:: Cartwheels At Midnight ::

"Scooter" Works Here

2010-02-24T21:12:00.004-05:00

I don't want to be a cheeseball, but sometimes I just can't help it.

I was leaving work tonight, walking to the elevator and out to the parking garage alone, 20 minutes after my day officially ended, thinking how much I enjoy my co-workers (except that One) and how much I enjoy going to work each day. Don't mistake that to believe that I enjoy my work every day. Sometimes it's draining and exhausting and overwhelming and it makes my cry, and the Very Last Thing I want to do is walk through those doors and see the mess of work that I left on my desk the previous night. But in general, interacting with the Good people I get to see each day is worth braving the Bad.

I like seeing the same people each day and laughing about the Insanity Du'jour. I like that each co-worker has a different personality and I like knowing what kind of conversation will come from interacting with each one. I like my supervisor. And my director. I even like the silly nickname I mistakenly incurred last week. I like knowing that after a year, and after trying to resign 6 months ago, that I belong there.

I don't think I've ever talked about what I do. I'm an investigator with Ch!ld Pr0tective $ervices. (Trying to hide it from search engines.) And last September, I became overwhelmed and felt that I was putting the children of my county before my own children. I was having more migraines and getting less sleep. I was obsessing over a mom I feared would harm her children and the lack of evidence I had to do anything about it. I was tormented by fear each time I had to testify in court. I dreaded the ring of the phone when I was on call and the sound of a police officer on the other end. I hated having to make decisions regarding someone else's family.

So Tim and I decided together that I needed to resign and find something less demanding and part-time so I could give my family the attention that they deserved. Except that my director would have none of that. She gave me one of her Famous Pep Talks and told me that I was a keeper and that she would create a position for me to prevent me from leaving. And she did.

So. Since October, I have been off the streets and in the office fielding every report of ch!ld @buse or negIect (being incognito again) that comes into our county. And during that time at my desk, I have gained confidence in my understanding of state child welfare code and in my assessments of child endangerment. I have learned when to give more of myself and when to not. I have learned when to go home at 4:30 on the dot and when it's important to stay late.

In less than a month, my position will be obsolete and I will be going back to investigations. I am strangely looking forward to it, grateful that when my position changes yet again, the people who make me laugh from 8-4:30, Monday-Friday (and after-hours on-call and the occasional weekend) will still be in my life, still cracking me up with our twisted sense of humor.

Enjoying the Small Things

2010-02-22T22:10:00.004-05:00

It's February in Indiana.

Life outside is dreadfully gray and soggy and a bone-chilling cold. What snow remains on the ground is edged in soot and the shine on our cars is dulled by salt. Everyone's recovered from the Christmas Rush only to face trudging through the days, Spring Break a mirage on the horizon. For us and for our children, each day blends into the next - a blur of activities, patchwork dinners, homework, alarms that go off too early and buses that come in the dark.

Mackenzie finally finished out her swim season, exhausted but happy to have swam and now she returns to concentrating on her grades which have been somewhat neglected since Christmas.

Joe is knee-deep in Show Choir Competitions, practicing during the week and traveling each weekend, somehow dipping ice cream in between.

Dillon is still loitering around, attending EMT class and trying to find his new niche in life and manage without license nor vehicle.

Alex has had a hard month, be it a reaction to his medication, puberty, or his own form of Cabin Fever that's causing his erratic behavior. He's been disagreeable and combative nearly every night in recent memory and it's exhausting for those who care for him.

Sometimes I find myself wishing time away. Thinking, "If we can just make through the next 4 months then Dillon will get his license back."

"If we can just get through this year then Joe's meets and competitions will be off the calendar."

"If we can just make it through next year, then Mackenzie can drive herself around."

"If we can just make it through puberty with Alex, then Life can return to peaceful."

"If we can just get through the next 6 years, then all the kids should all be out of the house and Tim and I can finally settle down."

