Wisdom From a Seven Year Old

I am sitting here fooling around with my blog template. The Oldest is reading quietly (he's reading The Whipping Boy) in the room with me. Suddenly he passes gas. It was a doozy. There was a long dramatic pause as I pretend to not hear what he just inserted into the room with a loud thunder. Next I hear this: "Mom I just tooted. Shouldn't you get out of the room?"
I hold in my laughter and look at him out of the corner of my eye. He looks at me openly and blatently and gives me a look like, "Well, it's YOUR decision" and he rolls back over on his back to continue reading.

This is a true story.

To further gross you out, I did NOT leave the room. I am the only female here. I will not be ousted from my comfy abode by a stinky (but adorable) little boy. Just who's in charge around here anyway?

J

I've always wondered...

When Lucas was in the hospital, for the first month to month and a half, I would literally not leave his side. I never went home. Of course, my husband was right there with me every day in some form or fashion (whole day/half day/partial day depending on day of week or work or whatever) but I only got to see the Oldest at first when he came to visit; when his Daddy brought him. I finally was pushed and prodded by my husband and the social worker to go home. For one night. At first. It started like that. One night. The whole way driving from that hospital, leaving my husband behind with Lucas, I cried and cried. I felt so guilty. I knew the Oldest needed me and that I needed to be home, just to be home and think and get away for a minute but I was so pulled back to the hospital. In the end, the healthy thing to do of course was what I did; go home with the Oldest. I knew I'd be back in the morning. I could almost relive it exactly all right now, moment by moment. It's funny, when you remember things that are burned into your brain, your memory, things that matter like that, it's like it just happened. You can re live it because it just happened and it's so familiar to you because you remember it all the time.....it's almost like your other life. I do have two you know. Well, maybe you didn't know. Regardless, I got the idea that night, to record the Oldests voice. In a conversation with me. So I could go back to the hospital and replay it for Lucas. He absolutely adored the Oldest for all of his time at home, all six months. Adored him. I thought, if Lucas could hear his voice whenever I played the recording that it would spur him on, make him want to get better (when all along it had nothing and I mean nothing to do with what Lucas wanted but I didn't get that then), and make him stronger.

I did it. I recorded the Oldest's sweet little three year old voice (back then). Someone at the hospital had let me borrow an old time tape recorder and that's how I did it. To this day, I still have that recorder. Couldn't bear to give it back. I remember the first time I played it for Lucas. He was sedated of course. He could do things like squeeze fingers, he opened his eyes now and again, sometimes with blank stares, sometimes right at me, he did random things like that which I hung every hope prayer and dream on by the way, but I digress, he was of course, sedated. When I played that little voice on the recorder, Lucas stilled. Stilled like I thought he knew who he was listening to and if he stilled more, it meant he could soak up his brothers voice more. And as I watched his face, studied it while the recording played on, two tears slowly fell down his face. I remember the air getting sucked out of me and sobbing right there in front of him. He responded. I coudn't tell what he was feeling except for those two tears. I thought that he was saying, "I miss you all so much and I don't want to be here, stuck here, with all these things in me and where is my "Oldest" anyway?" Of course, me, with all the drama, seeing those two tears, that is what I thought. And it killed me.

That whole episode spurred me on to hit the doctors with a whole new set of more pointed questions, 'is he hurting and we can't tell? can he really hear what we are saying and want to respond in ways only he can? is he hungry? how can he not be? why is he crying tears? Oh they tell you what you want to hear sometimes I think. Of course I think they are bound to some sense of honesty but I also think they could see things we could not, especially before we knew that his corrective surgery was botched and that his heart condition of tetrology of fallot still existed, but now worse that before the corrective surgery. I think they maybe were trying to be humane and not tell us everything. Of course I could be wrong, I don't know. When a patient or patients parent wants to know real questions like that, it means they are headed straight for the real nuts and bolts of it all and they want real answers and they don't care if the real answers might hurt them, they still want the answers. Maybe in some ways the doctors tell us the easy version to help avoid US the pain of what the real truth might be.

