And Then One Morning I Woke Up And The Nightmare Was Over

When our children are small and through their teens we are always available to help. To Protect. To Save. But what happens when an adult child makes mistakes? How far should we go to save them? What if they keep making the same mistakes over and over? Does it depend on the age? Do we stop helping at 18, 20, 25, 30?

 I know what to do when someone has a drug or alcohol problem that they refuse to give up. As hard as it is you have to cut them off. You have to be wary. And you have to know that as an adult they can't really be helped until they want to be saved. For real. But what if the issue is just bad judgment in general? How long do you help someone who sabotages their life every time they get it together?

A week ago last Saturday Middlest called me in the middle of the night sobbing her eyes out. Her words were, "Why are you always right?" She wanted to come home. And what did we do? We got in the car and drove 12 hours in one day to bring her back. We knew she was in a bad situation but she made her choice and there wasn't much we could do. During the time she was gone she glossed over what was going on and continued to sound positive. This guy was straightening up. He had a job. They were getting married. She was having a baby. Everything was going to be fine. She was sure of it.

When we got her home the truth came out. He never quit drinking at all. Her bank account was cleaned out. During a short time they had stayed in a hotel and he was stealing her cash and going out to drink.  His behavior was becoming scary. He lost two jobs in two weeks and had found a pretty decent one so she was giving him another chance. And. He chose to drink again. This was another chance after he already had become physical with her and shoved her against a wall. They were living in a dilapidated trailer with holes in the walls and no heat or air and no stove. They had no money.  They had no transportation. They didn't have enough food. Luckily his family helped out a little with that so she didn't starve. She has been having spotting and cramping all along. But you see, she wanted this so bad. She thought she could save him. She thought she could save the situation. She thought she could fix the first mistake she made by compounding the mistakes and that she could make it work. Because she was living in a dream world of hope. And it wasn't real. And when the world came crashing down all she wanted was the life she had carelessly discarded and lost to come back. It doesn't happen quite that way. But we can't leave our child in danger and so we saved her. Again. She is home, and not out of state which is a relief. There will be no wedding to this creep and for that we are thankful. We will be looking over our shoulders for awhile and that is frightening. we don't know what he will do next. We all just hope he chooses to move on. And there will be no child. Middlest has cystic ovaries. She has had problems since she was about 16. She was drinking and smoking during the first few weeks before she found out. She was malnourished and she was under an incredible amount of stress dealing with this guys very serious problems and trying to make this work and keep an upbeat front for us. She has had a miscarriage. My heart breaks for her because she had allowed herself that little light of hope for the sake of this. It chokes me to say the words 'for the best', but it truly is.  I tell her it will be ok. She worries because this problem in our family leads to early hysterectomies. I had mine when I was 31. My sister was in her early twenties and as a result is childless. She's afraid she won't be able to have children. But I tell her someday it will happen. One way or another the little boy she wishes for will be hers when the time is right and she is truly ready and able. For now she needs to do some healing and start over-again.

Middlest has a 'guy problem'. As many years as I've told her to respect and depend on herself first and be the center of her own life first she has continued to fall in this trap. She has walked flat away from some terrific young men and been drawn instead to the damaged and damaging. Middlest is a young woman of faith. She's my only daughter that goes to church of her own free will. And she wants to love and take care of these broken people. It is a disastrous tendency. I've told her, "make it your career, don't make it your personal life." So far she hasn't learned. I'm hoping now that she finally has.

Which leaves us in this position. A 20 year old penniless unemployed daughter becoming dependent on us again. We don't mind if she lives with us forever if she's making the most of her life. We've told her that many times. She's an incredibly bright, talented, and lovely girl. She's sabotaged her schooling, her jobs and her personal life over and over again. For the time being we have told her that she's basically 13 around here for now. Her lack of judgment and discernment shows a person whose maturity is far from her age. We can't trust her. We can't believe anything she says. Just like an addict she has to surrender control to us for the time being. We have made it clear that we will always be there for her. But we can't save her from herself anymore. We can't clean up her messes any longer. We are helping her start over and when she is on her feet and her decisions are hers she is on her own.

For 26 years 'All I Ever Wanted' was for my daughters to have 'All They Ever Wanted.'
What I've learned as a parent is that 'All They Ever Wanted' is not always what is best for them. The choices they make have a hand in it. So I revise that. All I want for my daughters is 'what is best for them'. At least I learned something along the way.

I didn't know I could ever grieve again the way I have over the past month. The worst moment of all was this. It had been ten years since I felt that hopeless. God came real close to going over that line of what I can handle, but I'm sure he's a little distracted these days with the big picture, and in the end he gave me 'All I Wanted'. Which was for all this to just disappear and things be the way they were before. And weirdly, that is close to where they are today. Our anxiety is still a little high because we can't be sure it's entirely over but basically my house has returned to functioning as it did exactly one month ago. Two of my adult daughters are on the balcony belting the song:
 I'm Not Wearing Underwear Today."

Like waking up from a nightmare.

I don't want to be sad and angry here ever again.

I've been staying away from blogging while I gather the pieces of myself back together. I'm back.

And to begin I have listed what I am thinking about today on my other blog if you care to peek:

Good Things

Little things that get me through and that I am thankful for.

Thank you for being there for me dear cyber friends. There are some things you can't share in the real world when you are the kind of person that doesn't want to sob in front of people and doesn't want them to try to touch and console you because it just makes it worse. Just letting me know you're out there somewhere helped me through : )





© 2013 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

Bereft

My Heart is broken

Seeming so perfect when it was born

But the beauty hid the truth

The brightness camouflaged the defect

For twenty years my heart lived wrapped

Deep within the safety of my love

And time told the story

My Heart beats to a drummer with no rhythm

No Reason

No reality

I held my heart close to keep it safe

But the ragged edges cut through my flesh

like shattered glass

A reflection in pieces so fragmented

they can never be repaired

The truth

My Heart is broken

And broken is my heart

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Definition of bereft (adj)

 

be·reft

 [ bi réft ]   

1. deprived: deprived of somebody or something loved or valued
2. lacking: lacking in something desirable or necessary
3. feeling sense of loss: filled with a sense of loss

Synonyms: deprived, bereaved, mourning, in mourning, grieving, orphaned, widowed

© 2013 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

At Least I Totally Won THIS Argument

I'm revisiting the past again. But this time I am going back pre-blog and kind of why I started the blog. I was going through an older email account that I rarely use and found this in my sent box.
It's from April of 2009 and may explain why I needed an outlet. I was trying to raise Middlest. You see, Because no grounding could ever hold Biggest and Littlest was obnoxious and will argue her point to the death, but ultimately remain obedient,
 Middlest IS The Original Perpetually Grounded.

The following is an email sent to and replied to by a fifteen year old Middlest. It was during the Godforsaken Twilight heyday and she had a crush on a creepy little...creep...who liked to pretend he was a vampire and wrote her long, romantic, Gothic essays of love. I particularly liked the one where he forgot to change his old girlfriends name to hers in one paragraph. You know the type.

