The Burp Rag Chronicles

In All Seriousness

Imagine, if you will, a calm, peaceful family enjoying lunch on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Everyone is laughing gaily at discussions, jokes and funny faces.

See is talking to Daddy about the importance of nuclear fusion in the suns output of solar energy when Ess interrupts, "See! See...! What do you get when..."

See holds her splayed-finger hand in a "talk to the hand" motion and replies, "Ess... I busy."

It took Daddy and I a moment to realize what she said. What 25 month old says this stuff???

The Eye of the Tiger

So, yes. I have gained some of my lost weight back. After having See I just can't seem to shake it. Not to mention the stress I have been under at school, losing my dad, along with the trivial things everyone endures... go, me.

So I've decided to make some changes. I joined Weight Watchers and have been working out at the YMCA more religiously. I started doing one of those brutal Les Mills Body Combat classes (oh, sweet baby Jesus I just want to during them!) because my thinking is that the movement-rich classes will help get me on my way to my goal. It's not the same thing over and over, and there is constant, and I mean CONSTANT movement. Here is a (crappy) video of a small segment. 

Now, I realize you watch that video and if you know me, you are laughing your ass off. That's okay, it's ridiculously funny. No, I take that back. There are mirrors lining the entire room that the class is in, so it's actually quite sad. I bet you have never seen a bag of turkey gravy randomly kicking around and periodically jogging. Put a wig on top and some Asics and viola! Yeah, it's not pretty I'm afraid.

The first time I went to class, I was kinda scared because I didn't know what to expect. I knew it would be hard because... well... I'm fat. But I had no idea HOW hard. I really thought I would be better prepped as when I go on the elliptical, my routine is 50-60 minutes long. Yay, the class is 55 minutes! Awesomesauce!

No! There is nothing awesomesauce about the class except for the exhiliaration you feel when it's over and you can go melt into a puddle in the locker room. The instructor was about 10 feet tall and she was practically see-through she was so thin. But she was very nice, and helpful to the couple of newbies in the class. She was pleasant to hear, inasmuch as you feel anything is pleasant during class. My first class was on a Wednesday, and by the next class, Friday, I was still too sore to do it again.

Friday I opted for the less strenuous elliptical workout. It went well, I got my 60 minutes in and then was still able to go to the zoo Saturday with the family and not feeble around.

I went back to BodyCombat this morning. Different instructor (the previous one only teaches the class W/F) and I was not as fond of her. She seemed nice but one of those crazy energetic people that you just kind of want to drop-kick. ;) So I am thinking about doing cycling on Mondays instead, since I left her BC class with a headache from her shrieking and yelling. 

But the cycle class is at EIGHT IN THE MORNING. Guh, we'll have to see. That's really early. Maybe I'll stick with Zumba the class right before BC. I mean, I am up and awake at 8:00 a.m., but I am not coherent enough to follow directions other than "pour coffee into cup," much less get dressed and go to the Y.

But today I was reading some inspirational stories on the Weight Watchers website. Something about Katharine's story really spoke to me, but not in that weird creepy ghostly sort of way.

I wasn’t overweight before graduate school, but I gained weight while pursuing my PhD.

I lived my life “above the neck," focusing on others and my intellectual work, first as a graduate student and then as a psychologist working with people affected by HIV. I was proud of my accomplishments and loved my work, but I was deeply unhappy with my body. I ate to cope with the occasional challenges of being a young faculty member, to participate in family rituals (I’m a Southerner, after all), and to cope with the grief of losing clients who died from their HIV disease.

Food is not the answer
I got in shape, including training for and participating in an Avon three-day 60-mile walk for breast cancer in 2002, and walking the Honolulu Marathon in 2004. But I didn’t change my diet, and so I remained heavy, with a BMI in the “obese" range and with mildly elevated cholesterol. Then in January 2007, my dad, who was a huge part of helping me become a smart and independent woman, was diagnosed with advanced colon cancer. The anger and stress I felt were overwhelming. One day while he was in hospice care and I knew we were going to lose him, I was so upset I went out for pizza. As I sat eating the pizza in a daze, I realized that I couldn’t make this go away with food. My dad was going to die whether I ate pizza or not. Dad fought courageously, but died in July 2007. I tried to keep my head up, thanks to the support of many wonderful friends, but the next few months were extremely hard, and I ate to cope with my grief.

