A Trip For The Ages

I have so much to tell, so much to write. Right now there is laundry and groceries and gettting the boys up for goodness sake. We just got home; walked in the door-at 12:30 a.m. last night (or this morning shall I say). Very drained from a wonderful trip. More when I get the chance in the next 24 hours or so. Some very funny stories so please do stay tuned...

See you on the other side....

Adios, Peace Out, Sianara, See You When I See You...

Off to Arizona for my cousin's wedding. Tally ho!

-J

So True....

Love is patient
Love is kind

Love will make you lose your mind

--watched 27 Dresses last night and loved the movie (my husband surprised the pants off me (not literally unfortunately ;) by staying awake for the whole movie).

He.did.not.fall.asleep.during.this.movie. ---some would call it a chick flick and yes, maybe it was but the man standing behind me in line at RedBox told me he loved it and lo and behold my honey watched the whole thing and said, "good choice J" hmmmm. Reeeeeeallly?????

Loved that quote though, made me chuckle. So true; true dat. Great little flickeroni though. Dug it. Had the whole sister thing going on. Mmm hmmm. Sure did.

Peace.

This Time, It's Democrats

We all have opinions. They make the world go round. No one person is perfect; not even with a very smart staff are perfect decisions made all of the time (remember when George Bush got on that Naval Carrier and declared we'd "won the war" so early on; bad move--look at us now). This is certainly not the basis for my decision, simply a very small example of how no one is perfect; most particularly "Dubya". I voted for the man. Twice. Sure did. Was proud to give him my vote. If only I knew then what I know now.
I'm not a staunch Republican or Democrat; neither. I vote for who I think will do the best at the helm of our country. Neither person, no matter who, no matter which election, no matter what year, niether candidate is EVER perfect. Neither one will always 100% of the time provide perfect guidance to the citizens of our country. All will make mistakes. Every President has, can't name one who has not. Out of some notables and top rated (by some including me) are:

1. Ronald Reagan
2. Theodore Roosevelt
3. Abraham Lincoln

But even out of those, mistakes were made. Rest assured it will happen no matter who this country votes in. In my opinion, if we vote for McCain, who is literally straddled, tied to, and weighed down in cement in Bush policies, we get what we have now. A big mess. A very big continuation of more of the same. If Obama gets in, we aren't really entirely sure what we're getting, we have an idea, and lots of people are making him sound worse than he may be, but he wants change from the way it is now and as far as I'm concerned, I'm purely voting for that. I don't really care if he changes his position on when the troops are coming home. Yes, I want them home, think they should have been home years ago actually, but if Barack Obama has to add time to his original thought of when he's pulling them home, who cares? I know for a fact, he wants them home sooner than John McCain and I'm quite sure Obama will go about making it happen; 16 months, 24 months, or even 36 months is a hell of a lot shorter time frame than 40-50 years. No? We shouldn't have gone there in the first place. Oh wait, yes, GWB is an oil man on the side, I guess someone is going to tell me that it's nothing but a coincidence where our troops ended up. In the middle of Oil Country, George Bush's OTHER occupation and little side business has everything to do with that. What are the clear results of us going into this war? Someone please tell me.

What is my point? Barack Obama will not be perfect. But he is young, he speaks from his heart, he listens, and he wants a better America. Getting to that point will probably not be fun for anyone, inlcluding us, the citizens of this country. John McCain is too old and wants things to remain as they are, he's old school and his health and age (for such a stressful job) definitely concern me. John McCain if voted in will not be perfect, neither of them will be. Go with who you want, who you think will take America out of the tank it's in, bring it to a better level, help our International Allies (and even enemies) view us in a better light. That's why this country is so beautiful, you may vote for who you think is the best person. It's your RIGHT.

Last time it was Republicans. This time, it's Democrats. Will I be right or wrong? I guess we won't know till later.

Oldest

Playing in the Ocean. He's so full of life. Love that. Love him. Have fun in the summer buddy.

-J

Home Made Lego Pinata

So it's hard to see but I also made a Lego Pinata. Here is the Littlest hitting it first. Then below the Oldest. Fun day. Best part for me was watching the kids hit that box. Awesome memories.

-J

@#$%^^^&&@@####!!!!!