Anyway. I was amused when I found this and hope you will be too. And of course...

I Totally Win.

What is really so great about vampires? What can vampires do? Live forever and drink blood and what.......

Some of them are snappy dressers?

Vampires smell, kind of musty.  And they can't check the mirror to see if their hair is messy or if their makeup is on straight. They suck at making breakfast.

Why do vampires make bad love interests?

A night out is no fun. They are a waste of a good meal and money at a nice restaurant. They will just sit and stare at you while you eat, so you feel like you have something on your chin. 

Vampires can't dance, they have no heartbeat so they can't keep rhythm. 

They go see all the new movies while your sleeping and then tell you the endings.

They can't go to the zoo.

They won't help with yard work because they are afraid they might impale themselves on a rake handle.

When they kiss you goodnight they leave holes, so the next day you look like you have herpes.

You hear they were seen out with another chick and they tell you it "was just dinner". But can you be sure?

You can't have a long term relationship. You start to age, but they LOOOVE YOU so they really won't risk your soul, so they just start to stay out a little later.

Vampires can't 'love physically', they just look at you all mooney. And when you start to look like their mother they get all funky about it.

Vampires are fun to watch and read about. But living with one? All that vacuuming up the coffin dirt. Having to scrape all the bat crap off the garage floor when your parents are visiting. Trying to smile and repeat once again how much you LOVE blood pudding while you're at the butchers. Oh yeah, you have to quit shaving your legs cause if you nick yourself, you might be done for. You can't snuggle with a vampire, they are too cool for that, or is it cold? Well, either way.

Middlest:

why vampires totally beat lame human boys

Vampires don't change. If they really love you, you can coerce them into changing you. Vampires don't sweat. Vampires don't mind freaky obsessions with "myth" because, well, they are considered fantasy. Vampires don't get confused about their emotions. Also, vampires have probably read ALOT of books and lived during a ton of really cool historic events. No more history books! Vampires can help you cheat on your math test. Were said vampire to change you, you wouldn't fall down as much. If your vampire is wearing makeup, there might be a problem, and hey, men don't fix their hair anyways.

Oh, and vampires can't die so you're not always worrying when they pull stupid stunts or that some jerk is gonna shoot them. Vampires know more than your mom and can be perfectly silent and sneak into your room after the parents are asleep so you can spend hours talking to them about everything. Vampires will not always be "too old". Eventually you catch up. Also vampires have already lived their lives a thousand times over so they can really help with little problems.

Vampires don't have to sleep, so when its two a.m. and you're being trigger happy, you have SOMEONE to talk to you and make it better. Let's not forget vampires (possibly) can read you mind so you never have to explain those annoying little things that you just don't wanna explain.

Vampires can take you anywhere really fast, for that perfect romantic date.

Vampires give a different insight into the world that will be all together refreshing.

 

 

Yeah. I Totally Won. Except for the math test part. That's a good point. But,
"Vampires know more than your mother."?
Not if they live a million years darling.. even when the names and ages and what they claim to be change over time..not in a million years. Most definitely not in four : )

 

© 2013 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

I Built This Castle

TO: You Know Which Daughter You Are.


I've been shoring up your walls so long
You hammer a beat to your own song.

I labored for this strong and tall
To make certain that you'd never fall.
When you stray I call you back
I fill another gaping crack.
Find tumbled stones, how did I miss?
And wonder how it came to this.

As soon as my back is turned
You forget all you've learned.

Marauders come to pillage and break
Then toss away the treasures they take.
I grab a shovel and dig a moat.
Somehow they will find a boat.
My arrows ready, I will shoot
Pull weeds out at the root

Behind a wall of gracious deeds
Smiling, you plant more seeds.

I lug some wood to prop things straight
Rebuild what I might create
Whitewash splashed on the wall
Excuses made to explain a fall
All this to postpone the fear
Of losing what I hold so dear.

With no regard to what I say
You gladly let it crumble away.

I ponder and wonder day and night
How I didn't get it right
I laid the plans and followed through
Knew exactly what to do
To accomplish this great endeavor
A master work to last forever

Deep inside the truth is known
You chip away at your own stone.



© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

Wordless Wednesday: MY Desktop

 

 

 

© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

What Do I Say Now?

When I was 19 I had a decent job and I moved in with my boyfriend (later know as my husband The SeaMonkey) My parents weren't much on pushing, or directing, or even guiding. They would encourage. That was ok. I didn't have to argue with them because when I made my choices I was sure that I knew everything and I was always right. Many things I didn't give up on, I just never got around to them...yet. It worked out just fine. I have no regrets about my decisions. I also never had any doubt that if I had chosen a different path I would have succeeded as well.

But always at the back of my mind I wondered if I had been enouraged, pushed, or guided, or even directed, I would have chosen a different way. This put me in a conundrum, because if that had happened, I wouldn't be here and I wouldn't have......yeah.

So when I had my daughters I decided it would be best to encourage, of course, and absolutely to guide and to sometimes direct but not to push. That way I would know that they knew they had carefully considered all of their possibilities and followed the right path. Because I know everything and I am always right I knew that this would work beautifully.

On my very first post on this blog I wrote that the main thing I had learned as a parent is that in Nature verses Nurture; Nature Wins. I began the blog because having survived my oldest daughters decisions I was now dealing with The Middlests decisions. And still trying to encourage, direct and guide.

Long ago on this blog I also wrote a post called The Letter.

When Biggest was 19 she wrote her father and me a letter. While at that time she didn't use the words "you were right." She did use these:

"I know I've pulled a lot of stunts and I'm sure I'll have more, but thanx for always being there, and I'm sorry for those stunts. I know I put Ya'll through a lot"
Also,
"If I apologize for everything it will take a book so I hope you know all the things I did I'm sorry for and thankful that Ya'll still talk to me, and most of all I love you very much".

 Thank You. You're a good girl and I love you.

My Middlest is turning 19 this week.

She called me and said;

I've had an epiphany. I saw what I have lost. Everything I threw away. I'm so sorry mom. I screwed up. I made so many mistakes and I screwed everything up. You were right.  And I will listen to everything you tell me from now on because:

"You Do Know Everything."
and
"You Are Always Right."

Well. Yeah.

But what do I say now? I have talked till I'm blue in the face, talked till I'm hoarse, talked to a wall, talked to myself. At this point what else is there to say?

I said, Thank You. Later, when she was here I told her, "you're a good girl and I love you." I also told her that it's not too late. It's never too late. Things may be harder. There are no quarantees. But. You never know unless you try. And only try if YOU want to. I say focus. Pick one thing to stick to. Then do it. That's all that's left for me to say. She does. For a day or so. Then more ideas come or return. She shoves them in her basket too. She'll get around to them. It's never too late. These are her decisions. I cannot choose them for her.

Over the past year Middlest has gone through a plethora of ideas. Her thoughts float out in all directions and waft away. They roll in and suck out like the tide only to roll back again. Become full and round then dwindle to crescents and swell full again.