Then, I had an important realization. I knew that I could best honor dad by making the right choices for my own health, so I recommitted to Weight Watchers Online and started following the POINTS® Weight-Loss System (I had been a subscriber before but hadn’t stuck with it). I also started a running program, began lifting weights and doing crunches and push-ups, and most importantly stayed with the plan. I kept track of everything I ate using the online POINTS Tracker, and ate as many fruits and vegetables as possible during the day. I spent a lot of time on the Message Boards and made new friends who were invaluable encouragers along the way.

Perfectionist no more
I had difficulties along the way. The hardest part was learning to let go of my perfectionist nature. I needed to learn not to get angry with myself if I went off-plan for a week, to simply pick right up where I left off. I had to learn to set limits and stick to them and find balance. I further learned to be grateful for the food I ate. Taking time to appreciate all of the effort that goes into making a meal made me able to slow down when I was eating it.

Today, my BMI is normal, my blood work is normal, and my resting heart rate and blood pressure put me in an "athletic" classification. Now, in my role as an associate dean in a graduate college of public health, I feel I am a much better example of good health for everyone with whom I work and live. I am studying to become certified as a personal trainer, and plan to use my training as a psychologist, my experience with Weight Watchers, and my knowledge about fitness training to become a fitness and life coach for others who are wanting to improve their fitness and must work through body image and emotional issues along the way. I am stronger, happier, more energetic, and am sure that I am on my way to my best decade so far.

I am an emotional and a social eater. I will do great on my own for a little while, then go out with friends where I blow it. Or something stressful comes up and I blow it. I am trying not to put myself in the positions where I am "at risk" to blow it.

I actually am looking to run. No, really. I'll wait until you stop laughing.

Done? Cool.

So I have set a personal goal for myself to run the Rock N' Roll San Antonio Marathon (& Half... that "half" is pretty important!!) in November. I'd like to shoot for the full marathon, but I plan on the half for now. I've never done anything like that in my entire life. I've never been a runner - ask anyone who went to school with me. Or knows me now. Or has heard of me.

Besides that, it benefits the Susan G. Komen Foundation. I have boobs, I can back any sort of support for them. ;)

So, that is where I am at right now. Love it or leave it, I've got to work on me. :)

A Morning With Ess

6:05 AM - Parental alarm rings to start day. Snooze button hit.

6:15 AM - Alarm rings again. Think about hitting it again. Get up and shuffle to bathroom to potty and brush dragon breath away.

6:18 AM - Start initial round of Operation Child Wakeup, which is met by slight stirrings and a small groan.

6:19 AM - Start Elixir of Life brewing. Because hoooooo boy, gonna need it.

6:20 AM - Decide if a lunch will be packed or if school lunch will be purchased.

6:21 AM - Round 2 of Operation Child Wakeup, which is met by rolling over and mumbling something about cereal. When asked what kind, "Mmmarrgghhfruityroundonesmmmmgggg," is the reply.

6:22 AM - Wash travel coffee mugs and make Jay's so he can go to work. Unlike the child, he is up and getting dressed for the day.

6:23 AM - Fetch child from her bed and seat her, sleeping, at the kitchen table with bowl of "fruityroundones" and orange juice. Decide that lunch will be purchased at the school.

6:24:09 AM - Pack healthy snack, get chastised for not including cheese-and-crackers as well as apple.

6:24:48 AM - No, not THOSE cheese-and-crackers. The ones with the little red knife-stick-thing.

6:25:10 AM - "Mom, did you know that I read my babies FOUR stories last night? They were AWESOME yesterday and they earned it. Then, I read myself a story, because I was also AWESOME and I earned it."

6:25:25 AM - "Wow, that's great honey. Eat your cereal."

6:25:27 AM - "Do you know what sound two O's make, Mom? They make the 'oooooooh' sound. But sometimes they make the 'uuhh' sound. If there is a silent E at the end, it makes the 'uuhh' sound. I don't really like words that have the 'uuhh' sound."

6:25:38 AM - "Me either. Eat your cereal."

6:25:42 AM - "Mom, yesterday I had fun at Burger King playing in the playplace. I am going to be SO GOOD this week and earn all my tickets so I can go somewhere else fun this weekend! I'm going to get all stickers at school, too! Miss G is going to be so proud of me! And you and Daddy, too. Because..."

