 year old wings, and trying to be "a man" by being mean to his mother. I hope he comes around. She loves him so much and just doesn't want him to get hurt. As for the daughter - what a sweetheart. I remember when she was younger - maybe 11 or so. She could be such a little pain in the ... well, you know. But she is growing into a beautiful young woman. I hope that uses that beauty for good and not evil, and I hope that she stays as loving and kind as she is right now. My daughter really looks up to her.

One of the kids' friends, Amanda, is spending the next couple of days with us while her mom is out of town. Amanda is like a big sister to Mac and, well, the jury is still out on her relationship with Tyler. She refers to him as her "brother," but I can't help but think she was a little jealous that he was spending time with my friend's daughter (the 15 year old I mentioned in the last paragraph). She kept asking why she was all up in his face, whispering to him, etc. I asked her if she was jealous...she said no, that she was just making sure that Tyler was ok. She wanted to protect him. Hmmmmm. Interesting. Amanda's mom and I are best friends. I can't imagine my life without her in it. She is my rock. She is my leaning post. She is the one I go to when I can't go to anyone else....the one I tell all my secrets to. I absolutely do not know what I would do without her. I hope she knows that. Amanda said that she is happy that her mom and I are friends because that means she gets to spend more time with Tyler and MacKenzie. Amanda is one of the sweetest girls I have ever met. If Tyler has friends like her throughout his life, he is going to have a hard time choosing a wife.

So, here I am. 2 strawberry smoothies later, at the keyboard, detailing my evening and writing mushy things about my friends. I'm taking stock in my freedom. I'm being thankful. I'm saying my prayers and thanking GOD once again for allowing me to live in a free country.

Count your blessings everyday. Kiss your children. Tell the ones that mean the most to you that you love them. Don't take anything or anyone for granted.

Happy Independence Day.

I'm Not Dead...

...Just busy. Its that time of year when my time is not my own, very little of it is spent on the computer (except at work of course) and life just flies by. So, what have I been up to, you ask? Lets see...

Well, first and foremost - God has blessed me with a 5 lb. weight loss this past week. The "alli" is working well, and I'm not having too many side effects. What few I'm having are my fault - eating too much fat and paying for it! I will spare you the gory details. Positive effects overall though.

Tyler and MacKenzie went with their dad on a fishing trip this past week. They left Thursday and just got back this moment. They are obviously tired, and already getting owly. Time to begin the deprogramming!! Maybe by next Wednesday they will be the beautiful, well-behaved children I know and love.

Larry hurt himself working at our church last Sunday. I have one thing to say to him -- "Act your age!!" He was working hard at planting grass seed and doing some landscaping with 2 other members of the church that are half his age. Larry was right in there in the trenches (so to speak) working as hard as they were for as long. He had some back stiffness the next day, but then by Sunday night he was flat on his back. He was off work all last week and bored out of his mind. An MRI of his back shows an extruded disk -- meaning surgery. We see the neurosurgeon on Wednesday morning. Not very fun.

All and all, a busy week. This week it is back to show choir performances and work. Larry will be flat on his back at home again and driving me all nuts with his complaining and his crabbiness. Oh well - I love him anyway.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday (what is left of it) and I will check in again soon.

Renewed Resolve

On May 21st, on this very blog, I made a promise to work hard to get myself in shape. Nearly a month later, I'm in no better shape than I was then. In fact, I'm probably worse off. Damn! I hate the thought that I failed - once again. Well....I can't fail anymore. I need to get my mind set in the right place, and really try. This time, I'm turning to the pharmaceutical world for help. A new weight loss aid hit the market this week -- alli. Perhaps you have heard of it? Well, if not, let me give you a quick run down:

It is a medication that when used with a low-fat diet, and exercise (there's the kicker - pun intended) can help you lose more weight than with dieting alone. It works in the digestive system, rather than tricking your mind or unnaturally increasing your heart rate with stimulants; and it blocks some of the fat that I eat. So...in a sense, it is a negative form of reinforcement. If I eat a meal that is high in fat content when I'm taking the medication, I could have uncontrollable bowel movements. That alone is incentive enough to eat veggies and fruit!