She is turning nineteen. She hasn't given up on school. She has a decent job. Her boyfriend is in the process of buying a house and she's moving in with him. ( Any resemblance to her mother is purely a coincidence and means nothing ; )

I say: As long as you believe in it that is all that matters. As long as YOU are happy with the decisions that is all that matters. As long as you can feed yourself that is Really all that matters. Whatever you do will be alright, as long as you carry on.

I say Happy Birthday to My Moonlight!

...because my Moonshine don't sound quite right....

Middlest Music

© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

The Daisy Picker

A Parenting Fail. Or. A Public Service Announcement. However you like to take it.

 Middlest was a fairly quiet child. Even before she could read you could often find her with a book. Once she could read you could always find her with her nose buried in a book. And I do mean literally buried in a book. A head with hair and ears and a book jacket for features. Literally inches from the book.  But she also was pretty active. She wasn't the most graceful child on land but she loved swimming particularly. And when she showed interest we signed her up for T-Ball. She was pretty good at it too...because, honestly...who isn't good at T-Ball? But she always hit the ball.

When she was six she moved up to softball. She enjoyed herself. After all, for part of the game you get to sit on a bench and then there was snack afterward. But truly. She did enjoy it when it was her turn to hit. Until the girls were old enough for junior league they used a pitching machine. At first, just like the other girls,  Mid had a little trouble adjusting. Keep your eye on the ball, the coach would shout. The pitches came in true and unvaried most of the time and before long Middlest was very consistent in her batting. "Keep your eye on the ball,  they said. And she did. Then she would run. Looking down at her feet she would follow the clay trail from base to base. stopping at each one and looking up to listen and see if she was being cheered on to continue. Was the baseman holding a ball? No? She industriously lowered her head and chugged on. "Keep you eye on the ball," her dad, a base coach, advised. You need to pay attention so you know where it is while you're running bases. She nodded.  On the next run glancing about the field as she approached each base and then stopping and listening before going on. "Keep your eye on the ball!", we called from the stands. Then it was time for the fielding. In practice the coaches tried different variations and before long Middlest was neatly parked... in the outfield.  At the beginning she would stand staunchly, with her hands resting on her knees,  her cap set firmly, her glove at the ready.  After a few minutes passed she would be looking at the ground. She would be stooping and picking at grass, neatly disassembling little white clover flowers.. She would be staring, squinting hard at the sky. Keep your eye on the ball! we all would shout, the ball floating neatly over her shoulder while she peered in our direction. What? Me? The ball! The ball! her team would echo. As she whirled around, searching in every direction, the ball would be rolling toward the fence, usually with the 2cd baseman in pursuit. As they came up to the dugout,  the coach would tell her, Middy, you need to pay attention, ok? Middlest would nod happily, was it time for Rice Krispie Treats yet? Her team mates would get frustrated with her and join in the calls, Mid, Look! Get the ball! But she was a nice girl and these were nice girls too. They didn't harass her. The entire team just learned  to work around her.  With one exception. Somewhere along the way they realized she made a great catcher. No fear of the bat or ball coming toward her at all.  And she loved that she didn't have to run after the ball. It was always coming straight for her. So Yes. Its true. In ther field my child was...A Daisy Picker. A sure thing at bat but the rest of the time appeared to forget she was in the middle of the game. You need to pay attention, we would advise. Your team counts on you. "I hate the field she said. It's too hard. I can't keep up with what's going on. "Keep your eye on the ball", we said. For three years.

In School Middlest was a very good student. She breezed through first and second grade. She never seemed to have trouble. Well, except the teachers complaints that she always had her nose in a book. Often when she should have been watching the board she would be caught deep in the adventures Of Redwall. But, her teachers loved her reading and usually would patiently come to her desk and go over the assignment if necessary. Until 3rd Grade. About halfway through the year her very experienced veteran teacher approached me. Have you had Middlest's eyes checked recently? She did the school eye exam, I told her. She passed it. Well, she said, I think maybe you should take her for a real eye exam. I don't think she can see the board. Really? Wow! She never said anything about it. Her grades were always good. As we walked to the car I asked her, Mid, can you see the board ok? Yes, she replied. I can see it fine. Hmm. You need to pay better attention in class. Ms. Teacher thinks you can't see. I'm paying attention, she replied. Well. Just to be safe. I made the appointment.

And. My eight year old child was severely myopic. Near sighted. She could barely see past the length of her arm. She had probably been like that her whole life. We had missed the very subtle clues. She couldn't tell us because she had no idea that the world around her wasn't a muddled mess of fuzzy colors. I'll never forget the look on her face the day she reached out for her first shiny, purple wire frames and set them over her nose and ears and looked around the optometrists office. The word here is WONDER. She walked to the windows and peered out at the sun lit trees and cars going past with a smile of amazement. Like an alien just landing on the planet. In a way she was.

Want to talk about guilt? How on earth could that child be legally blind without glasses and I had no clue? I was a hyper vigilant mom. How did I miss this? Like I said, the signs were very subtle. She had managed to adjust to her surrounding so well over the years that she was functional on a high level.

Plus:
At school: She went to a very good preschool: She was advanced in some skills that helped her coast. Also blackboard use was limited until things became more complicated in third grade. I also believe she was so used to things appearing the way they did that she recognized them in their weird form.( Just a theory.) If she was struggling a teacher would help her personally. Up close.

Outdoors: Our street was unpaved at that time, so things like bike riding were minimal. At ball the pitching machine was very predictable. She could hear the ball leave the machine and focus in the right direction until it came within her view..at the exact moment she needed to swing.

Her personality:  Oblivious to her surroundings, to this day she still zones out and doesn't know what's going on regardless of how well she sees it ; ) Her mom was used to this and didn't question whether anything else was going on.

 Now the story could end with her becoming the most valuable player on her team. A ferocious fielder. A pitcher with a lethal arm and record outs. But. Over the years the other girls had progressed where she had been unable to. The truth is, Middlest is a Daisy Picker. It's her nature. She'd rather lay in the grass and watch bugs than stand in it waiting for a ball to come her way. By fifth grade she decided to play cello instead.  She can still be found with her nose in a book. She has become a talented artist. Still...I do have one picture that I love. My Mid at a game. She is coming off a base, her feet in motion. One knee raised in a solid pump forward. Underneath her batting helmet her face is raised with a joyful expression. Her eyes are bright behind the lenses of her purple glasses and looking outward at the field. Watchful. 

She is watching the ball.

So the moral to the story is:

Keep your eye on your kids. Or. Get their eyes checked regularly. However you like to take it : )


© 2012 All Rights Reserved by MOTPG

Now, Where Was I....

Oh. Yes. After harassing Bleeps department store I left on my trip.  Now that I returned last night and made a mad dash to the store for turkey and stuff,  alleviating  my anxiety that they would be out of those little white heat and serve rolls, and am under the influence of over a weeks worth of laundry, I can take a moment between cycles to catch up.

I left just at the moment of the full moon and so was not able to give my monthly report. However, being away did not stop the lunacy at all and I can now share Novembers events.

First, and simplest of all, the night before I left,

Biggest called.

And told me I have a new grandchild.