Update: HERE is a picture of the CAKE from Heaven (ahem). Thank you everyone for being so gracious about it and not openly mocking me. Phew. Ok, resume the rest of the post from O Dark Thirty this morning. (sigh)

What in GOD's name made me think I could frost a freakin' cake? Do ANYTHING with regards to baking? I am not kidding you when I say I have frosting on my face, just got off the floor balling my eyes out, screwed up the cake worse than beyond ever being able to save and I'd swear to you, I am not telling you a lie I would much much much rather sit here for 47 hours straight and write mumbo jumbo that comes spewing from my brain and fingers than EVER go to cooking school, baking school, have to try to do anything with cooking or baking. I didn't even bake the flippin cake! I got it from Costco and can't even frost it! Clearly! It's done.

Sorry Oldest, your little gathering for your bday will be nice but for your cake. This is not a joke. This is not a PSA, this is not an Emergency Broadcast Message, this is the truth.

I am a quarter of an inch from throwing it down the disposal and going to bed. But for the 14.99 I spent on the cake I would do just that. Should have had them frost it too. Why didn't I? Cause I had a GRAND idea I could make it into a LEGO cake. Ha!

Wrong-O Mike!

Ka Pewey! (that was a spit!)

-J

Use Em Up

Ever feel used in your own life? Taken for granted and the taker for grantedness is clueless that they do it? Bet if you weren't in their life anymore they'd know how much they needed you, how you may have ran circles around them as they sat and had a wonderful life. Bet so. Use 'em up and go back for more. She'll do it. She always does. She doesn't mind. She's good like that.

Maybe I do bring it on myself. Maybe I sent out a big ass invitation to use me up. I'll have to go back and see if I can find the invite. See if there's any fine print I missed that I didn't know was there when I sent it off.

I would love to be the wonderful life person and know that the other person, the taker for grantedness person, was truly ok with doing a lot of crap for a while. You know, low to no resentment and all. Just loving making my life easier and watching me have a wonderful life. Must be nice. 'Sall I gotta say on that. Cause I'm done; peace out and PO'd and walk away done.

ReLiving The Days of Old

I feel it coming. Tennis. It was one of the marking points of my youth. I tried out for the high school team (much to the dismay of my mom and dad who wanted me to try for softball) in tenth grade. Looking back, they might have been right, I probably took the lessons because of my friend, but I found out I was pretty ok at it. The tennis instructor told me I should try out for the team the following school year. I did. I made the team. I made the team every year after that. My senior year I fought hard for my best positions on the team ever at #3 seed for singles and #1 seed for doubles. Loved it all and had so much fun playing. I remember fighting tooth and nail for some of my matches but never being frustrated, always having a blast.

When I went to college here locally, I tried out for the tennis team and made it again. Competition was tougher for that level (even though the school was a small Division 3) but I still got seeded for singles at #6 and for doubles was #3. Trying out for both positions was big stress, and even though I was having fun, this was the first time I remembered being stressed playing tennis. Turns out, it was a distraction for me and my grades suffered. Truth is, I really don't think my heart was ever in school and I probably allowed many things to distract me; unwittingly setting my path away from Education in general. At the time I think I was thinking that the easier path was not to finish school but in the end, (and thank God I had some normal common sense coupled with a small dose of natural quick thinking smarts) the path I ended up taking was the more difficult one; by far. Do I like it that way? Yes. Again, for the millionth time, I digress. I can talk about this some other day. And I will.

I was on tennis, right? Right. We have some close friends who both play tennis. My honey and I have not played in literally ten years. Sad. Really sad. We saw them recently and we all got to talking about tennis and I feel it happening as we are talking....that old feeling, the zingy excited feeling when I think of playing tennis. Flash forward...we are outside playing the other evening, almost dark but not quite totally and we pick up our rackets, old as dirt, strings about to pop from sheer age, and we find some plastic ball and go to town. We cracked the ball. Out in the cul de sac, two grown adults hitting the heck out of the ball having a blast and bam, it cracks. Of COURSE it cracked, good LORD we are hyper competitive and then put us together with a sport we both love and well, you get it. Done. Poor ball.

Tennis here we come. The Littlest is getting a bit older, less super dependant, we can either bring him or leave him with someone (Auntie P or Grammy/Granpa maybe...) and get back into it. I've always loved it and obviously that has not diminished...not one iota. Days of old? Try days of new. ;)

-J

An Interview About Dad..