And then tonight Dillon came upstairs to talk to me. Mac was downstairs studying, Alex in bed, Joe at school, and Tim at the firehouse. I was sitting alone on the couch, TV off, computer on my lap, red wine within reach, having just been purposefully urinated on by Alex in retaliation for making him bathe. Dillon had clearly come topside to check on me and we chatted for a few minutes before he said, "There's been a lot of tension in the house lately." He wasn't making a judgment, not placing blame, just noting his observation. My immediate response was to apologize and then the phone rang, Tim checking in one last time before bed. Dillon waited until I was off the phone and talked with me a few minutes more, then kissed me and went to bed. I sat there a moment, thinking what a wise and insightful young man he is. Whether or not he meant to, this Man-Child I raised while raising myself reminded me to Enjoy the Small Things.

So before I sleep tonight, I'll simply Enjoy these Small Things:

the bottle of water Phyllis brought me today when she heard me say at work that my Peace Lily was thirsty
new sneakers
Joe, coming to check on me tonight after hearing about the evening
writing a post
the piles of folded laundry on the table (thank you, Dillon!)
Alex, being a sweetheart at JoAnn's Fabrics tonight
Babycat's meow
my pants fitting better
the new treadmill that's on it's way
Mackenzie's magical ability to calm Alex down during a meltdown
the fire in the fireplace
a husband who makes me laugh
and last but not least, 2 doggies keeping me company on my big empty bed

The Good, the Bad, and the Alex

2010-02-08T23:08:00.004-05:00

Last night was not a good night. Alex started to melt down around 2 in the afternoon and nothing we did could change the terrible path of destruction he was on. Sometimes, there's a trigger for his meltdowns and we watch and we learn to adapt and eliminate the triggers from his environment. But sometimes, like yesterday, the meltdown is like a fantastic spring storm that you first see on the horizon. You take measures to try to prepare for it and take precautions to minimize the damage, but sometimes no matter what you do, the storm is inevitable. Sometimes it's too big to try and avert with our meager human ways and all we can do is resort to damage control.

Yesterday, the storm started at 2 and didn't end until it was knocked back with medication and wrestled to bed just before 7, leaving a swath of destruction and tears and a fair amount of pain in it's wake.

But today. Today, Alex couldn't have been more wonderful. He hugged and kissed me when I got home from work, he stopped playing his airplane game without complaint to get in the car and fetch Mackenzie from practice, he sat down to eat with just one no and then moseyed off to the bath after I asked only once.

Then, he signed that he needed to sit to take his shoes off.

He signed "sit!" And I've never seen him do that before. We communicated! He told me what he needed, and I was able to help him!

It's days like today that make the very gray and stormy days fade into the background of our consciousness and allow the Baby Steps that we yearn to see float to the surface and restore our Hope.

Mackenzie Turns 15

2010-01-16T19:22:00.005-05:00

For 15 years, I've been continuously amazed by this wonderful creature. As a baby, she was so stubborn, she wouldn't let anyone other than me push the grocery cart or her stroller. She walked before 9 months, surprising everyone with her tiny upright body. Her fluffy, cornsilk hair turned into crazy red-brown corkscrews right before my eyes. Then one day, she she started talking, and hasn't stopped since.

Mackenzie is wise beyond her years and her maturity, at times, puts me to shame. She adapted to a new stepfather and 2 new brothers with amazing grace, and took the initiative to learn American Sign Language to better communicate with Alex. I can always count on her to step in when my patience with him runs low. Her compassion and empathy are impressive (considering how much she doesn't like babies).

After we moved back Home, Mackenzie quickly made friends and in school, she ranks 19th out of her class of over 500. When she needs homework help, she's on her own. Mackenzie's a dedicated athlete, and has to talk me into dragging my butt out of bed to take her to 5:45am practice. This spirit is probably why, as a freshman, she competes on the Varsity Swim Team.

Mackenzie makes me laugh. She is in my head and I in hers. When no one else "gets" us, we "get" each other. Sometimes we just have to look at each other to know what the other's thinking and it's all over for the people in our midst. We dissolve into giggles like two best friends at a slumber party. I can always count on her to tell me Which Shoes? or answer me truthfully when I ask, "Do these pants make my butt look big?"

Mackenzie hasn't decided what she wants to be when she grows up, but has ruled out her baby dreams of being a Mounted Police Officer. Last I heard, it was a toss-up between Sign Language Teacher in a Special Needs Classroom and News Anchor. She's got a while to decide, and I plan on just sitting back to enjoy the ride.