His name is Eugene. He is approximately 7 to 8 weeks old. We weren't home an hour before she was calling to see if she could bring him over. Apparently Eugene's Mama was carrying him across a road when a jerk in a truck almost hit her and she dropped Eugene and ran into the woods. A nice lady saw this and stopped to get him out of the road but Eugene's mama never came back so she scooped him up and the natural magnetism of the earth aided by the full moon brought her in the direction of Biggest.
Now Eugene has a new Mama.

We also had some teenage drama in the week before I left. The night before I left , a Thursday, was Homecoming week at Littlests' school. She and her boyfriend had mutually decided that wasn't their bag. However Lits' boyfriend has a female friend that Littlest just barely abides, because she doesn't trust her. So. This young lady kept lamenting the fact that she was not going to Homecoming so pitifully, and pathetically, and constantly that a few days before Homecoming Lits boyfriend took pity on her and volunteered to take her and sent Littlest a message letting her know and asking if since he was going anyway did she want to tag along too.

Yeah.

The sequence of reactions from both Littlests' friends and family went some thing like this:

What? Dump him. Can he really be that dense? He can't be that dense?

Yes. He. Can.

So she dumped. They both cried. Then he must have performed some kind of desperate gesture because within 24 hours He was not going to Homecoming and Thursday night he was hanging out at our house with Littlest,  watching movies. Wait...wait...this is the full moon part...During the course of the evening...

I Heard Her GIGGLE- I've been sworn to secrecy but that's why I'm anonymous.

Last of all. I may have mentioned Middlests' singing before. Mid has a full rich voice that could grace a mezzo soprano diva. And the pitch of....a toddler with a wiffle ball.  If she sings along with someone she does ok but otherwise it is something akin to a cat fight.  She was able to tune her instruments by ear with no problem. Maybe playing in bass clef all those years confused her brain. I bought the girl an Irish whistle on our trip and in less than 24 hours she has worked out,  Oh Danny Boy and part of the theme song to Lord of the Rings. I don't know what the disconnect is with her vocal cords but one of the things I love about her is that it doesn't stop her. She sings her heart out. It doesn't matter where either. She often sings while walking or riding her bike down the road. Which leads me to the phone call I received from her while I  was gone. It went like this.

Mom. I'm walking home from work and first that stray cat started following me again and I was walking along with him and was singing and was halfway thru the cut through neighborhood and three police cars suddenly came tearing up and stopped to question me because someone reported I was walking down the road threatening to kill myself.

What?! What did they say?

They said someone called and then they asked if I was alright and where I was coming from and where I was going and made me show them my ID.  I told them I was perfectly happy I was just going home and singing. Then they asked if that was my cat and I said no.

What on earth were you singing?

Nothing really. Just some Rancid ........

and The Hare Krishna Song.

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As for The SeaMonkey and I we had a wonderful time. It has been over two years since we went on a vacation and visited the mountains. And though we do get to travel for business and spend some time together we realized it had actually been ten years since we have been able to go on a vacation trip together. Just us. That was way overdue and though we missed our girls at certain landmarks it was nice We really needed it.


We drove to Virginia where there were still a few pockets of gorgeous fall color and then followed the Blue Ridge Parkway down to North Carolina and across to Tennessee where we played in The Smokies for several days. We had some lovely cold weather and I sat on my rock.

This is my rock.

And I could play with all the smaller rocks to my hearts content.





We had a couple days of really good rain and the rivers swelled and were raging. And then best of all, up in the mountains of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, It Snowed!  I know many of you live in places where the trees become bare and it snows tons so winter isn't a big deal but to people who don't get a serious winter it can be very exciting. That morning it snowed for four hours leaving about a 1/4 inch on the ground and getting drifts of maybe 1/2 inch! ; ) Snow does something to natural born Floridians and others from warmer climates. For four hours we played around in the snow and watched others do the same. All ages, young and old, acting silly, taking pictures, throwing snow, catching snow, dancing around in snow and just watching in wonder as it fell on us. It was as much fun as playing in it to drive past and watch a group of people with cameras and looks of pure delight on their faces jumping around in ecstasy and joy. We craned our necks to check as we passed. Yep. Florida tags : ) 

The next morning there were still a few pockets in the shaded places and I did what any good Southerner would do with a wealth of half inch of snow

Made the worlds smallest snowman!

I had my fall and winter all in one week and it was wonderful : )

I told The SeaMonkey I was going to have all the snow pictures blown up, paste them to the windows and have my own personal white Christmas. But even if it ends up being 80 I am feeling Refreshed and Blessed and Thankful beyond words. Bring on The Holidays! I'm ready.

 HAVE A HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

and if you're one of my friends from outside the US, have a Wonderful Week in general and eat some turkey anyway, just cause it's Awesome ; )



Then Sings My Soul. Those might be the words.

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

 

I Ain't Missin Pooh At All ; )

Middlest has been gone over a month. I have to say it has been strange but not as strange as I expected. You may wonder, "don't you miss her?"  I have to say, No. Not really.

In my everyday life of getting through the day I actually do not miss her at all. I hardly notice she's gone except that it's quieter and cleaner around here and that doesn't seem to be concerning me. I would say that we have made a smooth and seamless transition. Part of it may be that I am very good at removing troublesome thoughts and thinking of something else. ( As I have said before, Any resemblance to my Middle Daughter is purely a coincidence and means nothing ; ) Another part may be that I seldom miss my children much when I am not with them. In the 24 years I have been a parent I have never sent my kids away. They didn't go to summer camp. I never packed them off on a trip to grandparents who lived far away. We had a lot of togetherness in our family and even with the two whole trips my husband and I took alone, up until the past couple years, I think all the time I spent away from my girls would equal less than a month. So no. I don't really miss her presence all that much.

It's also true that she isn't far away and I can see her or call her as often as I would like. That makes it easier, I guess.  But I don't. I've seen her three times. I don't call her and check on her and see what she is up to and what's going on. (Biggest gives me reports) She needed to escape from mothering and do things on her own. I find it hard after so many years to break that pattern and when I talk to her it's habitual for things to slip out. Like,
 "How much money do you have left in your account?" And, "Why are you still dating that douche?"

So I remain silent and aloof. I do what I do every day with hardly a ripple of change disturbing my pattern.
The answer is no. On a day to day routine basis, I do not miss Middlest.

We are having a Nor' Easter where we live. The wind is kicking up a fuss and it has been Blustery and blowing like...well wind. Really wild, out of control,  gusty wind.

Middlest called.
She said, "I had to call and tell you this. Biggest is still asleep and I don't have anyone else to tell."
I braced myself. Oh Lord. What has happened. What is wrong.

Mid: I woke up this morning and I thought , "It's 'Windsday'! I feel like going outside and dancing around and shouting to everyone,  It's Windsday!  It's Windsday!".  Like from Pooh Bear.

Me: That's because it is 'Windsday'. I thought the same thing.

Mid: Oh Good. I thought it was just me.

And that. That is when I missed her.






© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Something's Missing...Happens When There Is A Screw Loose Somewhere

So. Middlest had her Wisdom teeth taken out. I always thought that meant just extracting some extra teeth but I'm starting to wonder.

 She no longer had coverage so we paid for it. It Was Very Expensive.  She came home and lay around on the couch and acted like she was dying and left messes wherever she roamed. Middlest is messy. Not just a little messy. I've given her a break about on my blog so far but she is Ridiculous messy. No threat or punishment has ever curbed it.

When she grew up a couple weeks ago she was told our house rules for adults. Keep your room clean. Pick up after yourself around the house.  We will let you ease into the next level. At our house if you choose to skip the extended childhood option and not continue your education, you are expected to take on all of your own living expenses. We told her to continue to keep up her end of the chores around here and we would pay for her phone for awhile and she didn't have to pay rent-YET, so that she could continue to save money. We live in biking distance of her job and she could do that till she had enough for a car. Just don't be a slob and we are all good.
 The day after her surgery she was lying around on the couch all day watching TV and dying behind a landfill on the coffee table. I didn't harass her because I knew she wasn't feeling great. Her pain pills kicked in and she decided she felt better. And her friend was having a party that night. So she was going to go. I mentioned that she was supposed to take it easy. She said she was going crazy and needed to get out. Ok. "If you have problems with healing you are on your own."

Later her dad came in and when he went to her room to tell her to pick up the empty pudding cup and spoon he found on the table in the entryway she was not there. Her room, however, was. And so was the two feet of crap thrown all over the floor and a collection of dirty glasses, etc, etc. When I told him she went to a party he went a little ballistic. Because you see, she was dying and couldn't clean up but she was up for a party. Not to mention, not following the dentists orders after we paid for it. So he gave her a call and said as much. He told her if she couldn't have the courtesy to take proper care of herself after we spent a fortune on her mouth to help her and couldn't even be bothered to pick up after herself she needed to move out.

And she said, 'fine' and he said, 'fine' and she said, 'fine' and he said 'fine' and then....

Biggest called.

She said, "What is going on here? I want to hear the whole story before I make up my mind!"

So I told her. And she said: "She can live with us if she wants but I told her if she wanted to we need to talk now and she started telling me she was at a party and didn't want to leave and I told her we would pick her up and would talk about it Now or Not At All.  So, she said that was fine and we are picking her up. I don't know if she realizes what I will expect but she will soon"
She told Mid:
You WILL pick up after yourself.
You WILL help with household cleaning.
You WILL scrub your room before you leave. You aren't leaving Mom and Dad with that mess.
You WILL NOT have anyone over after ten.
You WILL NOT have anyone in my house when we are not here.
You WILL learn to take the bus.
You WILL look for a second job because you don't make enough to get by.
You WILL contribute to groceries and be responsible for your own extras. And..
You WILL pay $100.00 a month in rent-to start.

"Or You Are Out. The End. No Excuses because I don't put up with any crap and I will throw you out!"

And Mid said, "ok"

?....????????????????

She came home the next day and cleaned the room. (Which is what we wanted to begin with) and packed her stuff and moved in with Biggest and DecentGuy.

So now she is paying rent to have the same rules she had here plus a few and be farther away from work.
Not to mention she has to live with Biggest who is an insane neatness freak and makes their Dad look like ...I don't know...a bunny?.... when it comes to enforcement. She also doesn't have cable tv or internet.

The SeaMonkey said,
  "I didn't mean she Had to move out. All she had to do was clean her room."
Littlest said,
 "Awesome! I don't have to look at her mess anymore and she won't eat all the food before I get any!"

I said.....ok......

Conversations with my daughters over the past week.

Biggest: I have an eight year old with the priviliges of an 18 year old living in my house.
             She really doesn't get it.
             Are you sure there isn't something wrong with her? (No)
             We put fresh batteries in our smoke alarms. (Good Thinking)   
             We were outside and I was giving her advice and she didn't hear any of it. She just sat there
              and stared at the moon.

Me: I told you so.

Middlest: I love it here! I can see dolphins.
               I painted my room green!
               I bought candles!
               We sat outside and watched the moon : )

Me:  Did you get a chance to come by today and use the computer like you wanted?

 Mid: No. Biggest made me stay here all day and clean.

Littlest:  Look! There is still a whole box of cereal!! Hey! I can watch whatever I want on TV!

Me:  Don't get too happy. Now we have no one else to focus on but you.

Lit: I give it a week, maybe two, until Biggest sends her back.


We shall see. Of course I really shouldn't be surprised. Afterall, I saw it coming.
Middlest moving out? No, not that............

                                                                                                                                                    © 2011 All Rights Reserved


Moon Music

(We seem to be starting a theme within a theme here)

For those of you that don't speak Byrne:

Watch out you might get what you're after
Cool babies strange but not a stranger
I'm an ordinary guy
Burning down the house

Hold tight wait till the party's over
Hold tight We're in for nasty weather
There has got to be a way
Burning down the house

Here's your ticket pack your bag: time for jumpin' overboard
The transportation is here
Close enough but not too far, Maybe you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire

All wet hey you might need a raincoat
Shakedown dreams walking in broad daylight
Three hun-dred six-ty five de-grees
Burning down the house

It was once upon a place sometimes I listen to myself
Gonna come in first place
People on their way to work baby what did you except
Gonna burst into flame

My house S'out of the ordinary
That's right Don't want to hurt nobody
Some things sure can sweep me off my feet
Burning down the house

No visible means of support and you have not seen nuthin' yet
Everything's stuck together
I don't know what you expect starring into the TV set
Fighting fire with fire

Burning down the house


Whoa.......Where did all these spoons in the silverware drawer come from.........?

UPDATE: 9:00 AM Mid just called me and said she was coming by today. She needed to pick up her bike and her Social Security card...oh....and have a bowl of cereal....