6:26:01 AM - "EAT.YOUR.CEREAL. Please." Smile warmly at child.

6:26:03 AM - Child stares at parent as if to say, "Why, Mother, do you want to squelch my creativity?" Child takes a bite of cereal.

6:26:12 AM - After three crunches of cereal, child proceeds, with cereal in her mouth. "...because you guys want me to be good and listen to directions. Except I don't always do that and sometimes when Ella talks to me in class I talk back to her and then we both get in trouble because Miss G..."

6:26:21 AM - Mommy repeatedly bangs head on kitchen island.

6:28 AM - Ess knocks cup of orange juice over. Shuffles off to bathroom to clean up.

6:30 AM - Check on child, who has not yet come out of the bathroom. She is making faces at herself in the mirror and has not yet washed up from orange juice incident. Urge child to get a move on.

6:32 AM - Child emerges from bathroom. "Mommy, I had to poop which is why I took so long. Did you know that everyone poops? Even birds! And dogs. Sometimes there is dog poop in the grass when we go check the mail and it's really gross. I wish people would pick up their dog poops so that kids can play in the grass and not get poop on their shoes."

6:33 AM - It's way too early for poop talk. Tell child to go get dressed for school, clothes are on the couch. "I wanted to wear my RED shirt, mom! The one with the dog on it!!" Fetch red shirt.

6:34 AM - "Am I bringing lunch or buying it?" Buying it. "But Lauren is bringing lunch today and I told her I would, too!!" Take a deep breath and head over to kitchen and get bologna sandwich parts going. "Awww, Mom! Can't I have PBJ??" Another deep breath, count to ten, put bologna away and get jelly out of refrigerator.

6:36 AM - Child runs into kitchen with no pajamas on, but no clothing either. "Mom! I just saw the coolest thing! I can wiggle my big toe on its own without wiggling the other ones! Look!! I'm going to go show Dad!!"

6:36:45 AM - Bite tongue because "they are only this age once."

6:41 AM - Finally, child is dressed. Let's go brush your hair.

6:43 AM - Try to calm child down from crying jag because a knot was in her hair and it was accidentally not brushed gently enough. Try NOT to wake baby sister up, as bathroom shares a wall with nursery.

6:45 AM - Tell child to work on chore cards before school. The first chore is to make her bed.

6:52 AM - Check on her because there has been no peep from her. She is on the floor of her bedroom, brushing her stuffed cat, bed still unmade. "Mom, Tabby was crying because I left him in here by himself. Now I am trying to brush his fur. Will you take care of him while I am at school?" Of course. "I'll write down a list of instructions for you so that..." MAKE. YOUR. BED. Please. Smile warmly at child.

6:55 AM - Bed is made. Ask child to work on next chore. Brush teeth!

6:58 AM - Check on child. She is in the bath room with toothbrush, no toothpaste on it, using toothbrush as a microphone and singing "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" like a rock star. Starts putting toothpaste on brush as soon as she sees I am peeking in the bathroom.

7:00 AM - "Mom, I got toothpaste on my shirt." Change shirts to original shirt chosen before the red one with the dog on it.

7:01 AM - Ask child to get shoes on for school. "Can I wear my sparkly twinkly ones?" No, your teacher has asked us to not have you wear those to class because they distract everyone. "Aww, man! Okay, I'll wear these bright green ones! Grandma Ess got me these for Christmas, and I love them. They have so many bright colors. Mom, do you know what the upside-down V is for? It's... it's for.... it's for when you.... it's for when you forget to.... it's for when you forget to put a word in.... it's for when you forget to put a word in a sentence and you put that there and put the word you forgot on top of that so people know you forgot it." Close eyes and count to twenty.

7:03 AM - "Hahahahahahaha, Mom!!! I forgot to put socks on!! Tee-heeee!!" Grip coffee travel mug and consider pouring rum in it.

7:04 AM - "Mom! Where are my socks with toes??" Keep it down, I don't want to wake your sister up. They are all dirty, I will wash them today. "Okay, I'll wear these other socks. Look!! It has a hole in it!! Teee-heeeeeee!!!" Grab holey sock and get a pair out for child to put on. Usher child to front door to get shoes on. Again.