Greys Anatomy last week. George's dad died. While he was in the hospital, they had a round table discussion about whether they should let him go or not. He was in a very sedated state and unresponsive after surgery and the doctors realizing that cancer had spread throughout his body. Do you know how many round table discussions we had? Some literal round table discussions and some figurative ones where all doctors were present and we had these tough conversations but no round table was physically present? SEVERAL. Not just one. Lucas will die tonight. Prepare yourselves. Call your families. He won't make it through the day. It'll get much worse before it gets better. He's very sick. Blah blah blah. Back to the topic. George's brothers said to George (who is a doctor himself), "what should we do what do you think?" and George says this, long pause then "He's not himself, he's hurting, he isn't Dad like this" and that was it. That moment while I watched that show, stood still for about three minutes it felt like. All the memories which were already flooding my brain just stopped. I mean, I've always wondered you know, I did ask all the questions to them back then, WAS HE HURTING ALL THOSE MONTHS? Why did he cry random tears with no sound? Should I have seen the signs so much sooner? Not asked him to fight so long? Jesus. So I'm thinking then, while watching this show, yes, it must be true. George is a doctor, he's being real, he knows the real truth, he's leveling with his family. Not a reason in the world to BS his mom or brothers, he says it outright, 'he's hurting right now'. OK OK OK. So George's dad and Lucas are very different. Georges dad is an actor on a show and it's not real. Lucas was a baby born with a heart defect and he was very real. But the situations, they seemed very very similar. I know they try to be true to life on these medical shows. They do. So now I'm wondering, after all this time, did we do the right thing? By asking that little boy to fight for so long? To believe in him? To ask him to climb that very steep mountain of his kidneys failing, lungs failing, and all the numerous infections and fight it all? I mean seriously, how delusional were we? And the pain he must have been feeling? Like the time the doctors in Philly literally flew in the room for the millionth time, threw a huge blue cloth over him, cut a hole in it and right there and then cut a hole in HIM to fix something that some monitor outside our room was telling them something was wrong wrong wrong? Do you think he felt THAT pain? Oh yes. I know he did. And I stood in the corner of his room crying tears like the Niagra Falls that I've never been too. What the hell? I remember that moment crystal clearly. I was there alone. My honey was here, back home with the Oldest, forced to live life to get a paycheck and try to fake a sense of normalcy for him. I was thinking, is this right? What are we doing? STOP STOP STOP! But I let them. I mean, they were saving him after all, right? Jesus. What was I doing?

You see, I've always wondered. What was the right thing? What WERE we supposed to do? I guess it really is irrelevant now. What's done is done. He's gone. He's in Heaven, exactly where he's supposed to be. More safe there than he could ever be here. If I could only stop re living. If I could only stop beating myself up. I don't think that'll ever happen. Too many things to noodle through. So much happened that I've never even said out loud believe it or not. So much.

I pray for peace. I pray for a sense of calm and less anger. This is a good prayer. This I pray for.

Jenn

Being a Mom

--Is a blessing
--Is non stop
--Is fun
--Is TIRING
--Is full of hope
--Is so gratifying on every level
--Is enough to drive you to drink
--Is enough to make you step in front of a 100 mph bus to save your child in a heartbeat
--Is the rise and fall of me
--Is the one thing and I mean the one thing that keeps me from choking every family member who lives in this house with all the laundry that's in the same said house
--Is the best. And I do mean that. But right now....I am just TIRED.

Maybe it's because I'm sick and still have to keep going, doing. But right now I.AM.JUST.SO.TIRED. And usually, if I'm feeling tired you aren't going to hear it from me. It just goes with the territory. Mom. Tired. One in the same. But lately, this whatever it is, sinus infection, in addition to attacking my voice and making me sound like an old person who's smoked for 75 years, is draining all of my energy.