You all know how I believe in Serendipity. And what a happy accident that I was appointed to be her mother. I know that Mackenzie is destined to grow into a stunning and extraordinary woman, someone we can all be proud of.

Raise your glass to a memorable Past and a wondrous Future.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

Listening to Mac

2010-01-13T22:11:00.000-05:00

A year ago, I bought Mackenzie the Twilight series for her for Christmas. She promptly read them all in less than a week and then accosted me with the entire series, saying I MUST read them Right Now. But I was busy. I was painting the house and starting a new job and still adjusting to the addition of 3 more boys into our Girl House. And I didn't read them.

Then out of the blue, just after Christmas this year, I picked them up and read them all in under 2 weeks. The only reason I didn't read them more quickly was that pesky job of mine and my terribly annoying habit of falling asleep the moment I get horizontal.

I LOVEDLOVEDLOVED the entire series and each time I had to put one of them down, I couldn't wait to pick it back up again and learn what was happening with Bella next. They were an easy read and sometimes silly, but the story did it's job and took me away from Child Protection and dishes and 100-pound-meltdowns, to a Make Believe world for a short time each evening.

The moral of this story? We should all listen to Mackenzie. She knows of what she speaks.

Reading List 2010

2010-01-01T21:38:00.008-05:00

Someday, I'll start reading again. For now, I keep plugging along...

The Alchemist's Daughter ~ Katharine McMahon
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time ~ Mark Haddon
??
Three Junes ~ Julia Glass
While You Were Gone ~ Sue Miller
Tamar ~ Mal Peet
Sarah's Key ~ Tatiana de Rosnay
The Glass Castle: A Memoir ~ Jeanette Walls
The Help ~ Kathryn Stocket
A Reliable Wife ~ Robert Goolrick
Fortune's Rocks ~ Anita Shreve
Her Fearful Symmetry ~ Audrey Niffenegger
The Kitchen House ~ Kathleen Grissom

7 Days:Day 7: Paige is the Queen of Wii Bowling

2009-12-25T20:34:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 7: Paige is the Queen of Wii Bowling
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

(But not the Queen of Wii Basketball.) Tim got Wii Resort Games for Christmas (mostly because they have the basketball and he loves the basketball.)

Unlike real bowling, where the longer I play, the more tired my arm gets and I start to suck more, Wii Bowling is easier! Lighter! Less frustrating!!

7 Days:Day6: Christmas Eve

2009-12-24T22:35:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day6: Christmas Eve
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

This is Alex, Tim, Paige, Joe, Dillon, and Mackenzie. These kids are what makes us laugh, and makes us worry; they're what makes us proud and what makes us love. These kids are the reason for everything we do and we couldn't be happier to be their parents.

7 Days:Day 5: Silver (Spiced Rum!)

2009-12-23T19:36:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 5: Silver (Spiced Rum!)
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

Tim and I tried this Captain Morgan's Silver Spiced Rum last week at his work Christmas party. It was delicious and I've had a fair amount of it for dinner tonight.

And! A side note... Note the antlers I am wearing. Today was a weird day at work. Monday and Tuesday, no one wanted to report any child abuse or neglect. But today! Today, people who saw someone hurt a child 2 weeks ago (or longer!) decided to make a report. We did not understand this as it is Christmas Eve Eve and we planned on not working too much today. ANYWAY... So I wore these antlers in an attempt to keep our mood light and happy. THEN! I wore them home. I have 4 teenagers in my home. Alex (15, Nonverbal Autism) saw me and was so excited to see that Ma turned into Rudolph during the day and kept signing, "Rudolph"! Then, separately, I conversed with Joe (18), Dillon (21), and Mackenzie (15). Not a one of them mentioned that I was wearing antlers on my head. It was very surreal.

When asked, Mackenzie stated that it just didn't seem out of the ordinary to her.

7 Days:Day4: Paige in a Box

2009-12-22T17:37:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day4: Paige in a Box
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

So. Today you get a photo of me at work. Though any "work" you see here is simulated as it is 2 days before Christmas, we are working with a skeleton crew, and wholly unmotivated.

7 Days:Day 3: Reading

2009-12-21T22:38:00.002-05:00

7 Days:Day 3: Reading?
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

Mackenzie and I trying to read after a hard day. She had a swim meet in Indianapolis, I worked. Then we baked cookies!