This is from the plane ride to Ohio. This is me chatting with the Oldest and having a little idea that me interviewing him in the persona of someone other than his Mom (me) would be fun. This is me asking him questions about his Dad. Lots of fun. Verbatim, see what our conversation held:

Me: Describer your father, Oldest.
Oldest: --very mysterious
--sometimes grumpy (REEEally?)
--very careful (hmmmm)
--loving
--funny
--doesn't like to read books a lot
Me: What do you love most about your Dad?
Oldest: That I can relate to him in so many ways (again with the hmmmmm)
Me: Where was your Dad born?
Oldest: Philippines (this is wrong, he was born in the States at a local Naval hospital)
Me: How old is your Dad?
Oldest: 42 (he's right!)
Me: How many brothers and sisters does your Dad have?
Oldest: Nine (phew!!!----but he DOES have six of them, one in Heaven)
Me: What is the one thing you wish you could change about your Dad if you could?
Oldest: Nothing. He's just great the way he is (wow, even with the grumpy comment, impressive).
Me: What's one thing you want us to know about your Dad?
Oldest: He's the best, greatest, most kind Dad and man ever.

Now there's an interview that I did with him about me but I pretended I was someone else and he had to pretend it was not me talking to him asking him questions about me (GG!). I will pull it out and slap it up here. This is from the heart, soul, and mind of an eight year old. Fun times and memories on a plane. Great little distraction for me too :).

When we get on another plane in about three weeks, I may do it again and later compare and see if his answers are the same or different. My special boy. Fun.

Oh How My Garden Grows....

I have begun to find huge peace in being outside. Weeding (rue the day, I thought it'd never come) brings me countless moments of solitude that I don't normally get. Pruning my flowers and bushes and watering once a day, finding any excuse to be outside near all of it. I love watching the flowers grow from seeds, taller and taller and then finally, a bud appears and you'd think someone was giving me a big fat present (well, they are....) because I get excited and giddy at the thought. I call over the poor Oldest and his Dad and they just stand there, staring, looking really hard for the exciting thing. When I look at them looking at IT, the beauty, I can see, it's lost on them. The Oldest tries really hard to show excitement and muster it up. He sees how happy I am and he feigns the same but I can see, he's almost grinning at trying so hard to be excited. Finally the other day he said to me, "Mom you're really into your flowers aren't you?" Hmmm. Well. Yes, I suppose I am.

So now I have Zinnia growing and they sprouted their first buds of flowers this morning. I have a ton of other things in the works and they are tiny baby seeds just sprouting. The Littlest helps me water them and we talk to them and he thinks its absolutely a blast that we are talking to baby plants. He loves it and laughes that we are talking to them. And when we water them we turn the flow down really low and water them just enough strength so not to blast them down and we talk in these baby baby voices and he thinks it's a hoot. Then that makes me smile and before you know it, we're all smiling, either genuinely or at one another. Smiling and laughing is infectious isn't it? It is.

I put some new Oriental Grass up by the mailbox. They won't stand up right. So I put a dowel in the middle of one of them and took some twine and tied them upright. Looks better but not natural now. Can't get it right. They are BEAUTIFUL. Can't stand the sight of weeds now.

When I was a young teenager my then best friend and I would spend literally all our time together. The summer was basically one thing after another after another. Her mom used to make her weed all the time. I thought it was absolutely ridiculous. We never weeded! What in the world? I thought it was a huge waste of time, we could be playing tennis or....playing tennis for that matter! Sometimes I would pitch in and weed with her and complain the whole time. Phew. It's hard to appreciate the silent wonderful gifts from God when you are a teenager who wants no responsibilites and play all the time. I mean really! These are things you have to learn and appreciate as an adult maybe; I'm not sure but in my case, it went down like that. Long winding road to appreciate such things for sure. Good Heavens, I couldn't even appreciate how my sister would want to change a room around four times in one month, she wore my butt OUT. I like things just the way they are, till I get my own gumption and idea. Don't tell me how to move it, what to do, what to say, what to wear, what to move, what to get, anything. Don't tell me what to do!

I love watching the snapdragons come to life and grow so vibrant and tall. It's almost synonomous with watching the boys do the same, in the same time and beat. I love watching the Hydranga bloom so full and blue and pale pink and gulping up the water by the bucket loads. The Lantana so bold and bright with their yellows and pinks constant through the summer. I can count on that if nothing else, that Lantana bush has bloomed so very full three summers in a row. Gorgeous and effervescant shooting from the ground in plumes of dark pinks and vivid yellows. Love it all. I think I stand out there and just fix it all and water it all and look at it all and maybe it's a control thing...but only a little. It's definitely a beauty thing. It definitely is that. My garden is not in one place in my yard, it's here and there and everywhere and it's growing every day and each season I add a new Perrenial or two and anticipate and wait so I can see and love how my garden grows. --Like the boys, it's adding this and fixing that and loving. Always loving.