I'm at the point now where if I don't do something, I'll end up in bad bad shape. I'm not ugly (so I've been told) and I can still see my feet. However, I would like to see my neck again, and I know that people are only supposed to have one chin! I want my heart not to beat like a bass drum just from walking up the stairs. I want to be able to chase and run with my kids at the park without feeling like I need to call someone to bring me the AED and call 911. I want to be able to put on a bathing suit and not feel like everyone is looking at me saying to each other, "I thought that they outlawed whaling!" I just want to be the person I am inside, only on the outside too. Just once I want to be the woman who looks great for 40 (next year) and can share clothes with her teen aged daughter. I'm going through with this. I'm determined. I can see the goal -- if I have my contacts in -- and I'm going to go for it! I have support - I have the alli website, I have the book, I have my friends (one of them is doing this with me, bless her heart), and I have my family. Most of all, I have GOD. I am praying for strength. I am praying for power. I am praying that the next time I eat meat, I don't poop myself!

Wish me luck!

Baseball & Sunshine

What could be better than sitting in the sun, watching your favorite baseball team win one on the road? Well, sunblock would have been a good idea! Yesterday, Larry, me and another couple - Craig and Robin - took off on the bus to Milwaukee to watch the Chicago Cubs play the Milwaukee Brewers at Miller Park. Now, normally on these bus trips, members of the "blue-haired brigade" are along; its been my experience that more than half of the folks that go on these trips are retired people-median age is about 70. Anyway, when you book a trip to a sporting event, and taking into consideration the typical age of a passenger, normally, the tickets are for seats under the terrace. There, you are out of the sun, yet, you can see really well. Miller Park is one of those ballparks that doesn't have a lot of shade. It does not have the charm of Wrigley Field, but it also does not have those annoying support poles in your way. Drawback=sitting in the sun for 4 hours. Short sleeves didn't help either, but at least I was smart and didn't wear shorts, but instead, blue jeans. While sitting there, laughing with Robin, making good-natured fun of the players (Did you know that Pie's last name - pronounced Pe-aye) means "foot" in Spanish? Robin is fluent and told me so. When Pie would come to bat, we would yell, "Go, Foot!!!!" I guess you had to be there. We laughed, we ate ballpark food - pretzels, popcorn, Dippin Dots - drank Mike's Hard Lemonade (I only had one) and we had a wonderful time. So, again, while sitting there enjoying the atmosphere, I cooked my arms. We could have easily carved them up and ate them like turkey legs. It probably would have felt better than my scorched skin!

Robin is one of my best friends. She has been there for me through some really dark days, and she has brightened up a lot of other days. We used to work together. She used to do what I do - evaluate calls - and when we met, we hit it off immediately. We are very much alike. She is one year younger than I am -- Yes, Robin, I admit it - and yet, she is way more mature than me. We make each other laugh and there is nothing more wonderful than having a good laugh with a good friend. I thank God for her friendship often.

My other good friend is Karen. Now, Karen and I have a different friendship and it is just as important to me as Robins. Karen is older than me (I won't say how much older), but I look up to her. I am the oldest of my mother's 3 children and the oldest of my father's 4 children (long story). I never had an older sibling to lean on, and I had to learn everything the hard way. Karen is in a way, my surrogate big sister. I'm not sure what I would do without her, and I hope I never have to find out. Karen has a daughter -Amanda- I call her "Amanda Panda" and she lets me get away with it. Amanda just turned 13 and is very good friends with my kids. They have so much fun together, and they do love each other. While we were at the game, Karen picked up the kids, took them back to her place, and let them spend the night. Well, I think she deserves a medal, but she insists that the kids were really good and had a fabulous time.

I am very blessed. I have the love of a wonderful GOD, the love of a good husband, the joy of my beautiful children, and the support of terrific friends. I must learn never to take any of them for granted.

By the way - the Cubs won.