7 Days:Day 2: Toasty Treat

2009-12-20T17:02:00.001-05:00

7 Days:Day 2: Toasty Treat
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

This is Fire in our new fireplace! For the past 2 years I've lived in this house, there was an antique (read "unuseable") gas heater and an awful draft to this fireplace. This year, thanks to my husband, I am warm and toasty.

(He, of course, has to sit around in his underwear because the living room is an inferno.)

7 Days:Day 1: After

2009-12-20T15:37:00.004-05:00

7 Days:Day 1: After
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

7 Days is back. I neglected to post the Fall 09 run and it seems that "Cartwheels" could use a jumpstart so here we go!

After the Firefighter Christmas Party. I suspect that Tim might have a headache tomorrow. Thank you, Russ, for the reminder! I saw it at 11:52pm. Just in the nick of time!

We're Booking Now!

2009-11-14T17:43:00.005-05:00

Eight months ago I started to read a book. Tonight I finished it. I think it was good but I really only remember the last hundred or so pages. And then I cried at the end. It's name is "Firefly Lane."

Now I am faced with the awesome task of choosing my next book. There are several that have languished in my bookcase for quite some time (or years - I'm looking at you, "Poisonwood Bible"), the last book in the Kay Scarpetta series... I thought about "Vanishing Acts" but I fear that I have already read it and I just don't remember. I have a book in there called "Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress." I think I'll try that one next as anything too deep these days causes me to lose interest with alarming speed. I've wanted to read "Wicked" but I am afraid that all those made-up names will distract me from the story. Mac wants me to read those vampire books. (What are they called?) I could totally do that but it seems like a huge commitment - have you seen how big they are? They could be the last books I ever enjoy at my current rate of reading.

I have read "Fireman Small" countless times over the past two years but that can only take me so far in the Literary Satisfaction Department. Therefore, I'm currently open for suggestions. If you have a book that you lovedlovedloved, please let me know. Just don't let it be too cumbersome. I can only dedicate a limited number of brain cells to reading lately. Thank you for your participation.

7 Days:Day 7: Happily Ever After

2009-10-09T15:52:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 7: Happily Ever After
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

I love this. It was a gift from Tim's mom.

7 Days:Day 6: Mantle

2009-10-08T15:42:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 6: Mantle
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

These are the objects that sit on my mantle.

7 Days:Day 5: Bedtime Ritual

2009-10-07T15:50:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 5: Bedtime Ritual
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

Every night, Tim and I get into bed, turn on the TV, the timer set for 120 minutes, and then promptly fall asleep. We never watch an entire show.

7 Days:Day 4: Big Eyes & Squints

2009-10-06T15:48:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 4: Big Eyes & Squints
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

Mackenzie and I are commenting on my Facebook while on 2 different computers, sitting Right Next to each other. Because that's how we roll.

7 Days:Day 3: Scritch-Scritch

2009-10-05T15:46:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 3: Scritch-Scritch
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

Last Thursday, Babycat broke her lower back-upper tail. (She probably got hit by a car.) She is walking better, but her tail is dead and will probaby have to be amputated. Her brain seems to be getting the message that she has to potty, so the prognosis seems Good! We have a follow-up appointment tomorrow and will know more then.

7 Days:Day 2: Family

2009-10-04T15:45:00.000-05:00

7 Days:Day 2: Family
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

This evening we celebrated my mother and Tim's mothers birthdays at our house with Lasagne, wine, and cake. We are very close to our Families. That's "Family" (in Sign) to Alex.

7 Days:Day 1: Just Paige

2009-10-03T15:44:00.001-05:00

7 Days:Day 1: Just Paige
Originally uploaded by Cartwheels At Midnight

Nothing like waiting until just before bedtime to try and find inspiration for a photo! Here is me in my new (grown out) haircut.

(Retroactively posting these. Just because.)