7:08 AM - "Whoops!! I meant to put on my bright green shoes, not these ones with the hearts on them! I'll change them..." NO. The heart ones are fine. "Okay!" Get your coat on. "Which one?" "The big one, it's cold outside. "Can I wear my gloves, too?" No, you and your sister play with them and now I can't find one of them. "Aww, can you buy me another pair?? It's cold outside!" 

7:12AM - Sign school folder and pack it in child's backpack. "Don't forget that this week is pizza week, Mom! We need to order pizza on Wednesday so that my school can get money for stuff like books and soccer balls!" Okay, thanks for telling me. "Our soccer balls at school are old and worn down. Lots of kids like to play with them and one time, I kicked the ball and it went WOOOOOSSSHHHHHH all the way to the other side of the playground!!! It was crazy!!" Fantastic, let's go get Daddy, it's time to go.

7:16 AM - Kiss Daddy and child, send them to work and school, respectively. Breathe a sigh of relief and exhaustion. Look at sink of dishes, head back to bed.

7:19 AM - Lie down, get comfortable, start to doze.

7:21 AM - "MOMMMMMYYY!! I want TOAST!!!" rings over the baby monitor.

The Lies

As far back as I can remember, I've told myself lies. Lots and lots of lies. So many, in fact, that I'd venture to say it's pretty pathological.

Every year I make New Year's Resolutions, which by January 18th are referred to as New Year's Blatant Lies.

We all know that we won't follow through with these rules. People are not typically okay with change, especially change of a monumental magnitude that warrants making everyone aware of your intent to change what you've spent 30-something years NOT doing. 

So I am going to set the bar low enough that even I can accomplish these "resolutions/lies." Generally, there is nothing different than we did all last year. I figure this way if something comes up and I don't follow the rules to the tee, my odds of being pretty close with meeting my goals isn't completely out of reach.

1. Practice winning lottery.
2. Finish all the laundry in ONE day, folding/putting away included.
3. Go to bed before midnight on school nights.
4. Not catch the plague.
5. Avoid being caught in a collapsed mine.

I really think all of these are reasonable goals, with the exception of #2. I really hate folding and putting away laundry.

Macabre Theatre

I have decided that 2010 can just suck a rotten egg. Bar none, the year has got to be the worst in creation. And every single time I think it can't get any worse karma swoops in and lays a giant, steaming white blob of guano on my shoulder.

Saturday was fairly uneventful but Sunday is when the law was laid down. It started out okay, with the delivery of my new sectional couch - which I *love* thankyousomuchforasking. Then we deemed it The Day to Eat Lunch at a Restaurant afternoon, followed by a visit to a local duck pond so the girls could have some fun. :)

Let me start the "restaurant" segment with deciding where we wanted to go. This is a constant banter back and forth between Jay and me, with periodic interjections by Ess. 

Me: "What do you want to eat?"

Jay: "Mmm, what do you want?"

Ess: "I want... I want...... um, I want....." *looking around* "....um, I want... Mom, I thiiiiink I want...."

Me: "How about McAlister's Deli?"

Jay: "Mmm, we haven't been there in a long time. Sounds good!"

Ess: "...McDonald's!!"

(both Jay and I grimace)

Me: "Oooh, how about Chili's? We haven't been there in a while, and I liked their chicken crispy strip things."

Jay: "Okay, sure."

(record screech)

Right here, that "how about Chili's" bit was just about the stupidest thing I had said all day. 

So we walk in, and there is no wait. Yay! We get seated at a table that is mildly sloped so all the kiddie crayons keep rolling off when the girls put one down to use the other one. Not that the Rolling Crayon Phenomenon is unfamiliar to any parent, but we certainly don't need help from a slanty stable.

So Waitress comes up, takes our drink order. It takes about 10 minutes to get our drinks, which someone else brings over. Then another 10 minutes to take our order, which included an appetizer chips n' dip. Ten more minutes and she comes by the table and asks, "Oh, no one brought your chips?" Yes, they did. And we were so hungry we also at the bowl and paper liner. The kids are hungry and fidgety and irritable in general. Then Jay tells me the church website we help maintain has been hacked.

AWESOME.