Now let me go into the Oldest's room and purge all his old clothes. I got mad and threw them into one pile (from the closet where they were hidden away and 'somewhat' organized) in the middle of his room. I kid you not when I say the sum of that pile is taller than his bed. It's not as BIG as his bed but the pile I made is TALL. Now I'm looking at it like, "oh my. what to do now? why did I do that? seriously?" When all I want to do is take a nap and get better. Wah wah wah. I know. I know. Cry me a river.

-pishaw.
Jenn



-J

Breath of Fresh Air

Seriously. Do you know what a breath of fresh air it is to put down my Littlest? When I compare getting him to sleep to getting the Oldest to sleep when he was that little, it's literally like night and day. He tells us it's time for bed--'night nigh' he says. I read him a book, we snuggle, I rock him for about one minute, let him take sips of his milk from his sippy, tell him I love him, sleep good, night night and I put him in his crib, he rolls over and that is that. He gets himself to sleep and he's fine when I walk out of the room and close the door. Can I tell you I WOULD NEVER EVER have closed the Oldest's door when he was that little? NEVER. Oh the thought was (and yes all the drama here) horrendous to me. I thought it was horrible to close the door on a little one. But hello there are such things as monitors and the closed door gives them a peaceful sleep with no extraneous noises and a nice dark room....maybe that was the problem back then. Well, that and the fact that I was a new mom, who never wanted to hear an utterance of a cry from the little bambino. BUT those of you who know me even a little know that my tolerance for crying now is way way less than it ever was then so that can't be it. I don't know. All I know is, for whatever reason, our sweet little one knows when it's time to go to sleep and I can't tell you how wonderful it is to not have that stress, that crying, that battle, every night. Do you know I used to rock and rock and rock the Oldest to try to get him to fall asleep every night and it hardly ever worked but I kept trying. And then I'd have to lay physically beside his crib and hold his little hand through the bars till he literally passed out and I'd be crying silently beside his crib. We both were crying!

It's like a breath of fresh air. It's wonderful. For both of us. And my husband will say, "is he ASLEEP? That was quick" or "wow, he's asleep already?" to which I just smile. Yep. He's a good boy. Full of energy all day long and then when it's time for sleep, done deal. He's not a sleepy head baby or anything. I just think he knows when he's had his limit, hit the wall, you know, done for the day. Love that. Give me more breaths of fresh air I say. Bring them on.

-J

Good Job

Do you ever tell yourself good job? You know, you do and do and go and go. Sometimes, it seems it never stops. It all just keeps coming. Fast. Faster. Me, I beat myself up a lot. I can feel that I do it. Constantly looking for ways I can be better, do better, being so honest sometimes it might not be the best thing but I keep at it. Sometimes it feels exhausting.

Just now, while the Littlest is sleeping, I'm running in circles almost. This needs to be done and that needs to be done and I just want to sit and rest but truly, I feel guilty when I do that. So I finished up three things I've been mentally wanting to do and as I swung around the kitchen putting away groceries knowing I have dishes left to do and he'll be waking up soon, then off to get the Oldest from the very rainy bus stop, back home to start dinner, I stopped. Just stopped. I stood right there in front of the refrigerator and said out loud to myself, "Good job, Jenn. Good job." I mean my God, if no one else says it enough as you need to hear it, go on and tell yourself. I felt much better when I said that out loud! I don't think I've ever done that. Given myself the permission to say to myself, "Good work". Wow. How empowering it felt and that in itself was a surprise.

So I share with you because maybe you need to tell yourself good job too. Maybe you need to let yourself off the hook a little bit too. Ok, ok, ok, so that might be a bit of a stretch for me. I'm not exactly going to let myself off the hook for anything, because I am afraid to slack at all on anything. Hard to rest around here. Hard to be lazy. There is none of that. But how hard can it be to tell yourself good job? Well, apparantly it's hard cause I'm 36 years old and I can't remember ever telling myself that; ever. So there you go. Give it a whirl next time you feel frustrated and feel like you are doing and doing and spinning your wheels.