An Open Letter to Delta Airlines

2009-08-05T21:52:00.003-05:00

My 14 year old daughter, flying from her non-custodial father's house in San Diego with a lay-over in Minneapolis, arrived in Indianapolis tonight to a mess caused by your customer service personnel. First of all, she was listed as an unaccompanied minor in San Diego but listed as an adult in Minneapolis. This caused an issue when I went to get my gate pass to go get her. Finally, that was figured out and we went through security to find her disembarking. There was no paperwork in her envelope so the customer "service" representative (Jodi) looked it up in the computer. She did not bother to explain to me what was going on and barely even acknowledged me. She couldn't figure out what to do and after about 10 minutes finally told me that there was no paperwork to prove who was to pick up Mackenzie and to prove that the $100 fee had been paid. (I could not have cared less about your $100 fee at this point but it seemed to be very important to Jodi.) She called some people, looked around in the computer, and finally found the name of a "J. Mills" and a phone number. This is my ex-mother-in-law. She called Jane and played a guessing game with her, asking if she knew who would be picking Mackenzie up tonight. Jane didn't even know that Mackenzie was traveling today and guessed a "George" (my father). That was wrong and Jodi hung up. At this time, Mackenzie started to cry, fearing that she wouldn't be able to come home with her family.

After about 30 minutes of this fiasco, a gentleman finally noticed that Jodi didn't know what she was doing and pointed out that my name was on the envelope. She had me sign for Mackenzie, never apologized for the confusion, and I practically threw the document at her and left, calling her a moron. Because she was. A third man, another CSR , who was completely uninvolved up to this point, hollered at us as we walked away, "We're only protecting your child." He had no idea what had just happened and had no business making comment.

I have no problem with ensuring that you are handing over children to the proper adult. My problem lies in the lack of communication, the lack of acknowledgement, and the way this was handled. Jodi could have reassured Mackenzie, she could have explained to me earlier on what was going on, she could have left out her concern that Delta get it's $100. My name was on that paper all along. All Jodi had to do was open her eyes and look for it. My daughter left your airline sobbing tonight and that is unacceptable to me. For a child that travels alone 2-4 times a year, I will be hard-pressed to consider Delta in the future.

I would like to hear your response to this matter.

Time Marches On

2009-07-16T21:51:00.004-05:00

I've been pondering the beast that is "Time" lately. There is not enough of it. There is not enough Time at work, there is not enough Time at home, there is not enough Time with friends and family, and it feels like the days pass at warp speed.

It's been bothering me that I've abandoned my writing. I've always written in some form, but it's been almost 6 months since I've posted anything to Cartwheels. It's a double-edge sword: I think it's a shame that I spent so many years being sad and expressing it in my writing and in my need to write and now that I live every day in happiness and contentment, I don't take the time to share it and record it so that I can look back on it and remember how wonderful I feel at this moment.

It was a busy spring. I barely remember it, quite frankly. I started a new job that required me to be in Indianapolis for training for 3 months. Most people stayed down there during the week and came home on the weekends. I couldn't do that. With Tim working 24-hour shifts and kids at home, there was no way for me to just leave for a week at a time. So I commuted each day - left at 5:15am and returned at 6:00pm. I was in bed at 8 most nights. That left little time for writing or anything else. Tim picked up the slack by taking on the laundry, the cooking, the kids, and most of the cleaning. I couldn't be more grateful. Our amazing Family filled in the empty spots.

When summer came, I decided it was time to build a fence, a patio, and 3 new flower beds. Two are currently complete. But the backyard looks fabulous. If only there was Time to use it.

I haven't been taking pictures. I've taken half as many photos this year as I usually do. That's not ok. The year will be gone and I'll wonder how we spent the Time.

I did take the Time to read 2 books lately, one Mac asked me to read, and "The Last Summer (Of You & Me)." I am currently ignoring "Firefly Lane."

My hair is growing out again. It should take some Time - a couple of years - to get it back to where it belongs. I should really stop cutting it. Mac looked at me one day last winter, a year after I'd cut my hair and said, "Mom, when are you going to grow your hair back? You don't look like you." And she's right. I don't feel like me. I should invest in a new mirror before it gets much longer, though, before I get tired of not being able to see myself again and shave it.

I haven't had enough Time for friends. For talking on the phone with Annie and Beth, for Tim and I to attend the Mosey down Main Street with Scott and Zandra, for going to my cousin Gretchen's house for beers and girltalk. I've only been to the pool twice this year, for heaven's sake! Alison laughed at my white, white legs. My legs have never been white! Even in the winter, my skin is darker than all my friends! It appears I've been spending too much time in the office and the house. This needs to change. Maybe this weekend.