I really do not understand this. They take over the front page, put their silly "we hate Israel" banner showing the red crescent moon and a gun. How ridiculous is that? As if one of our parishoners will see that and think, "Oh, golly gee whiz! I forgot that 'becoming militant islamist' was on my To-Do list for today! Whew, thanks for reminding me with an ugly, violent message!" Not only that, but our site gets about 400 visitors a month, give or take. Not really high-traffic. :P

So we wait another 30 minutes for our food. Really? How long does it take to make two adult entrees and two kids entrees (corn dog and a grilled cheese, no less!). We eat, Jay tries to fix the problem from his iPhone with no luck. So after we finish eating (a total of about 1 hour and 15 minutes) we skidaddle home to fix it.

Of course, Ess is asking when we get to go feed the ducks. So I tell her that we will go tomorrow since she is off school for Columbus Day, and that daddy has to fix something for church. M-E-L-T-D-O-W-N.

Day 2!

I pack up the kiddos with anticipation of getting a book I need at a library that is a little further away than usual (but... that is the closest one that actually HAD it), then off to the duck pond after. We pull up to the library at about 10:45, and the doors are locked, people are all waiting in the parking lot. I check the website and they don't open until noon. NOON. What library opens that late?? 

I remembered from the search for the book the night before that there were about two copies at the BIG library downtown. I had never been there, so I thought it would be fun to take the girls. There I go, thinking again.

I punch the address into Gartha (that's what we call the Garmin GPS thing, thanks to Jay's aunts) and we head downtown. I find a parking lot, figure out how to use the prepaid parking machine that I'd never seen before. Walk up and down the street, not seeing library. Back and forth, back and forth... up and down the street. Goodness, San Antonio's library is what they dubbed "Enchilada Red," it should be here! I walk over to the only red building I could find.

Mmm, nope. That would be a detention center. 

So I poke my head into the Fire Marshall building and ask the receptionist where the library is. She chuckles and tells me that I am on the wrong street, that it's about 12 blocks THAT WAY on Soledad. I had punched in the street Dolorosa when I put the address into Gartha.

(slams head into desk)

So we get to the library, it's already noon and See is starting to get hungry. We grab the book I need on the second floor, then go to the third floor where I learn that my snappy camera is broken, See is a book-grabber-misplacer, Ess is a bookworm and a talks-a-lot. Trying to corral See without tears, screaming, tantrums...not happening. She's hungry, so I give her a snack and her water, and you'd think I'd given her hydrochloric acid and soylent green. Enough! Strap her in the stroller (meltdown ensues), head to the checkout station, struggle with exorcist toddler while trying to keep Ess from running out the door and pestering people trying to study.

High-tail it to the parking garage!! Change See's diaper (more wonderful screaming), get them buckled in, get outta Dodge. On the way home (mostly highway driving) they both fall asleep. I think that it would be nice to stop and have some lunch at McD's or something (again, shudder) and then go Duckie Feeding.

Just then, the rain starts.

This is seriously an FML moment. Forget ALL of this, I am going home. I pull into the drive way, turn the car off, remote open the doors. Naturally the noise wakes See up, so I take her inside ad put her down for a nap successfully. I come back out to get Ess, to which I am greeted with a frantic, "MOMMY! YOU SAID WE WERE GOING TO SEE THE DUCKS!!!"

"Well, it started to rain on our way home, and you guys fell asleep. So I thought we'd come home for lunch and see how the rain goes. So why don't you go lie down for a little bit while I make lunch?"

Her head spins around like a top, and she vocalizes that she "IS NOT SLEEEPY!!!"

It's all good though, my conniption made her quiet and head to her room. 

Jay took my camera apart to see if it was a simple fix, and it's not - one of the glass pieces inside shattered. I loved that camera. I feel like I am missing a limb without my snappy camera. I guess on payday we'll have to get another one. Yay, a fun, large, unexpected hemorrhage of money. Whee!

 

The Warning

The week before school started, they held a sort of Open House for parents to meet the teacher, ask questions, talk about the kids' schedule, etc. We shook the teacher's hand and apologized profusely. Miss Gee told us that in her experience (with eleven years teaching Kindergarteners under her belt, she was pretty confident) when parents told the her their child was difficult, they turned out to be pure angels. 

Jay and I snickered when we left the classroom, saying we hoped it would be that way for Ess and Miss Gee.