Please Pass the Nitroglycerin

This morning my husband got up earlier than me and left to work on one of our projects. I woke up a little later and did my usual cup of tea and check my blog and looked at my company bills. I did a little straightening up. Littlest was awake and I had promised to take her school shopping. It seemed strange to not be shopping for both of them and I thought I'd ask Mid to come along just for old times sake. About 8:30 and I popped into her room and called out, "Do you want to go with us today?" Nothing. She Was Not There. It was possible we had missed crossing paths so I yelled out her name. Nothing. I checked the porch. Nothing. I went back in her room. Her comforter was draped over her desk chair. The last place I saw her was at her desk last night around 10:30. Her bag was open on her bed. Pens and crumpled papers littered her sheets. This was not unusual. But her wallet was on the floor. I opened it. There was no ID and no money. That was unusual. I called up to Lit. Have you seen your sister? No. When did you see her last? Last night. Lit asks, "Is her bike here?"  Good question. I run out to the shed in my pajama's, certain that it would be gone and that she had undertaken some foolish journey in the middle of the night. Recently she dropped her MP3 player after work and had tried to ride up to look for it at 12:30 at night. On that occasion Littlest put her in a headlock and when she made a break for it she followed her out and locked her in the shed. Sometimes it's nice to have Littlest around because I don't lose much sleep. But Mid wasn't 18 yet when that happened. We don't have the power to tell her what to do but I do expect the respect of letting me know where she is and if she won't be home if she is living here. We were both puzzled. I start calling her phone. No answer. Someone had to have picked her up. But who? Dial- No answer. Sometimes she likes to wander outside at night. I have asked her not to because it is so secluded and random strangers have a habit of parking and partying at the end of the road. What if some creep grabbed her? Dial-No answer. What if that new guy she just met and barely knows and that I think is a Total Loser picked her up and has done something to her? Dial-No answer. What if she was hit by a car? Dial-No answer.What if she slipped out to a late party? Dial-no answer. I'll kill her! How could she be so stupid! Dial-No answer. But what if she got wasted and violated and murdered or killed in a car accident? Dial- No answer. Oh God, she's 18 now! I can't even report her missing for 24 hours! Dial-No answer. I don't want to call my husband because he is working on an important project and I don't want to get him all upset if she's just at a friends or something and didn't leave a note. I'll kill her! Dial-No answer. But I will have to tell him if I don't find her soon because something might have happened to her. Dial-No answer. "Lit, hack her FaceBook, see if there are any clues. I'm going to check our cell phone website and see what numbers she has contacted." Dial-No answer. My heart is racing a thousand miles an hour and my mind is racing between panic and enraged. I'm not sure which to pick. Dial-Answer. "Hello?"  Enraged, ok that's the one. I said a lot of Really Bad words within my inquiry into where the bleepity bleeping bleep she was. She Laughed. SHE WHAT? She bleepity bleeping thought it was bleeping FUNNY? She laughed again. I hear a GUY laughing too. Hello Space Station? That strange reading you just picked up was my blood pressure! Oh, you DO think it's funny?!

"Yes. Dads laughing too. We just came out to the car and I told him I have 12 missed phone calls from you. You were pissed. "

You think?


Apparently it occurred to my husband that he could use a hand on this job today and she is old enough to work for us now and she needed to make more money. So. She was working for us. That way I didn't have to be on site today. Wasn't that nice.  And they both forgot to tell me.

They were both bleepity bleeping A#$holes

It doesn't matter how old they are. A certain day may make you a legal adult but it doesn't make you any less someones child. At least to your mom. I'm in this for life. Right up until the moment they finally kill me.



© 2011 All Rights Reserved

And She Was.

You are of course the prettiest, sweetest, smartest, strongest baby on earth
 and we love you very much.

                                                                         The Middlest Baby Book, August 1993

My Moonbeam. Is. All. Grown. Up. When Middlest was very small she asked if she could sleep with the moon in her bed. Being nothing if not indulgent parents we set about to take care of that. I drew a template on poster board. Her dad bought wood and we traced the crescent moon and he sawed the piece. 1/2 inch pine. None of that flimsy pressed board for my baby. I bought glow in the dark paint and covered the piece thoroughly. You can always see the moon in Middlests room.
My Mid
How appropriate that your moment of rising to adulthood coincides with the rising of a spotlight. The moon full of itself and glowing in all her glory just for You. I am sure of it. The gentle light reflects your gentle nature. Why just look at these definitions I found for 'mooning' in my editor dictionary.

 Behave or move in a listless and aimless manner
     lying in bed eating candy, mooning around
Act in a dreamily infatuated manner
     
of course we won't count that other definition of mooning because I know you would never do that. Well..at least not since you turned 5...and only once in a McDonalds play maze...that I know of...but anyway.....

Happy 18th Birthday to My Middlest- My Moonlight. Because my Moonshine don't sound quite right ; )

 I know you will light your own path. I know that when you seem like you have nothing left at all that you will regenerate and come back again. I have seen it over and over.  Now it is time to let go. You can't really hold the moon on earth can you? It has to rise and fall on it's own. It has to grow in its own time and if it loses some of itself along the way there is nothing to prevent it. It has its own magic and always returns to the fullness of being. It always shines through the darkness. And it's very likely that it is Swiss Cheese. Or can live on Swiss Cheese...or something like that.....
I LOVE YOU. And thank you for deciding to put put that damn tattoo where I will never see it unless you're in a bikini and I'm glad that at least it's that beautiful orca you drew and not a skull or something. ok.? still hope you chicken out....

There comes a time when these things are out of our hands. These moments are starting to rush up on me. This is now out of my control. Breathe deep. It's time to step back and just watch her rise on her own.

 She can't be Grounded anymore.


© 2011 All Rights Reserved 


Twisting the meaning just a bit to suit ourselves but..


Middlest Moon Music.

What's That Chiming Sound? I'm Busy Blogging....

I can be really bad about making appointments. I avoid the phone as much as possible and usually schedule  a certain amount of calls I can handle in a week. Nuts, I know, what else is new?

Anyway, about a  month  a couple weeks ago Middlest was complaining that her gums hurt and she thought a wisdom tooth was coming in. Ok. I need to call a dentist. Except the next day she said, "oh it's not hurting. I guess it went away." Ok. No rush. Then it came back. Then it went away.....Then it grew in. And was fine. Then the other one started so I know she needs to have them checked out. It is summer now.

Summer is a good time to get that stuff done and they were due for a check up anyway.
I would have to make the appointment. I'd ask, how is that tooth doing? "It's not bothering me right now." So no emergency but I will get to it.

 I have six email accounts, you know, one for each personality, and the one for my company  uses Outlook which has a nifty little calendar with reminders that chime and pop up a set amount ahead of time. So I set it to remind me to make the appointment. The problem is my regular schedule has not been regular and has been packed. Often with things that I knew were coming up but didn't have a lot of advance notice on exact dates so it was hard to know what I was doing when. Which makes it hard to schedule appointments.

The reminder also has a snooze feature so that when it pops up you can reset it to remind you again later. Yeah.

 So. I also have this nifty little sticky note feature on my desk top. I love it. I use it for things that are VERY IMPORTANT and  Absolutely Cannot Be Forgot or Put Off. Knowing I had to go out of town last week I remembered to leave myself this note for important things that had to be finished the day I came  back.


But yesterday when I came back it said this:

Which appears to be a combo of German and Reggae. I don't know.

Then....

and lastly

Ok. I Get The Message! Or most of it....anyway...

Then this morning I found some new ones.


Of course. Yesterday she 'is almost 18' and can make her own decisions. Today I'm Mommy.

This does prove that my theory about what this young lady will try to do to make a living
is correct. I quote myself from This Post last fall,

"Should she skip college and set up shop on a street corner? Will she have to hold up a sign saying,
Will paint you for food?"


Yes. It's true. She will be standing on a street corner selling her art.

She is Incredibly Undeniably Awesome. Truly. And I Raised Her!

I will collect my Mother of the Year Award right after I push the snooze button on this reminder make this telephone call.


© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Pomp and Happy Dance !!!!

OMG!