Drama

I am the proud mother of a (soon-to-be) teenage drama queen. MacKenzie will start middle school in the fall. She is excited to be leaving the little kid world of elementary school, but she is starting to get a little nervous about the new world in that enormous building, where she is sure she is going to get lost, no one will like her, she won't have any friends, she won't have good teachers, and she won't understand her Math homework. She didn't believe me when I told her that middle school is going to open up a whole new world of opportunities for her. She will make more friends than she can count on all her fingers and toes. She will love her teachers. She will surprise herself by how easy her Math becomes.

We had a parents' meeting tonight for the show choir kids. The kids had to come too so that they could run through the show (verbally for now) and give the director their T-Shirt sizes. Tyler stayed home because he was sick with strep-throat. While the kids were off doing their thing, we met with one of the other parents who has been heading up the efforts to really make something of our group. It was informational, well organized, and I'm very impressed so far. I hope that we get tremendous support from the other parents. I am the secretary of the Performing Arts Parents group. Yikes! We'll see how that goes. ---Where was I?--- Oh yeah --
After the meeting, I talked to the director about Tyler, picked up some additional music for him, and then talked to her about Mac's apprehension. She looked at MacKenzie and told her that if she needs anything, has any problems, wants to talk, someone is picking on her, etc., that MacKenzie can come to her and she will "deal with it." She will always be here for her. I cannot tell you how special that made Mac feel. She just beamed. We were walking to the van and she said that "Mrs. E" was already her favorite teacher, and the new school year hasn't even started yet. She is now looking forward to middle school.

I wish I was. I'm not ready for my baby girl to grow up. Isn't that horribly selfish of me? I look back over the past 11 years since she was born, and all that she has accomplished. I see her first steps, her first words, her first everythings. I remember the little girl in the cowgirl Halloween costume when she was 2 - all fur and fringe, hat and boots, long curls sticking out from the hat and the look on her face - that of a very very very tired little girl who had eaten too much candy. I remember when she was about 6 - Tyler had just started performing in show choir. She was too young to be part of it, but that didn't stop her from learning ALL the songs, and ALL the dances, and doing them right there in the audience, to the delight of many of the other parents. I remember her really liking "Baby One More Time" by Brittney Spears and making me play it over and over and over in the car so that she could sing along (to this day, I HATE that song!). And I look at her now - she is almost as tall as me (not a big accomplishment by any stretch of the imagination), her hair is much longer and beautifully curly, her eyes are so green, she has a beautiful smile, and her laugh can light up any room. She is planning for braces within the next year. She is anticipating "womanhood," and dreading it at the same time. My little girl isn't just my little girl anymore. While I'm still her mom (with all the power that implies), she is becoming a friend too. I'm sure that sometime in the not so distant future, my daughter will look at me and think, "Mom you are soooo lame!" But maybe not. Maybe we will always be close. I hope so.
Did I say DRAMA? Wonder where she gets it?

Its Just Like My Life!

I've told you all about my daughter, MacKenzie, right? Well, she is 11 and her best friend, Brittany, is 12. They were out riding bikes today and Mac took a little tumble. Evidently, she was riding too close to the back end of Brit's bike, hit the back tire, and went ass-over-apple-cart, ultimately landing on her little backside. She bruised her tailbone, and has a nice big strawberry on her right gluteus maximus. While this isn't funny to most people-most would say, "Oh...Poor Baby!"- I laugh my fool head off! Mac has not been the most graceful of children this week. Yesterday, she was walking up the back steps, into the house, and tripped on the stairs. She slid down their rough, concrete facade, scraping up the back of her leg, her forearm and her elbow. So...now, she just looks like she got hit by a car...a real train wreck!! Bruises on her arms, scrapes on her legs and butt, and she half-cries-half-laughs every time she moves. She sees the humor in it, but it hurts, so she doesn't know how to react. Yes....Poor Baby. I told her to sit on some ice for her butt and she looked at me like I was insane. The next minute I catch her shifting around and sure enough, she has the ice pack under that raw right cheek. As I think of it now, I'm having a hard time keeping a straight face. :-)

