April 20, 2008 @ 09:37

What’s the fastest way out of a pity party?  Lunch with Miss Weight Loss and her hubby, followed by a surprised visit from Mom.  On a very different note, my brother is now back in Iraq.  My mother and I talked about this on her visit.  The way I feel about him is probably more maternal than sisterly.  I am fifteen years older than this boy.  He’s a man now, true, but I keep seeing him with a little boy’s haircut and sneaky grin.  He’s much more than that now.  The young man who has joked about mortar fire and rockets and how funny the people in units who aren’t used to it are when it’s incoming.  Who casually says how great the new armor on the trucks is since they are always shooting at them and trying to blow them up.  His unit has been sent to Basrah.  And he has said that he is worried.  Not to me or Mom, to the man who experienced two tours in Vietnam, his father.  Someone who will understand.  When he has only three months left there.  I am angry and scared for him.  He’s not either of those things.  So I am grateful for his strength.  And I am praying hard for all of them. 

April 18, 2008 @ 19:08

I am very sad tonight, for a number of disconnected reasons.  First, due to circumstances beyond my control, I am not at this moment, loaded into my little car and zipping down a two lane highway, due South, straight towards my Nonnie.  And several other people that I love very very much.  All this week I have been near to giddiness getting ready to go.  But cake requests got complicated and I am a reliable sort of girl.   

Then, during an otherwise ordinary phone call today, a stranger let something slip.  It had the effect of a key slipping into a lock and swinging open a door.  All these clues that I had gathered together in one corner of my mind fell together.  Suddenly I knew something about someone.  Someone that I love and admire and respect.  Someone that is fairly new to my life and that I had hoped was on the way to becoming a close friend.  But as it turns out, they are keeping a secret.  Living a secret actually.  And now that I know it, I am also aware of other things that make me sad.  The saddness of someone feeling that need, to hide their life away.  I understand that sometimes people choose to live their lives in a very private manner solely because it’s their preference, their comfort.  I respect that.  And I hope that is the reason for this.  But I’m also aware now, that we will not ever get to be the close friends that I would have hoped we could be.  There will always be that distance between us, not because we just hadn’t finished crossing it yet, but because they want it that way.  So, I am now missing someone that, as it turns out, I didn’t really know. 

And then this afternoon in yoga class, one of the poses included laying your hand across your throat.  Your are lying on your back, soft and still, vulnerable.  As I placed my hand across my throat, I was instantly struck by how soft my skin was, the strength of my pulse thudding beneath it.  And of how long it had been since anyone had touched me outside of my children.  I’m not about to go into any long lament about sex.  That’s not specifically what I mean.  That is part of it.  But I mean the sort of thing that you miss when you are not in a relationship and that is far far more than just sex.  The hand on your leg in the car.  The brushing past one another in the hall.  Eye contact and shared thoughts.  That sychronized dance that a couple can reach in the kitchen.  Preparing an old favorite dish, each person knowing their part, never having to say scoot over, because they know.  Bringing someone a glass of iced tea because they’ve been working on the yard for the past hour and you know they’re just about to turn the mower off and settle onto the back steps.  Settling onto the steps beside them and loving the smell of sweat and fresh cut grass and familiarity.  That’s what I’m missing most today.  Having a familiar.  Someone that really really knows me.  And likes me.  And loves me for the entire person that I am.  I know that my children love me, absolutely.  But they don’t really know me, do they?  They only know Mommy.  I will never forget the day that my father told me how he had known my mother back in the days when she’d sit in a dark room full of incense, listening to the Beatles and saying things like ” . . . wow . . .”   It was that same sort of feeling I had earlier today, a door swinging open, seeing someone that I thought I knew in an entirely different light.  I realized that my mother had been a million things before me that I never knew.  Shortly after, I learned that she had been a state champion basketball player.  She used to lay outside after dark and stare up at stars.  She wanted to major in Art, but makes her living in accounting instead.  Practical.  I didn’t know my mother before she became practical.  When I get a glimpse of the other side of her, the girl who used to look up at the stars, those are some of our best days together.  And here I am now, myself, being the practical one.  And with no one in my life who knows the girl  who sometimes, just wants to go outside and look up at the stars.  Someone who would go with me, and who would remember to bring the bottle of wine.  And who would know that I really am truthfully afraid of the dark and would not tease me about it.  That would make me less sad tonight. 