Ess has always, always been active. She learned to walk early, and ever since then it's be go, go, GO! Now she also talks all the time in addition to moving and not sitting still. Over the course of five years my awesome mothering skills have taught me how to tune 90% of what she says out. I think it boils down to pitch/volume. There is a level at which my brain says, "Whoa, she isn't just yammering on and on anymore, there is something wrong!" 

So needless to say it didn't really come to any surprise when I was asked to not allow Ess to wear her Twinkle Toes shoes to class because they are a distraction. And Ess can not stop tapping her foot and setting the seizure-inducing light chain off. Which, since the class is FULL of five-year-olds, distracts every one of them.

They have a behavior chart that parents look at every day and sign off on every week. Stickers for each day = way to go!! Stickers + drawn green happy face = needs improvement. In the thee weeks since school started, we have three green happy faces with accompanying notes like "wiggly," "argumentative," and "distractable." 

But during pickup today, Miss Gee told me that in addition to being wiggly, Ess is also very smart. (Picture me beaming with pride!) She is reading at an advanced Kindergarten level, and that surprised Miss Gee considering Ess just turned five. She said that they will be forming reading groups this or next week and that Ess has already shown she is in the more advanced group. 

Is it silly of me to be ecstatic about that? I never really considered myself to be a "competitive" type of parent, though it makes me proud to hear that she is doing so well. I know I have always taken pride when I do a good job on a test in school, or when something "clicks" when I study it. I feel like my child "getting it" is an extension of me, and hearing that she is doing well is like telling me I am doing well. And who doesn't like a little positive reinforcement?? 

There will be bad days, there always seems to be. Ess is just not the kid that sits down, listens and does what she is told. She challenges things she is told, she interprets things her way, she insists on being first, she loves to win (despite my attempts to tell her that when she doesn't win, it's okay. It's good to congratulate the winner and just try next time. Le sigh...)

On a different note (or maybe not?) I got my first Anatomy test back, and I scored a 95%! Needless to say I was pretty stunned, I didn't feel like I did quite that well. I felt like maybe 85%, but lo and behold... an A! This semester is off to a good start!

Though... tomorrow is a Anatomy Lecture test, and those tend to be harder for me. So... I'll keep you posted. ;-)

Happy 5th Birthday, Miss Ess!

My daughter turned FIVE YEARS OLD today! Where does that time go? I mean, I can still remember getting up at the crack of dawn to head to the hospital for an induction to evict her. I should have known then - she was causing my blood pressure to go too high, a trend that would continue many years down the road.

We had a small party for her on the Friday before school started - just a few friends here at the house. I think everyone had fun, it was nice and low-key. :) 

And then she started Kindergarten! Oh, my. I thought I might cry, but it really wasn't bad at all. I think we were all too busy making sure we went to the right place. Who wants to be that parent on the first day? Who wants to perpetually doom their child to ostracism?? But really, the whole week has gone without incident.

I also started classes - though I missed the first week due to a schedule debacle. Sometimes, I swear, the college makes things harder on themselves than they need to be. But after getting that all fixed up, I went to my first A&P II Lab class today. So far I like the teacher a lot! He's more thorough than my Lab teacher last year, but she was also good, just different. :) 

Now for a few pictures!

  
Ready for class!! She looks so grown! :(

   

 She found the seat with her name on it and smiled back at us!

So that's been our week, in a nutshell. See ya in a few weeks! LOL

Scamlist

I am a big fan of Craigslist. For the most part, we've had good luck with both buying and selling on it.

So recently I posted our double Graco stroller as S doesn't really sit in it, and we only used it for long day-trips like to the zoo or Sea World. So I post it with a reasonable asking price.

Here is one correspondence:

Dumbass: Is this item for sale?

Moi: Yes, it is still available. (I should have known right then. I really should have said, "Nah, I just felt like wasting some time and posting stuff NOT for sale.")

Dumbass (this time from a different email and name...both being gmail accounts, clearly from the "same" person): Hello, Thanks for the swift response, just to let you know that am okay with the condition and price of the item, am ready for its purchase and my form of payment..I will be by sending you certified Check via UPS next day delivery.  Pls take the item off craigslist so no other buyer can ask about it.I'll be responsible for the pick-up and the pick up money will be included in your payment to avoid delay and to enable pick up company to schedule an appropriate time for the pick-up at your location after check has been cashed,as i have other properties to be moved along side with yours. I would have really love to come for the viewing but due to my work frame that might not be possible,but if you have the pics,i might want to have a good look.Please do get back to me with your

Full name:
Address : (P.O BOX NOT ACCEPTED )
City:
State:
Zip Code :
Home phone number :
Cell phone number :
 
Regards

Moi: I'm sorry, I am not comfortable with giving that personal information out. If you would like to meet to pick it up, that's fine. Otherwise I am leaving it on the listing.