Mac wanted to read to me again tonight. She is really in the habit now of reading at least one chapter of whatever book she is into to me before she goes to sleep. I love it. It gives me a chance to be near her, and listen to how far she has come in her reading and comprehension abilities -- actually, I just like to lay on her bed - she has a nicer mattress than I do. Anyway, tonight we began a new book, "Sammy Keyes and the Mystery of Moustache Mary." I LOVE Sammy Keyes books!! They are fabulously written (can't think of the author just now), imaginative, and descriptive, and Sammy (who is female) reminds me so much of me when I was in that 'tween stage of life. Tonight, Mac was reading about Sammy riding on some one's handlebars when she gets thrown off, skids across the pavement, and scrapes herself up, but good. Mac looks at me, sighs, and says, "Its just like my life!" I laughed out loud, nearly peeing my pajama pants, as she looked at me seriously and said, "Mom! It is not funny that I hurt my butt!!" Oh, Mac, YES IT IS!!! She cracks me up. Everyday, she says or does something that makes me laugh or smile, or just chuckle to myself - I hate to say it, but I think she just reminds me of me when I was her age. My mom says so all the time, that Mac is her mother made over. Good Lord...Don't You think unleashing one of me on the world was enough? Maybe it was all the mistakes I made over the years? Maybe the Lord is trying again with a younger model? We will never know - at least not till we get to meet Him in person one day!

Mac tried out for the middle school show choir. She will be entering middle school this fall, so they have auditions in the Spring, just before school lets out for the year. Tyler is already a member, and will be in his final year of middle school this fall. Anyway, Mac tried out. She didn't think she did all that well, and was worried about her dancing ability. The director emailed me and asked Mac to come back in for a call back this week. That can only mean 2 things...either she is really bad, and they just want to give her a chance to redeem herself, or she is border lining on pretty decent, and they want to make sure that they are making the right decision to keep her. Well, actually, it was a call back to make sure that they COULD take her. She showed her skills at both singing and dancing again, and then taught the dance to a few students who didn't make it to the first audition last week!! That did it! She showed her compassion and love for teaching others. She is kind, and patient, and giving of herself. These are qualities in my daughter that I cherish above many others. We got the news today that she was awarded a place in the group!! There were over 400 students that tried out, and only room for 30 boys and 30 girls. I am VERY proud of her.

Well, tomorrow is another day! Thank you to those who read my blog and leave comments. Its nice to know that someone is enjoying my ramblings!
Good night!

Another Week!

I can't believe it has been a whole week since I last posted! To my regular readers, I apologize, and I will not leave you hanging this long again! I promise.
What has been going on?
Well, lots actually.

This past weekend was Memorial Day weekend, which is always great because it gives me an extra day to just hang out. And hang out I did! Saturday was jam-packed with graduation parties (Congrats to my friends, Kami, Derek, and my cousin Amelie!!), and of course I have to send big HAPPY BIRTHDAY wishes to my Dad, and my daughter-from-another-mother, Amanda-Panda. I loved celebrating with all of you!
For those that graduated from high school, I was honored to be able to share this right of passage with you. I wish nothing but the best for you, and I hope that you understand college is not just one big party. You will get out of it, what you put into it. Give it your best.

I shared in another right of passage this weekend. My daughter, Mac, shaved her legs for the first time. She is 11 and going into middle school, so she figures that all middle school girls do it, so she had better to, so as not to be called "gorilla girl" by her peers. I think she just really wanted to try it out. She did pretty good. You go, baby girl!

Tyler spent part of Sunday in the ER. He had been at show choir practice (www.cedarrapidsperformancecompany.com), and was on a break. He was climbing on the monkey bars at a nearby park and when she went to hang by his knees, he smacked his head on the bars. OUCH! That earned him a nice goose-egg, and a nasty bruise. He garnered neck X-Rays for his effort, and some time at the hospital. Then, home, and Tylenol. What a way to spend the day!! Poor kid! LOOK WHERE YOU ARE SWINGING NEXT TIME! I love ya.