It's a little late for New Year's Resolutions, but I think I'll resolve to write more. To find some Time to record how amazing our life is. So that when the kids are gone, and Tim and I are old, we won't look at each other and wonder how we spent all that Time.

Babycat Haz A Deathwish

2009-01-31T10:55:00.005-05:00

Last week she was playing in the heavy pottery bowl on the side table which, before this particular incident, housed the clickers. There was a chap stick in the bottom of the bowl and one of her favorite games involved trying to get that chap stick out to bat around the floor. Until last week when she knocked the bowl off the side table, scattering the contents, shattering the bowl, and ran off to curl up under the dining room table. When I finally pulled her out, I could see that she was holding her right leg up and limped terribly on it; is still limping on it. The vet said it's not broken.

One night recently, Tim and I went to a funeral. Before we left, I shut the closet door in Alex's room. When we returned five hours later, Mac mentioned that she hadn't seen Babycat in a long time. I instantly panicked. The wind chill was below freezing outside. We called for her. We shook the treat jar. Nothing. Then. Something reminded me that I had shut the closet door in Alex's room. I crept past where he was sleeping and could hear her crying inside the closet. I opened the door and she ran to the food bowl, evidently relieved that she didn't starve to death that night.

Several nights later, Babycat was playing on a dining room chair, jumping up at the back of it, chasing some unseen fun. While at the top of a jump, she managed to stick her head between the slats and practically strangle herself as she came back down. For the slats narrow at the bottom of the chair and she isn't tall enough to push herself back up. Luckily, I happened to be standing Right There and was able to lift her head up and out of the deathtrap, shaking at the realization that if we hadn't been home, or even in the same room with her, she would have died. I turned to Tim and said, "We need new chairs. These are a safety hazard." He just smiled and told me, "Ok." (And he totally would, you know - buy new chairs to save my baby girl.)

The next night, she jumped off the spiral staircase from over 6 feet up. She flew through the air, only to land and run, once again, under the dining room table, curled up in a ball. She appeared to be fine several minutes later when she started batting a ping pong ball around the room.

After this last incident, Tim gently approached me and pointed out, "Didn't you remove Babycat from a home with terrible living conditions and bring her here to protect her?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Baby," he tenderly said. "Maybe she would have been safer there?"

And all I could do was laugh and recall the Social Worker's mantra: "We're not looking for The Best environment. We're looking for a Safe environment."

...and consider how ironic it would be if I rescued Babycat from that home only to have her die in an accident in mine.

In Which Paige Refers to Herself In the Third Person

2009-01-26T22:58:00.002-05:00

Paige got a Facebook. She succumbed to Annie's persistent suggestion that she could talk on the phone less if Annie could see what she was doing more frequently.

Annie was right. (As she usually is, and we all know this so don't go telling her how amazing she is thereby giving her the Big Head. This is why we call her "The Voice of Reason.")

Anyway, Paige has a Facebook, and Tim has one, and many of their friends have one. They have gotten in touch with old friends (WLHS Class of '85!) and gotten to know new friends (Hi, Joni!) and have generally been having a grand old time. The one drawback Paige has found is that she is starting to narrate her day to herself in third person. Behold...

Paige hates cold dark mornings. She doesn't want to get up.
Paige. Needs. Coffee.
Paige LOVES that Tim brings her coffee every morning.
Paige thinks winter is stoopid.
Paige can't decide if laundry or vacuuming is priority.
Paige thinks Tim's voice is sexy. Not Darth-Vadery like Mac says.
Paige should take something out of the freezer for dinner.
Paige notes that she has to pick up Mackenzie and Alex in 45 minutes.
Paige is neglecting the Blog again.
Paige feels fat. Pass the Peanut M&M's.
Paige shouldn't procrastinate on Facebook.
Paige is roasting red peppers.
Paige wishes cats didn't poop.
Paige and Tim need privacy.

Paige is happy that someone invented Facebook and invited us all to play, but wishes that it hadn't brought to glaring light that she is slightly nuts.