I felt like asking him if he's like my social security number and birthday as well.

Seriously?? Does that really work on anyone?? I shouldn't say that, because I have watched Intervention enough to know better.

At Rest, Dad

I've been putting off this post again and again, and I am afraid if I don't do it now the little nuances will escape me. I don't know how to write it, either. 

To those that are unaware, my father passed away on Sunday, July 25th. It was a complete and utter shock to us all, as he wasn't ill or anything.

I can see many things clearly from that day, yet others are so hazy. I was sitting at my computer because the girls were napping and I was doing homework. J had flown to Los Angeles for a convention and nap/bedtime was the best time for me to do my homework. My cell phone, which is sitting right beside me, starts to ring the cheerful Yo Gabba Gabba song "Party In My Tummy"  and the screen shows it's my mom calling.

"Hey, lady. What's up?" I answer in our standard mom-daughter talk.

"L, this is S, your mom and dad's neighbor across the street. Something has happened to your dad, and your mom wants you to come over as soon as you can. EMS is on their way. Be careful."

You see things like that in movies, where the dolly zoom pushes in on the lead's fear-stricken face as they hear the words over the phone. I remember muttering something like, "Oh my gosh, okay. I'm on my way." Of course since both the girls are sleeping I get what I can together fast while they are still sleeping - snacks, drinks, diaper changes for C, couple of toys, etc. All sorts of things are going through my mind and I have no idea what is happening or how long we will be gone from home.

After getting all the "gear" packed up I rouse S from sleep and ask her to hurry up and go potty, that we need to go to Grandma and Grandpa's house in a hurry. She sees me go into C's room to get her out of bed, and asks why I am rushing. "Grandpa is sick, baby, and we need to go check on him to see if he's okay."

On the way over, I text J that something is wrong and that I am heading to their house. All sorts of things are running through my head. Naturally I have to end up behind every slow person, hit every red light, etc. I pull around the corner to their house and I don't see any EMS, fire truck, nothing. Just two lone police cruisers. As I open my door to get the girls out, Neighbor S comes over to me and tells me something like, "I need to tell you, you father has passed away." I remember her saying something about my mom discovering him after she got home from work, and something about the neighbors taking the girls for me so that they can play and not worry or get scared. I remember starting to cry while getting the girls out of their car seats, and then rushing inside to find my mom. 

The next few hours went in both slow-mo and hyper drive - I don't know how long it took for the coroner to arrive. We sat around the kitchen table with a few friends and a few neighbors and talked and stuff, my mom and I in surreal disbelief. There was a police officer "guarding" the area where my father was discovered, so no one would disturb the scene (and in all honesty, there was no inclination from any of us to do so, but procedure is procedure).

My dad had no indication that anything was wrong. He had recently started to lose some weight, and was looking pretty good health-wise. Though being the quiet Polish guy that he was, even if there WAS a problem, he wasn't going to be blogging about it or anything. If he'd experienced any scary health moments, he probably wasn't going to tell anyone because we'd have made him go to the doctor. He hated going to the doctor because A) he spent 24 years in the military with yearly physicals and was tired of it and B) he was insistent that they always just try to medicate you.

My mom came home with us that night, which worked out well for both of us. J was still in California (I'd called him by this time. Or someone else did, and I talked to him... I can't remember) and I knew mom wouldn't want to stay in the house. Understandable.

It was a rough night, at least for me. After getting mom to bed in my bed, I got the air mattress out for me to sleep on in the office. I sat at the computer, trying to make sense of everything. At the last call, all but three of dad's siblings had been notified. I saw a couple cousins online and chatted with them to let them know what had happened, so they could let their parents and/or family know. I cried hard off and on all night. The following morning I looked like someone inflated me with a bunch of air, and that I hadn't slept at all.