Good job you!

Jenn

Beauty

Pretty. Color. Miracle. Red. Winter. Taken. Vibrant.

Visiting the Cemetary...

It is an absolutely gorgeous day today here. I think it's 72 degrees outside. We went to Lucas' little grave and put new flowers for Valentines Day. I'm so glad we have the ceramic picture in the locket on his grave. It still hurts to open it and see his little six month old face looking back with that big smile on it. I said to my husband, while we were there shining his marker up and replacing the flowers and bow, "Sometimes I still get so angry." What he said to me completely told me that he has moved on from the place I seem to be stuck solid. He said, "What good does it do to be angry? The anger will just eat you up inside." Hmm. Really? Seriously? You think I didn't KNOW that? But how do you magically let it go? How does HE do it?

I don't know. Maybe one day, I will have an epiphany, and just 'get' it all. I try. I try so hard.

So I wrapped that pretty ribbon around his vase and made the nice bow and arranged the flowers just so while we all sat there and said our prayers. The Oldest said his was a 'wish-prayer' so he couldn't 'say' his out loud (uh huh) so I made a big deal about how I'm not afraid to pray out loud and bent my head to pray. I said what came to my heart and then as I got choked up, my husband took over. Like a flash, the Oldest was at my side, not babying me, but just physically there. Like a magnet. Fussing over a flower but right there where prior he had been sitting across from me. I noticed the change in him and I smiled. I am lucky. Right? Right.

I see that.

-J

Pirates!

Now for the OLDEST-- he still loves Pirates. I asked him last night why he loves Pirates so much and his answer to me? And I quote, "I don't know Mom, they just fascinate me." My husband and I just looked at each other. No words. What can you say to a seven year old who talks like that?

And the second sequel, the third movie in the series comes out on Memorial Day this year. They already have a few characters out for this movie, and uhm, I got him two yesterday. I know I'm bad. He plays with them like they are in battle scenes (like in the movies). Here is a picture I just took of his little set up.

The movies kind of give me the creeps because they make them so real and the characters are so grotesque looking, like Davey Jones? He's an octopus head and the legs are his beard and I'm telling you, it looks pretty real.

But I suppose it's Disney's way of making Pirates fun, kind of a movie for kids and adults. Never show any hard core violence. Some scenes infer horrible things but you never see it, which is a plus for me because compared to a lot of our friends and some family, the Oldest leads a very sheltered TV/Movie life. As I like it. :)

Fun stuff.

Jenn

Amaryllis Plant

This is an Amaryllis plant my Aunt D sent me for the Holidays. It has bloomed beautifully. I love taking these kind of shots. I'm not a photographer by any means and still need to sit down and figure out all of the features this camera has because I know I'm underusing it if not using it improperly. I do though have the love of taking pictures and trying to capture just the exact right thing; that has to count for something-no?

This thing was nothing when it got here from Harry and David. Just bulbs in a gorgeous round box. Now look, about three weeks later, this. The full shot shows how tall it is. I love it. I like the close up shot better because it shows the beauty of the actual flower. I'll save the bulbs when it dies. So pretty. Thanks Aunt D!!!!

Just sharing..

Jenn

Book Meme 123.5

Instructions:

1. Grab the book you are reading now.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence here as a comment.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Take it from what you are reading. If you are not currently reading anything, pick up the closest book to you. Don't hunt for cool titles, just get the closest thing.


Lets see if any of them having anything in common at all. Anything. Six degrees of separation? Is there anything to it? I don't know. This will be an experiement.

Go!