My Favorite Things

2009-01-18T11:34:00.009-05:00

...lazy Sunday mornings having coffee with Tim.
...a bookcase full of new possibilities.
...a house de-furred.
...Snoopy.
...smiling. Smiling's my favorite.
...Joe performing.
...good-hair days.
...margaritas.
...the way Alex signs "I love you."
...Spring.
...laughing with my sister.
...early morning, before the kids are up.
...Babycat curled up on the back of my chair.
...taking a photo with just the right light.
...a Slinky.
...waking up to find that it's only 3am and I have several more hours of sleep.
...Mac Paints in Sublime.
...Oatmeal Raisin cookies.
...my amazing Navy Wife sisters. xoxo.
...a new candle.
...how Dillon says, "Hey, Mama!" when he answers my phonecall.
...Lucy.
...holding hands.
...watching a fountain.
...Alex smiling.
...Tim's voice.
...finishing a scarf.
...a sale at The Gap.
...learning new signs.
...a fire in the fireplace.
...new paint colors.
...a sunbeam.
...Mackenzie's hair.

Bigcat Haz Envy

2009-01-14T13:12:00.007-05:00

Emily and Melyssa sent me a letter.

Bigcat ate it. He does not want to hear about your Down Under Summertime and your beaches and your sunburns. He is cold.

Exhibit A:
Across the street.

Exhibit 2:
Down the street.

Please, if you could, send Bigcat some earmuffs. Thank you.

Again With the Paint

2009-01-13T18:52:00.002-05:00

There has been a painting situation going down in this house lately.

In 2007, I fell in love at first sight with my home right off the MLS sheet. I called my realtor (the Worst Realtor Ever, BTW) who got me in to see it the very next day and standing on the front porch, after months of searching and countless boring houses, I knew that this was the house I was going to buy - a tiny little 2-bedroom bungalow with a semi-finished basement. It looked like a beach house with the massive windows, snow white trim, and scuffed-up hardwood floors. I wanted to expand on the beachy feeling and in sharp contrast to the vivid colors I painted the townhouse in Virginia*, I chose seaside shades for this home - sand, green beachglass, and blue, blue water. I wanted to create a soothing, relaxing, girlie-if-you-will, space for what I expected to be mine and Mackenzie's oasis.

That lasted one year.

With a new husband and new sons and new busyness, the colors in this home haven't felt vibrant enough for this family in constant motion. So last week, I painted the dining room Asparagus Green:

... and this week the living room will be Robin's Egg Blue (keeping the brown on the chimney):

Hopefully by spring, the kitchen cabinets will be white, the walls Periwinkle, and the back wall of the kitchen chalkboard paint - necessary for keeping track of my crew.

Mackenzie laughed at me when I told her what I was going to do, saying, "I don't know why you painted the house those colors in the first place - I think you were trying to be grown up. Are you over it now?"

And I suppose I am. The bold colors are back and they seem to infuse our home with a vibrancy that fits the constant hustle and bustle around here.

*Wow. There is a lot of new furniture in this house - a combination of selling my old stuff on CraigsList and purchasing new PaigeAndTim furniture, and a bit of Tim's stuff added to the mixture.

All We Ask is a Little Understanding

2009-01-06T22:40:00.004-05:00

Transitions are hard for Alex. He needs fair warning if we are to leave the house, if it's time to take down the Christmas tree, or if it's almost time to turn off the movie and take a bath. Autistic children prefer order and routine. They don't like you to spring a new plan on them without plenty of advance notice. And for an autistic child of divorce, the change in households, routine, expectations, and rules can be terribly disorienting.

Alex spends every other weekend with his mother in Indianapolis (and usually one night of that with her parents in town) and those Sunday nights when he comes home can be so frustrating for him. Last Sunday evening, he was a little fired up when he came home from his visit so I put "Bee Movie" in the DVD player in his room so that he could watch and just chill out for the 30 minutes before bed which he watched for a bit before asking for Tim. I explained and signed to him that Tim was at work but that we could call him on the phone so Alex could talk to him. While the phone was ringing, Alex signed "boat" (meaning that he wanted to watch PT109). We only have that movie on the DVD hard drive located out in the living room where Mac was reading and it was only 10 minutes before bed, so I told Alex that we could not watch it tonight but that we could watch it tomorrow. This information was more than he could handle and his little mouth opened up and he closed his eyes and just started bawling. (Of course at this moment, Tim answered the phone and wondered what the hell was going on. I quickly explained and told him we would have to call him back.) Alex came to me and put his arms around me, soaking my shoulder with his ginormous crocodile tears and I took him to his room and lay down with him, chattering all the while, trying to take his mind off of his Enormous Sad. I ended up the speaking voice for Mr. Crabs - a half French, half Spanish accent - and within 5 minutes he had forgotten all about his boat movie disappointment and was cracking up at The Silly. He talked to Tim for a few minutes before nearly passing out from exhaustion.