A Sleepover...

So for the first time ever, the boys are having a "sleepover" together. The Littlest is sleeping in the Oldest' bed. You should see it. I have a wall of thick blankets on one side of the Littlest and the Oldest of course is on the other side. On the floor beside the Littlest are two pillows, another blanket and a bean bag; all in case he falls off the bed.

I'm not too overprotective am I? He usually sleeps in his FireTruck Bed and there's no chance of him falling off. In the big boy bed, he can fall off. I'm good, I'm not sitting in there waiting for him to fall or anything....but I've just covered all bases in case he DOES fall.

I guess more than anything, just a little excited to see them interacting and faving fun like this. You KNOW I've already taken pictures of them right? Right. Both passed out. The Littlest is happy cause he thinks he's a big boy now and the Oldest is happy because he loves his baby brother so much, and this is a first. Probably of many more to come. Fun brother stuff!

Pictures later. Too lazy at 12:25 a.m. to go down and upload the pix. Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

I'm looking forward to a nice, easy, relaxing next few days with my boys. Taking it easy. Staycation.

-J

PS I have added the pic; it's the next morning and the task is complete. Donya.

The Beauty of God and Nature..The Wonder of It All..

As you all know, I very much relate flying things, mostly butterflys and even dragonflys with Lucas, my son who is now in Heaven. He's been there without us, without me, for almost five years now. That seems like a long time yet sometimes, it feels like moments ago. Then I look at the Littlest and realize, no, it's really been five years. To think, when Lucas died, I was adamant, no more children. We discussed, my husband and I, we discussed when Lucas was at CHOP for those two months, we whispered on the rare nights we were together in bed talking into the night, like best friends with stolen moments, we'd whisper that we couldn't do it again, didn't want to do it again. And he was still alive, struggling, and so sick. But still alive. Still alive and we were already talking about could we do it again. I suppose looking back, maybe that was a huge slap in the face to Lucas. Thank God he could not hear us. Thank God we never had those conversations in his room at the hospital. Of course not. I think at the end, it got too hard. It just got so hard that I was worn down watching him get worn down. I tried every day to hold my head up high, not see how completely overweight and out of control I was getting, my every emotion on a frazzled string about to break, and I read to him, sang to him, talked to him, every single day. Brushed his hair, put lotion on his skin, massaged him, tried his pacy, remember it all? I did. I fought so hard for him and made him fight hard too. Until we could see, we had no choice but to see, he was silently speaking to our eyes, he was ready, it was time. And he flew away to Heaven. Like a beautiful butterfly his soul took flight and now he comes back to us; like this.

This is something I captured in the front yard. That flower is the flower of a butterfly bush. Thanks Mom, Mindy and Val for that meaningful gift. Now they come to the front door all the time. This is just one I happened to be able to get on film; it seemed to be perfectly content for far too long there. The temptation to get the camera was too great. When I came back from inside, it was still there. Beautiful Lucas. Let me think it. The belief I have in that is intrinsically tied to my heart strings. Don't even think of bursting my bubble.

We are born, we live, we die. It's how we chose to live the moments we are given that will determine our forevers. I choose to cherish all things living, cherish family, cherish friends, cherish memories, and give back in small ways when possible. I think, if we live like that, and in the beauty of God's Grace, then the wonder will not be how we managed to live through this crazy life but rather how we chose to make the hard choices and do the right things even when the easy road seemed so tempting.

I chose life. I miss Lucas and I know I will see him again, without a shadow of a shadow of a doubt, but I chose life. Five years later, I can say that. Five years ago, notsomuch. Five years ago there was a therapist asking me if I wanted to do harm to myself and I found myself looking her in the eyes deadpan with no words. The truth in me? Yes. It was a truth that never escaped my lips and a truth I never let come to fruition. I imagined how many many times in that first year. I lay and look at that bathroom by my bed and knew how I could do it, but then I looked in the other direction and took the harder road. The road where I got up every day and did not hide away from the world. That road led me here. That road led me to take a picture of that beautiful butterfly. And I am just barely wise enough to know why. Just barely. Thank you Lord for that.

Jenn