April 17, 2008 @ 14:49

I had to go to the doctor today.  But I spent my morning baking.  Four cake requests for Saturday.  One Praline, one Ubercake, one fresh strawberries and cream, and one Belly cake for a baby shower.  When I came back home, I was surprised to discover that I had baked so much that not just my house, but my entire back yard smells like cake.  Very nice.  Either that, or there’s a hole punched in the side of my kitchen that I haven’t noticed . . . 

April 16, 2008 @ 21:52

Have I got the plan . . . 

Not for the Peep Lovin’ Squeamish (also very cool band name). 

Best S’mores ever . . . 

Crush the bunny, torch the Peep and seriously enjoy the sugary goodness.  Yes, I know, the size of my booty is no mystery.  Niether is the source of my genius.  My mother taught me deep and profound love of marshmallowey goodness.  Thanks, Mom!  And the toasted Peep?  Get over the macabre sight of holding the little bunnies and chicks over an open flame, because the sugar coating makes this awesome unnaturally tinted crisp caramel coating, like the top of a creme brulee, only not as good for ya.  Oh, yeah . . . 

April 15, 2008 @ 22:13

I’ve switched to digital cable.  I’m not much of a tv junkie.  But it was a bundled deal, so I took it.  And now I’ve discovered that I can be in charge of the programming schedule.  Oh the DVR and video on demand, they may swallow me whole.  But, my plan is to set the alarm early and do an hour on the bike before work.  And I can catch up with some shows I actually think are great.  Like Good Eats.  Is that weird, that I’m going to bike while watching the Food Network?  Maybe I’ll start to associate working out with fabulous food and I’ll crave it like I crave the fabulous foods.  This will either help me stay on track, or well, at least the bike seat is enormous.  No, seriously, I almost returned the thing when I took it out of the box.  It’s like for a big ole clown butt.  Anyhoo . . .  Anybody wanna place bets on which is gonna win out?  The bike seat or the love seat?  Maybe we’ll start a pool on how long it lasts.  After tonight’s final episode of Biggest Loser, I hope I’m inspired to keep it up long term.  My favorite didn’t win, she was out actually a few weeks back, but I liked all three of the finalists.  Can you even imagine losing over one hundred pounds in six months?  Why, I could be thin by New Year’s Eve!  But all I really want is to be healthier.  I got those test results back from my doctor, not diabetic, but did show an elevated blood sugar level (very slightly) over the past ninety days.  So, no I have not gone over the edge yet, still have time to stay on the healthy side of that line.  Just have to work harder and stop letting the sad days knock me down.  There’s lots of inspiration. 

 In the meantime, last weeks stats . . .  prepare yourselves, they’re ugly . . . 

Miles:  3

Hours of Other Fitness Pursuits:  0

Pounds Lost:  0

Children Nurtured Through Stomach Flu:  2

Resulting in Loads of Laundry:  Eleventy thousand.  This is the only reason I didn’t gain weight this week, I’m betting. 

Enough said . . . 

April 13, 2008 @ 16:56

On this Sunday, I got to wrap my arms around my baby brother.  On Tuesday, he goes back to Iraq.  I’m thankful that he’s only got three months left there.  I’m thankful that he’s going to get a year stateside before Afghanistan. 

April 11, 2008 @ 16:36

 . . .  but, since you are so incredibly busy and important that you cannot be bothered to put away your phone before ringing a door bell, and then cannot be bothered to speak to the person who answered the door as they ask if they can direct you to the person you’re looking for, but push past them while continuing to text and craning your neck to see around them to find the person you are there to see, may I ask where you are parked?  ‘Cause I’m just a little curious to see what god drives.  Ya know? 