He was 58 years old, which isn't old at all. He was in what appeared to be decent health. He never complained about anything bothering him, except for a tooth he was getting an implant for. He worked on our cars religiously. He loved coming to our house for Family Dinner periodically. I wish we had done it more often now. I wish the last thing I had said to him hadn't been about our stupid oven (which was broken) the day before. I beat myself up about not going over earlier that day - since our oven was on the fritz and I had ready-to-bake zucchini bread in the fridge, I was going to bake it in my parents' oven and give them a loaf to enjoy. And I didn't go over. I look at Facebook updates I made that day, and wonder in between which ones did he die? I was twiddling away at the stupid computer while my dad was struggling.

I guess the good thing about it all is that the medical examiner said he had a massive heart attack, so he more than likely did not suffer much. I thank God for that, because the alternative is too much for me to handle. She told me that he had artherosclerotic cardiovascular disease (ASCVD) and the heart attack was a result of that. 

Sometime later in the week, we opted to tell S what has happened. It's not that we were trying to keep it from her, we were trying to figure out the best way to tell her. We didn't know if she would fully "get it" or not. So one afternoon, just before nap time, J and I sat on her bed with her and told her that Grandpa was no longer on earth, that he was with the angels and God, watching over us all. 

She got it. She got it, and then some. She cried HARD for a long time, and of course we told her that it was okay to be sad about it. We were sad, too. I cuddled with her in bed for a while and tried to do my best at being a mom when all I wanted was to kind of hole up and cry myself.

Sometime later in the week, before J got back from California, S saw a framed picture at my mom's house of my grandfather's hand print when he had passed away. She said, "Who's hand print is that?"

"That is grandpa's dad. So MY grandpa, or your GREAT-grandpa."

"Ohhh. But you don't have a dad anymore."

"Sort of. Remember how we talked that grandpa died and is in heaven now?"

"He's an angel now, and he makes sure we're safe all the time."

And she's right. Wise words from a four-year-old wise beyond her years.

The rosary for dad was held on July 29th, and the funeral services were on the 30th. He was buried at Ft. Sam Houston National Cemetery in one of the most beautiful ceremonies I have ever seen. I've never seen a real military service before, and it brings tears to my eyes to remember it.

And I will close with that for now. I am already crying at what I've written thus far. I just keep telling myself that he is with his mom and dad, and his brother that passed on before him. He's watching over all of us, steering us in the right direction in life. I am proud that my girls got to know him as they did, though I wish C was older so she would remember him.

We love you, Dad. May you rest in peace.

A Haiku. Or Six.

Had good intentions
taking family to Sea World.
Father's Day outing!

Sprayed sunscreen on kids,
got all the nooks and crannies
 on the husband, too.

But as any moms know,
we forget to help ourselves
and end up like this:

 

So in pain I sit,
 with blisters forming on skin
 Peeling like a snake.

Learn from my mistake!
Slather yourself before them,
Cuz you WILL forget.

To this tale take heed,
  Waterparks are not my friend
Not just for the suit.

 

So, yeah. Father's Day = Loads of fun! Oh, and pain! Let's not forget pain.

I was wearing a tank top when we were slathering up for the day and neither Jarrod nor I thought about getting my back. And, didn't think about it when I was at Lost Lagoon. Nor when I took off the aforementioned tank top. 

But I did think of it as I sat with C on a lounge chair, and when I went to sit up and peeled my skin off the plastic chair back, and when it burned. It totally crossed my mind then. About four and a half hours later. It also crosses my mind every second of the day now. Mostly when I can't even wear a bra without serious pain.

I do admit that it's getting better. I only cringe in pain after about two minutes in direct sunlight instead of two seconds. And when I took S to swim lessons this afternoon, it was HOT. Even in the shade. As C sat in her stroller turning an adorable shade of pink (yes, underneath an umbrella! Learnedmylesson, kthnxbai!) I looked down at my decolletage-area and thought, "Ugh, beads of sweat. And I took a shower this morning, even."

Only... those weren't beads of sweat. Those were pockets. Of pus. BLISTERS!!!!

Hundreds of teeny, tiny micro-blisters line my chest, and presumably my back. When I get home, I grab a hand held mirror and... yep! There they are! 

Sigh. Can someone shoot me? Please? I am white as a sheet of 24# computer paper. I should know better right? But it's seriously holds true. We worry and fret over making sure that everyone else is covered completely that we let ourselves slip aside. 

I think I learned my lesson. I fear the giant gaseous orb in the sky.