On my Heavy Heart Tonight You Are

January 12, 2007 at 11:49 PM EST; Posted on CarePages-Duplicate

When you have a child the hopes and dreams and expectations you have for him are endless, boundless even. When we lost our second son, it took some time to grasp that it had even really happened. Of course, at his funeral we knew. Of course, the first day we went home without him, having traveled home from Philadelphia without him, we knew. When I sobbed so hard the dry wall in the living room might have crumbled where it was and my husband was holding me up and crying with me, we knew. BUT as time has gone on, the realization and the acceptance has grown smoother and softer, like water smoothing and rounding out a perfect little pebble on a quiet beach somewhere. He remains the reason for so much. Lucas is the whole reason we are where we are today. The reason I do what I do and I'm very sure in my heart of hearts, he's the very reason that my husband is such a terrific person, a kinder person. The Oldest still remembers him, and more than anything, MORE THAN ANYTHING, he simply remembers Lucas' essence. He knows innately the importance of remembering him in our daily lives. It's just a part of him. And so that helps make us complete as if the Littlest doesn't do it perfectly himself, the Oldest helping us close that gap helps us realize that this is our family. Our family now. Missing a very important link but bridged as best it can with the only glue we have to offer up; love.

I don't want to say to you, "Imagine losing your child, hold them close and closer, no matter if they are young children or young teenagers, hold them close, know where they are, know who they're with, hold their feet to the fire, give them rules, be nosey, talk to them, and imagine they weren't here." but I WILL say to you, "Imagine losing your child, hold them close and closer, no matter if they are young children or young teenagers, hold them close, know where they are, know who they're with, hold their feet to the fire, give them rules, be nosey, talk to them, and imagine they weren't here." Today is a gift and that isn't just cliche'. Take it from me. It is a gift. Learn from us. There are a thousand lessons I learned from his birth, his journey, his fight and his death. Even the road till now has been filled with much insight. And I try to share it here, not always, but now and again. Sometimes I simply come here because I NEED to in a selfish way. I'm only human, a mamma, just missing her son, knowing he's ok, knowing he's with God, knowing I will see him again, but missing him still.

And life goes on. We hold our heads as high as we can and we live for these boys. As it should be.

--Lucas' Mamma, Jenn

Bye Bye BooBahs Hello DoodleBops

Bye Bye BoohBahs!

Hello Doodlebops! This house is all Doodlebops now. The Littlest loves them and he is riveted to the screen. He dances and then decides its time to sit still as a statue off and on, depending on what is going on in the show. They are the strangest things but have the catchiest tunes. They are coming in 'concert' soon. We're going to take the boys. The Oldest very sweetly obliges the Littlest and does not tease him at all. I love that about him. He doesn't fuss much that he has to 'watch the Doodlebops again'. He just kind of is cool with it. Love that. If I ask the baby if he wants to watch BooBahs, he just looks at me and says, "boobots?" Boobots is his word for Doodlebops and I know it sounds strangely like BooBahs but I promise you, when I turn on BooBahs, he gets pretty unhappy, pretty quickly. It's the fast lane around here people. And why again aren't I skinny from chasing that little one around? Oh yeah, it's the food I eat. Right. Kay that's a totally different story for a completely different day. Lets not go there right now. I'm sure you're thinking the same thing. ;-)

Buh bye BooBahs. Helllooooo Dee Dee, Rooney and Moe (and he can say all their names too; Rooney is tough but he tries it, the other two, he's got them down pat)!

-Jenn

Who Knew?

When you think of the richest athelete in the world, who do you think of? Me, I thought of Tiger Woods, Michael Jordan, or I don't know, even Peyton Manning, or Kobe Bryant. Not David Beckham. Apparantly he just signed a $250 million dollar contract with a LA Soccer Team (?) for five years. $50 million dollars a year. Wow. He does have a nice smile and I like his messy hair (I actually like that messy hair look, it's kind of dreamy, don't know why I think that cause my honey has some very normal and well groomed hair, not a hair out of place kind of thing? I'm all give me the messy I don't care how I look hair, like it) Go David Beckham. Who knew? Just for playing soccer. Wow. Check it.

-J

More Troops?