The Sky Didn’t Fall

The Earth Is

Still On Its Axis

The Globe

Did Not Burn Up

And We Did Not  Perish

In A Hail Of Meteors

..This Year

BUT

We Dazedly Announce The

High School Graduation

Of

Middlest Grounded

Some Say 2012

Will Bring Armageddon

So We Are Gonna Party

Like

The Class

Of

2011

When I began this blog in the Fall of 09, one of the reasons was that this child was giving me a fit. She is super intelligent and talented but easily distracted.
However as she always does...she came thru in the end!

I Am Hugely Proud of Her and I am So Excited to share this news! I have been about to pop keeping it to myself because I have known for about a week that it was going to happen. That's just it though. I didn't know for sure until early last week.  Final grades didn't come in until 5/27 . It has been touch and go all along but for most of this year we had a smooth flight. Until the last quarter when a series of personal incidents that I could swear were a curse meant to flatten this kid, caused a serious crash and burn. At the last possible minute her math teacher found a few points he misplaced in his stapler drawer or something and She Made It!


I would like to Thank Everyone who has come here and read and listened to me whine and complain and worry and offered Support and Good Advice to both myself and Middlest in our journey to get her through high school.

We also absolutely have to Thank GOD!

And Special Thanks to my Dear friend Elissa , who apparently has a direct line to him ; )

 If you are new here, as may be apparent, This is a miraculous cause for a Major Celebration...so break out your confetti and join in!

Gongratulations to My One and Only Middlest!

WE LUV U!!!!!!

and to paraphrase the Great Dr. Seuss.....



Out there things can happen

and frequently do

to people as brainy and

footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,

don't worry. Don't stew.

"Just go right along. You'll

start happening too."


So be sure when you step.

Step with care and great tact

and remember that "Life's a Great Balancing Act."

Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.

And never mix up your right foot with your left.



particularly when you are walking up to get that diploma....

© 2011 All Rights Reserved

The Little Girl and The Sea

When she was two weeks old her family were at her grandparents swimming pool allowing her older sister some time for fun after the first days of adjustment for the recently blooming family. Wearing a tiny pink sun suit and bonnet she rested in the shade of the afternoon within her mothers arms. Her father lifted her up and approached the pool. "what are you doing,"  her mother asked? Her father answered in a playful voice, "going swimming." Her mothers concern followed them, She can't get wet, her belly button isn't healed." The father, young but experienced, rolled his eyes," it will be fine." He dipped her pea sized toes into the water. Her mother waited for a wail to arise. But, she merely wiggled her feet. "Look Mommy. I'm swimming", her father voiced for her." Swimming, I'm swimming" gently rocking her to and fro in the pool. Floating her in his palms being cautious not to let the water rise as far as her navel. She merely rested against her fathers stomach while the warmed water caressed her legs. Perfectly content and relaxed she swam, in two foot laps across the pool.

When she was a few months old her parents, also to entertain her sister, went to a matinee at a nearby theatre that showed non new release movies at a discount. They went to see Free Willy. Her mother thought she might sleep in the darkened theatre. She sat upright in her mothers lap, quiet and still and watched the giant screen without complaint. No restlessness. She watched.

When she was two she was playing busily as her mother watched. She repeatedly opened her laundry basket lid. Peering inside she would whisper a string of words her mother could not understand and then close the lid moving on to run about the room and then return to repeat the process. She would carry toys to the basket and put them in, mumbling in a conspiratorial manner. "who are you talking to" her mother asked, "what's in there?"  She looked up and in a serious and matter of fact voice answered, "It's a whale." "A whale", her mom laughed? Yes, it's a big whale, the girl answered, He lives in the basket. It's MY whale. The game continued. Her mother told her father about the whale in the basket when he came home and how cute it was. Where did she get the idea that a whale was in the basket, they laughed? The whale stayed. For Christmas a couple months later they found a small stuffed Orca Whale and made sure Santa had it in his bag. Maybe it would be nice, they thought to have a whale that could travel along outside the basket. The little girl, loved her whale.

By chance it was during a time when Orca's just happened to be in vogue. Her mother was ecstatic that summer to find water wings shaped liked Orca's. The little girl loved them but she didn't need them for long. She had no fear of the element. She swam. She dove in and learned quickly. Once in she decried getting out. Once out she wished to be back in. The ocean massive and churning was no deterrent.  She stood with strong legs against the pounding of the waves. She would dive beneath. Ride them to shore. Catch tiny fish in a bucket and play for hours. She leaned to surf at four. She swam in the pool for hours. Learning to clamp her legs together pushing  hard to swim strong and fast, just like a whale. She spent endless summer days being a whale. When on dry land she drew and painted pictures. The majority of the time she drew Orca's. Countless sheets of paper covered with cavorting whales in various poses and even colors. All over her bedroom walls. On her lined notebook paper from school instead of her work. Shoved into folders and crammed into books.

Her parents indulged her desires. Stuffed Orcas. Miniature Sea World Sets complete with an orca family. Books, movies, posters. Even an Orca Trainer Barbie. The piece de resistance a four foot long stuffed Orca that took up most of her bed. The floor of her room was littered with small rubber replica's of ocean mammals of all kinds.  Her first day of school in first grade she sported an orca backpack and lunch box. Her mother even threw a themed Birthday party and hand drew a Pin the Fluke on the Orca game. As she grew her shelves were populated with sea life and Wyland collectibles. The stuffed Orca Pod grew to an astounding size.

As she grew she had the opportunity one summer to share the water with rehabilitated porpoise at the Dolphin Research Center in the Florida Keys and swam with manatees in the wild. Kept newspapers clippings of Keiko when Free Willy was actually freed. The closest she could get to a living Orca was at Seaworld but it was done. Her skin shone burnished bronze through the summers. Her brown hair would be gilded gold. She kayaked the ocean and the springs. She surfed and snorkeled. She slept surrounded by sea creatures, her room an oxygen filled aquarium though if she could have lived and breathed under the sea she would have done so. She spent so much time submerged they wouldn't have been at all surprised to see her begin to evolve. Her limbs streamlined to fins. Her skin shining sleek and rubbery. Her face when she broke through the water for air was serene. Her eyes unfocused on the earth around her. She was a creature of the sea and we only curious objects she passed in her travels to better feeding grounds. If you held your head under the water you could hear the call of the whales seeking each other out in the tiny ocean of our backyard pool.

She knew the names and habits of countless residents of the underwater world. She would, she said, be a Marine Biologist. If her dream came true she would live in a tiny house on the coast in Washington State someday or among the islands of the Pacific NorthWest. She would spend her days on a boat listening, photographing and keeping records of her people. Her pod was bound to be there and she could join them. Peer from the windows of her land bound home and return their call. Be a part of their life as they were so much of hers. This dream grew for ten years.

And then one day The Girl Forgot.

Her world became populated with music and friends. She took up cello and string bass. She began to write. She began to draw more seriously and was found to be a fine artist. But not whales. Never whales. One day her mother found several bags in the hall closet and looking in found it was a burial ground. A tomb of orca's and porpoise. Going into the girls room she found it nearly bare of sea life. Stacks of books and music and art supplies. Her eye reached to the highest corner of the room in the farthest niche of a shelf and saw, only Keiko. A triumphant find years ago with his stuffed body sporting his flopped over dorsal. Lowering her eyes she found just a small group of tiny trinkets left. Still a huge fan of Wyland an underwater sculpture survives and a snow globe sporting a jumping Orca, a gift from her Grandparents, are lost amid the clutter of many interests.