So I’ve been letting our last doctor’s visit settle for a couple of days before I talked about it.  I’m reeling.  In  the strangest way.  I’m afraid to speak it out loud.  I suspect this must be the feeling one would have holding a lottery ticket with five matching numbers and waiting to hear the sixth.  So after our doctor’s visit on Tuesday, we’ve been set to get new rounds of tests and some new evaluations and an IQ test.  We’ve tackled what we could already with speech, behavioral and occupational therapy.  We’ve made major changes in our home life, diet, routine, and how we do almost everything.  The results?  Major improvements.  I’m afraid to say it, to put it down in black and white.  Partly because I’m finding it so hard to believe.  And because it feels like a cruel prank.  Like I’m standing on the front steps in a really bad dress like Drew in Never Been Kissed.  But, the doctor has expressed some possibility of changing her mind.  On Puppy’s diagnosis.  Yeah, you read that right.  She informed me that she is now leaning towards specifying him as having Autistic traits, but may reduce that even further if we keep our progress up.  And she made it sound so simple.  Hmmm, think I’ll just change this tiny little thing.  Like it’s a tiny little thing.  Just speaking a word.  Just snipping a thread.  Just . . .  simply . .  saying it.  I am not excited.  I am not hopeful.  I am not fearful either.  I am just in shock.  Is what we have been doing working that well?  Sincerely?  I know I’ve railed in the past about early intervention being the key.  But did we do it?  Did we beat it?  I’m truly at a loss.  What has created this turn?  His robotic speech has become less detached.  He has begun using it as a tool.  To connect.  And that seems to be a major turning point.  So, everybody say your prayers, send out your good thoughts, meditate on what may be a really big catch for Puppy.  Okay?  Because I’m too scared to say it out loud probably at all after today.  I’m just going to concentrate on doing what we’ve been doing.  And not making any sudden moves for fear of scaring away the possibility that we have won . . .  if not the war, at least a some very important battles. 

April 08, 2008 @ 17:47

Today Puppy and I visited the specialist that first used the A word . . .  Will anyone be surprised when I say we got no answers?  Only a new appointment in four months and more homework.  Take more tests and come back later.  I’m okay with that.  He’s improved enough with our interventions so far that she wants more before labeling him any further.  We agree.  It was in general a good day.  I emailed E yesterday about looking for one of Puppy’s jackets.  I was pretty sure we’d left it behind at their place and it’s his best new jacket for Spring weather.  Today E showed up at my office to deliver it.  Less than 24 hours and he finds it AND delivers it?  I was just hoping to locate it and work out getting it home next visit.  But not for E.  He’s seriously bucking for father of the year.  And we appreciate him so much for it. 

The best moment of the day, however, happened in the waiting room play area. 

“Mommy!  I need to rock.”  Puppy says and begins to dance. 

I watch with glee. 

“Hey, Mommy!  You just dance and I’ll just rock!” 

 He continues to rock out with no music but what’s in his head.  Aunt Dawna will be so proud when she reads this.  Wonder where he gets it . . .  

April 07, 2008 @ 17:53

My conversation with Puppy on the way home today . . . 

“Hey, Mommy, what’s this?  For me or for you?”, while pointing to the cup of Sprite I had for him. 

“That’s for you.”  I said. 

“That’s right and it’s delicious!” 

“Are you hungry?  What should we make for dinner tonight?”  I asked. 

“No, I’m not hungry, I’m feeling gamesey.” 

Wait a minute, did I hear that correctly?  “You’re feeling what?”  I asked. 

“I’m feeling very gamesey.  I need to play PBSKids.org” 

I snort laughed for three blocks. 

Weekly stats: 

Miles:  4

Hours of Other Fitness Pursuits:  3

Pounds Lost:  0

Hours spent watching “I Can Make You Thin” on TLC :  Not enough apparently . . .  I’ll have to work harder on visualizing those mayonaise popsicles and the week Nonnie and I spent camping at Lilies last year.