I am no politician. I will tell you right now that I am not. I still have feelings and rather passionate feelings at that about what is going on in our country right now. Most especially I am very concerned about what is going on in Iraq. What are we doing? What is he doing? Am I so ignorant? Maybe I am. Are we the police of the world? Is it our responsibility? And at what cost? So many lives lost. Maybe that is what is driving me, what is fueling these intense feelings I am having. The situation in Iraq is not only deteriorating but it seems we are not going in the right direction at all--in my opinion, we are going in the exact wrong direction. And now this?

We are sending 21,000 MORE men and women, more AMERICAN soldiers into that country for what? They cannot do what needs to be done. If he really wants to finish what he started, he would need FAR more troops than that. Far more. That is just a small band aid. And what will happen? More deaths, more chances for the militias and death teams, the suicide bandits to kill our men and women? I think it is time for Iraq to step up to the plate and take charge of their own country, it's their responsibility, it's their country. We have done enough. We probably have done way too much. I think we wrongly went in there and now flash forward to all of this; how can we sacrifice more?

How we got here is how we got here. I don't know. We can debate that all day. But now, at this moment in time, I just cannot believe he is saying we are going to send MORE when they need to come HOME. We now have surpassed the same number of lives lost in 9/11 in NYC in Iraq. Does that not strike you as ironic? I just cannot believe it has come to this. I was so hoping he would say something different tonight. I almost can't wrap my mind around it. It's like he's on this mission and it's all his own and while we watch President Bush march to the beat of his very own drum, the people who work under him, the men and women who fight for our country are the ones taking the fall.

I voted for this man; twice. It just feels like he won't listen to anyone. Isn't it enough already? I think this is a sad day.

Jenn

Page Under Construction

Houston we have a problem. I thought I'd get all fancy and do some shuffling around and now my profile is all the way at the bottom of the page and I can't get it back and DO YOU KNOW how much of a pain it is to get the Rock You stuff just right? The HTML link seems to have vanished and I have to figure it all out again. I'd rather it scroll at the top constantly, not on the side so maybe it's time to figure that out anyway.

Anyway, please forgive while the site looks all screwy, I'll get it back up soon.

-J

Baking 101-aa-zz (this is the 'sub' est of sub basic classes)

Here is my kitchen during my attempt at making Chocolate Eclair Cake. I used my sisters recipe and of course, as per the norm, something went wrong the first time with the frosting. I used Hersheys Special Dark Chocolate Powder mix. Too tart. Not sweet enough. Kelly said, try again. Not so hot on the just adding more sugar idea (as she is quite particular about recipes, I am not). So I make the second batch, totally trash the first. I am adding the salt as the recipe calls for and it seems such a small amount of salt, I thought, "oh no one could POSSIBLY taste that little bit of salt, so I threw in some more (note the word "threw" as opposed to measure). The batch of frosting sure LOOKED better and when I tasted it on first taste, it sure tasted better than the first batch. So I pour it on the well built Eclair Cake itself. Looked wonderful. I took another taste of the frosting in the bowl and I was still and paying attention this time and wow, it was salty. Hmm. Wonder why I thought? I really thought that. For about 5 seconds. Then I remembered. Oh yeah. I did throw in that extra salt. Dang it. So by this time, I was supposed to call Kelly back and I had my tail between my legs and I didn't want her to know I messed it up again on the second batch but lo and behold, my good friend rings my telly and wants to know how it's going. Dang it. So I start making a third batch. You know, to pour over the second batch which was now welded to the cake itself; no getting it off. She laughed. Who wouldn't? It's sadly very funny.

So there you have it. A chocolate eclair cake with two layers of chocolate frosting and I hope upon hope that those who eat it tomorrow just taste all the yummy chocolate and don't note the extra extra salt in the first layer of chocoLATE'.

Told ya Kelly. :0) But thanks for being there and helping me get it right. Now the people at the party will get double chocolate Eclair Cake. Nummy. Lets hope so anyway. Jeez.