The little girl no longer swam. She refused the pool saying she was tired of swimming. She shed her beach girl persona. Would no longer surf or snorkel. She said she didn't like the sand. Didn't wish to be in the sun. She was an artist. The artistic should lounge in cool darkened rooms thinking deep thoughts and contemplating melancholy moments. Her abilities backed up this choice. She hates science. The first three years of  high school she systematically refused to do well in it. She botched Biology. Spaced out in Earth Space. Refused to mix with Chemistry.
And then. During her senior year she had two choices. One of them, Physics, sounded like a lot of work  to her. But, there was an alternative. Marine Science. Easy, she could blow through that with ease. And she did.

And in the process she remembered.


She began to check books out of the library again. Refinding old scientific hero's and discovering  some new ones. For the first time in years she came home from school buzzing with something she learned in an academic class. She tells her mother about giant octopus and evil squid. About the habits of puffer fish and the life of the mollusk. Somehow the mind that rejected her past dreams awoke. The class took a field trip to Seaworld and the girl was excited for weeks. When they arrived she strode to the Orca Tanks ready to plant herself there and absorb. The exhibit was closed. And the girl cried. Embarrassing herself but unable to stop she sobbed. She finally consoled herself by buying the biggest stuffed Orca she could find and hanging out with the Beluga's for awhile.

Now her thoughts are topsy turvy as though being pummeled by the waves. It would be a harder road because of the knowlege she denied when she lost her way. She would have to work very hard to put herself into just the starting place for this dream that a Little Girl had. She will be an artist there is no question of that but perhaps she will do more. Perhaps she can combine the two. She always did as a child. Why not now? I tell the girl that it is never too late to at least try for a dream. Whatever direction she ultimately takes there is one thing for sure.

The Young Woman Has Returned to The Sea.



This image is under Copywrite. Any use of this image without direct permission of the copywrite owner is prohibited 
and may result in disembowelment by Mother Lioness.





© 2011 All Rights Reserved

Boys In My House

With the exception of the SeaMonkey..and some pets, we are a female household. This leads to a certain comfort zone that it can be hard to lift out of. When you have spent years wandering about in your pajama's and skipping that bra as long as you are in the house it can be disconcerting to have the sudden appearance of BOYS at the door. At least if you are modest like Littlest and me. Middlest is an exception to this. She flings bras about the house like Marti Gras beads, so there is usually one at hand in case of an emergency. On the couch. On the kitchen counter. Sometimes the pantry...

With Biggest married and Mid dating we had to come up with a system to deal with this inconvenience which consists of looking out the window when we hear a knock and then all sprinting to our rooms to change. Biggest knows to call first if they are coming by so I can get dressed. We are all pretty much stay in jammies until we have to leave the house kind of people.
However we do not feel comfortable sharing our ...jammi-ness with others.

Truly the fact is that we don't know what to do with boys. We don't know what to say to them. We don't know how to entertain them. We don't know what to feed them. And of course with each new one we have to learn to 'read' them. We first met my son in law 9 years ago and I'm just getting used to him. We are not very comfortable when it comes to company in general. We never rarely invite people over. We all feel like we have to be on our toes, even if the girl's friends are just over hanging out , because we are all such  introverted socially retarded dorks gracious hosts. Honestly, the SeaMonkey and I often just say hello to their friends and then go hide.

Over the years many boys have come by. They are rated in a system. Littlest used to rate them by whether they would play Lego's. Now it's whether they make fun of Anime when she turns it on TV and how they respond to her cheerful greeting of

"Why are there people here?"

I ask the girls to do something, say carry groceries upstairs. I see if the boys help without being asked. Most of them don't. My husband tends to be stand-offish at first and the girls say he is scary. The boys tend to avoid him...if he isn't already avoiding them.  If it looks like they will be around for awhile we drag out the scrapbooks and see how they act. Are they interested and think the girls elementary school memories are sweet? Or do they act like this is the stupidest thing they ever saw? This is one of Littlest's favorite tests as well.

Mid has been dating someone new for about a month. So it was scrapbook time but....he doesn't need to look. He was there. All through elementary school. He's actually in the book. But do you know what? He looked. At every page. Carefully.

He's carried groceries. Twice.

 I have to admit I found it hilarious recently that he stopped by one evening without notice and caught Mid, not just in pajama's but...no makeup-her glasses-something kind of sideways happening with her pony tail-a very old paint splattered t shirt-and bright green pajama bottoms with Mountain Dew logo's on them. He acted like nothing was unusual at all. But when she ran to her room for a quick change I glanced at him and he was smiling....like it was the cutest thing he's ever seen.

The other day he came by and Littlest had Anime on. She greeted him with a grumble and her best evil death glare as he sat down. And stayed there. He watched and made no negative comment. We were getting some Krystal burgers and Littlest had said she didn't want any. Then after we brought them home she changed her mind. She had one and then there was only one left and she went for it. I stopped her saying that she should offer it to our guest first since we didn't order with her in mind. She held it out to him, I'm sure thinking he would say, "no, you can have it". And then..... he ate it ; )

My husband and I are early people. Most nights 8PM we are in our bed reading and watching tv. Not ready for sleep but ready to relax and the girls are welcome to hang with us if they wish or not. Last Friday night before we left town The SeaMonkey and I were lounging about in bed. In our jammies. Mid's boyfriend had a jazz band performance and she was home. She came in and asked if it would be ok to go out when he was done. I said, sure, as long as she was home on time.

At 9:30 I heard Mid call "Mom" and she came to the door. I figured she was letting me know she was leaving.
She said "Um"...and then another head appeared behind her.

My husband and I sat frozen in bed in our jammies not sure what to do and trying to act natural. I had already done a panicked check to make sure the blanket was pulled up enough to modestly cover the thick green hooded chenille sweater I was wearing over my jammies because I was in between hot flashes. The young man hung back for just a moment before he walked on in to the middle of the bedroom and addressed my husband:

"Hey I have my trombone in the car. I was wondering if you wanted to try it?"

My husband said something like "thanks, but it's been a long time. The boy said something about having a certain kind of mouth piece and then hopefully,

"I have my Jazz music with me too? Are you sure?"

My husband begged off politely. But, you see, my husband used to play trombone and he loves Jazz.
The rest of us do not love jazz. I think the boy was hoping to play for us and maybe impress the SeaMonkey. I guess we could have had him get it and play a concert for us in our room but....no...too weird even for us. The kids wandered out of the room and I turned to my husband and said,


"Well, that was different."

It was more than different,  it was The Most Blatant Effort from one of their boyfriends that I have Ever Seen.

Later I told Mid to make sure he knew we would love to hear him play soon. Maybe just with more warning.

Because

We Kinda Like Him.


Moon Music




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