Back to work today. Its Tuesday, but feels like a Monday (see previous post about Mondays).

Don't you hate it when there is that one person at work that really gets under your skin? Well, I have one of those people. They (I will not be gender specific here to protect the identity of the subject -- actually, its to protect myself thank you very much) are making me crazy. I hate it when someone asks me a question, and when I provide an answer, they dump all over it, like it was stupid or something. I guess I figure, if you know the answer, don't freakin ask me! Its really pretty simple! That's better. This individual is really a nice person. I just wonder if they think that they know everything and they are just testing me, or they just can't accept that my way just might be better than theirs. Oh well. I will probably never know.

How is the weight loss going? Honestly, I don't know. I didn't weigh myself today (chicken), but I will tomorrow and report back. Lets hope for a nice loss!!

Love to all. See/Read you tomorrow!

100 Pounds of Emotions

My doctor says that I need to watch my weight, watch my diet, and exercise more. I can do that. I will watch my weight creep ever higher, watch my diet enter my mouth, and then the chewing and swallowing action should qualify as exercise, right? Just kidding. Actually, he said that I need to lose a "considerable" amount of weight. Why is it that doctors can't just come out and tell you how much weight they want you to lose? Its like they are trying to protect your feelings. I know I'm fat - give it to me straight, Doc! They give you your current weight (in my case, 247) and then they give you your "ideal weight" (for me, 135-145). So, as it applies to me, "considerable" means about 100 lbs. 100 POUNDS?!! Holy crap! When did I pack on that much weight? Lets see...was it during my first marriage? Yeah, I can account for about 40 lbs during that 10 years. How about not losing the weight after the kids? Yep - I gained 30 lbs. with Tyler and actually came out of being pregnant with Mac, lighter than I went in, so that doesn't apply. So, that is a total of 70 lbs. What about the other 30? Probably my divorce. After all, I'm an emotional eater. I eat when I'm depressed, I eat when I'm angry, I eat when I'm excited, and I eat when I'm happy. I eat when I'm in a box, and I eat when I'm with a fox....Oops! Carried away on the Dr. Seuss. Well, it didn't come on overnight and as much as I would like it to, it won't go away that fast either, but I will work on it. I took my first step today.

If I counted up all of my "first steps" over the past few years, I bet I could have walked all the way to Timbuktu and back and would have already lost my 100 lbs! Today, I packed my gym bag and headed there after work. I climbed on the bike - it seemed to be the most benign of most of the machines there, and has been my friend in the past. I plugged my headphones into the CardioVision (Yes, TVs attached to each machine!!), turned on the movie "Sweet Home Alabama," and started to pedal. Uphill, downhill, faster, slower. The heart rate monitor recording that my heart is still beating and that I am not suffering from cardiac arrest - yet. My breathing deepens as the intensity of my pedalling increases. Sweat pouring off my forehead, my elbows, running down my back (Damn...I need a shower now!). I will NOT wear shorts right now, so I have sweat pants on - hence the profuse sweating. I look around and there are others there too. Skinny-minis in their cute little outfits, walking on the treadmills and chatting. WHATEVER! Get moving you little.....!
At the end of the faux-bike ride, 50 crunches on a stability ball while holding a 10 lb. weight to my chest, and then stretching. This violent attempt at getting my fat butt in shape took 40 minutes. Not too bad. The endorphins are kicking in full blast now and I'm feeling pretty good about my effort. If only I can do this every day!! I have to do this every day!! I CANNOT let the scale's numbers go up anymore! I am too young to be like this!!

I am asking you, my rabid readers, to assist me in this journey. Those of you I see regularly, if you see me putting something in my mouth that is any color other than that of a vegetable or fruit - yank it away and scold me intensely!! Those who don't see me often, words of encouragement go a long long way. I heard somewhere that if you tell people that you are changing your lifestyle (I hate the term "dieting"), then it is easier to stick to it. After all, you don't want the humiliation of failure staring you in the face!!

Right now I feel pretty good. The happy emotion...
...where is my BEN and JERRY'S!! (just kidding - carrots anyone?)