Jenn

The Littlest

How about THOSE eyes? Sometimes, just sometimes, he fills the cracks in my soul with his boundless joy and love. He melts my heart when he walks up to me and says, "Mamma? Nigh nigh?" and I have to discern if he means it's time for a nap or bed or if he just wants me to hold him so he can lay his sweet little head on my shoulder; just like Lucas used to do. The cracks come back, just like when Winter contracts and shrinks wood in a doorway and the heat of Summer makes that wood swell back up with the end result of this ongoing action being cracks in the wood.....my heart swells and it shrinks and when the cracks are showing, he lifts me up and carries me away. The Oldest too. But those eyes......their language is almost an immeasurable inexplicable wordless journey straight to my heart. The Oldest keeps me on the ground with his wisdom. The Littlest takes me on wonderful flights of adventure. I am quite lucky. I really am.

Spit

Why do guys spit in public? Where did they learn that from? Who teaches them that? Do they have so much saliva in their mouths that they have to dispel of it in that way? Do they learn it from each other? And so much? Like a big puddle of it?

It so disgusts me that if I see it, I cannot even walk anywhere near it, like the ground is now as disgusting as the spit itself. The other day I was walking to the car at the mall and this car had just pulled in right next to ours. I was literally walking towards the rear of our car to open the liftgate but not to the car quite yet and the guy driving the car who parked next to ours got out and spit this ridiculous amount of spit right there, on the ground where I'd have to walk. WT? I had no choice and I just stood there and stared at him. Sometimes I scare myself with my brazeness (sp). What would I have done if he had asked me what I was looking at? I probably would have acted without thinking and said something to egg him on like, "why did you have to spit right there where I have to walk?" and if he had started something back, trouble. I'd have been in trouble.

Think girl, think. One time recently, we were all (all four of us) walking in a WalMart parking lot and we were heading toward the direction of the store itself. On their way out came a trio of girls/women, I'm not sure I think they were women as immature as girls if you ask me. They were talking loud and boisterous in an obnoxious way, enough for me to probably glare at them a bit and then with the cussing. And then with the S and the F and the MF and I'm all gawking and I actually muttered, "what are you...?" and my husband whipped around so fast and gave me one look which said "Quiet". Then as we walked into the store further away from them (and thank goodness, the Oldest did not hear, was oblivious, how I don't know but he was so really, no harm done but still...) my husband said to me, "you aren't the police of the world, honey" . Ugh. Really? No one had yet informed me of that. I thought I was the El Capitan of the world. You know, I'm the boss applesauce. Eh, yeah, right. Kay. No. I know that. But I'm telling you, if he had not been there to bring me back to reality, I would have likely been in a bit of a brawl at the local Wally World. I would have been on the local news with a big black eye, sure would've.

Spit and loud crass talking. My pet peeves. Come on people, have a tiny bit of self respect. I mean, I'm all perfect and what not, so you should be too.

Anyone who knows me, knows I am ANYTHING but perfect. Take it all with a grain of salt. How about the extra salt I put in my icing I made tonight? That I could have done without. ;-) More on that later.

Kachow.

Brave

OK no matter that here I look all funny with my smile or my cheeks are quite full and it shows a lot with this picture, I'm baring this shot because Tammy was brave and did hers and neither of ours is as 'cute' as the other girl she posted yesterday but here I am and there she was and she inspired me so there you go.

I think the best thing I like about me is my eyes. See I can be positive. :)

I wonder...

When you are forced to endure things that you don't want to, that whole feeling of absolutely no control, do you think it sears undue stress into you for the rest of your life? I'm not talking about little things you are forced to do, I'm talking about big things. Like if you are raped. Or if you are forced to watch someone you love die in front of you-in a gruesome way or in a way that has been culminating for a long time such as the way my Lucas died.

I don't know. I have said a thousand and one times that I have changed because of that. I know it's true and so do you. So what's new? I'll tell you what's new. Each day still now, each day I discover something new either about how I feel or a memory and what it might mean or even how calm I can be in a would be/could be high stress moment. I feel stress, it's there, a lot it's there but because I'm like a chameleon now and can hide it so well, on the outside, all you see is calm. I can see the baby getting ready to fall and hurt himself and I just stand there. I suppose I have run before to his side and I have, but mostly, I'll just stand there and let it happen. I tell myself, he has to learn. He wants to crawl up on that couch and stand up? I calmly walk over to him and stand there ready for anything but maybe not all the time do I pull him down. Before? Before Lucas? I would be yelling every time, running like a maniac, putting my hand to my mouth in high drama, now that is not so much.

For all the things I think I am, I'm sure my perception is skewed. And sometimes, when I want to scream at God that I'm angry that they don't get to play together; all three of them right now, I just push it out of my mind and carry on with my day. Where can that go? I'll tell you where, it goes into the stress bottle. And now we're full circle. BUT BUT BUT on that note, I guess that's why I write. To release it all. To remember. To document it all in this new age of blogging and all that jazz..and it helps me stay (helps key word helps) mentally ok. If there's a pill to get me all the way there, I'm all ears. :)

Jenn

Purging/Fixing/Cleaning

It's not spring but I'm feeling like it's time to make some changes in this house. Organizing, and getting rid of things we don't use, no longer need, just sit around, I can't take it! Maybe it's because it's been super mild weather averaging between 50-70 degrees for weeks now and this week will be in 70's? Ya think? Where is Winter? I know because I've said that we'll get slammed with a major snow storm in the next two weeks, you know, talking it up and all that but seriously, seriously, where IS Winter? El Nino I hear has things all wiggedy wacked. So I'll blame it on El Nino. When my husband asks what is wrong with me, when I'm throwing all kinds of things out, fixing the spare room, changing things all around, I'll just say, "El Nino".

I'm leaving Christmas up until January 15th. Then it comes down. I tried to turn the Christmas tree on the night before last and he just turned it right off. Why? Can't I enjoy it a bit longer? Scrooge. That's what he is. OR maybe he's not wanting our neighbors to see our tree from the outside, maybe they'll think we're odd for still having it on? I personally don't care WHAT they think, as per my personality, but HE on the other hand, well, he does. Hmph.

Toys, clothes, old lamps that don't work (and why btw do we HAVE such things?), they're out of here. Gone. Adios. Buh bye. See Ya. Sianara. Catcah on the DL. It's time and it's all the backwards weathers fault that on January 4th, I'm feeling a major rush of Spring Cleaning coming on.

:)

Jenn

The Notebook

I know I'm behind the times but I just finished The Notebook the book. It's a quick read and it's a great love story. I don't care to see the movie, I shed enough tears just reading the book.

The thing I worry about and truly always have, is that one day I will have Alzheimers. In that vein, this book kind of jarred some other worries I have had and just intensified it all.

I said to my husband after reading the book, "Honey, if I end up with Alzheimers, will you still love me?" to which he said, "Well of course, will you REMEMBER to love me?" Such a funny man. But really, not funny. :(

All kidding aside, I have this huge fear, based in some things that happen to me or I do really, that I will have this disease. I probably already have it but it has not reared its ugly head yet. Maybe subconciously, this is why I write so much. I cannot be utterly honest in my writings, because I just can't but I do my best and hopefully, if I ever do end up with Alzheimers, these will be helpful memories for my family. And the Lucas site too. My God, we cannot forget him. I think I'm mortified if my memory goes, no one will remember him. Like I do. With such clarity.

I am going to research if there is a genetic test to see if you have the gene for it. I'm not a hypochondriac (sp), I promise. This is something I have beleived for a long time. Then I read this story and not only did the love stuff move me, but the Alzheimers thing just kind of shook me up too. Good story. Not interested in the movie though. Enough of that.

--J

She's growing up; I must say.

Love her or hate her, she's growing up. I like her better now than when she was in her 'dirty' phase. She's prettier all cleaned up. Ryan Seacrest sure wanted to kiss her! :) Funny that was!