Last night was a similar scenario. He was still transitioning from his mom's house, add in the transition from a 2 week break, and the poor boy spent the hours between school and bed just moments away from tears and finally - I don't even remember what it was - but something tipped him just over the edge. Tim was home and took him to lie down at which point Alex fell asleep almost immediately. The first day back at school wore him out.

I hate that he has to deal with this change every 2 weeks. I hate the enormous disappointment that comes from not being able to expect the same rules and routine in each household he frequents. If all 3 households could work together to have and enforce the same rules, this problem would be lessened, but I think it's too much to ask 2 sets of parents and 1 set of grandparents to agree on what the rules are and how they will be enforced. I tell myself that on some level the frequent transition is good for him - it keeps him from becoming too much of a homebody keeping the same repetitive routine. But on nights like Sunday and Monday, we want to never let him leave our sight again. We want to form a protective cocoon around him and let him know exactly what he can expect from one moment to the next. He was better tonight. There wasn't a single tear and he was engaged and playing with Mackenzie and I.

While at my daily de-briefing with his teacher this afternoon, she said that Alex had been experiencing some behaviors (a few tears, slight aggression) but she just thought that it was just a "transition thing" unlike his last teacher, who would have put him in an extended time out, perpetuating the behaviors. We love his new teacher. She is smart and she understands Alex.

Standing on the Threshold of 2009

2009-01-04T23:37:00.004-05:00

Last year, Annie dubbed 2008 "The Year of Paige." She was right and I rocked the last year. I worked, I paid the mortgage all by myself, I mothered 2 children alone, I maintained my home, and I fell in love. Right in the middle of my I-Am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar One Woman Show, I fell in love...

And you know how you go to your stuffy Great-Aunt Gertrude's home for Thanksgiving and everyone is dressed up in their finest and using every single manner that they ever learned and then, during a lull in the conversation at the Adult Table, YOUR PRE-SCHOOLER drops the F-Bomb at the top of his lungs? You know how it makes the very Earth slow down and the entire Universe of Your Family sucks in their collective breath to see what is going to happen? And then every single eye in the room is on you? While the cogs in their brains are working overtime to try and figure this out - how this could happen Right Here and Right Now?

In my world, that is what happened last summer when Tim and I announced that we were going to get married. I didn't expect anyone to understand it, but I knew it was Right. And now, barely six months later, my 968 square-foot bungalow with a basement has expanded to include an attic room, my 3-person family has expanded to 7, the peace and quiet and clean is all but gone, and I am happier than I have ever been in my life and my family can see that. I have a husband, but I also have a Voice. I have to compromise again, but my needs and desires Count. I don't run a bank or perform life-saving surgeries, but to my husband and my children, I am as Important as the CEOs who run this country and the doctors who save our lives.

There are still repurcussions from my past life that bite me in the butt every day, but 2008 gave me Power. It taught me to stand up for myself and fight for what is right. It taught me that rolling over on important issues will not work for me and that I have a responsibility not only to myself, but to my children to take a stand.

I've closed the door on 2008 and standing on the threshold of 2009, I am happier than I have ever been in my life. I don't yet know what the new year has in store for us, but I do know that whatever comes our way, Tim and I will handle it together - the good and the bad.

And anyway, I have a feeling - it's going to be a happy year.

Reading List 2009

2009-01-01T10:02:00.006-05:00

Hello. Let's endeavor to read more this year than during the past 2 years, shall we?

Devil in the White City ~ Erik Larson (started 10/08, finished 1/09 - I will not be winning any speed-reading contests at this rate)
A Certain Slant of Light ~ Laura Whitcomb
The Shipping News ~ Annie Proulx
Firefly Lane ~ Kristin Hannah
there was a book or two in here which I can not recall
Twilight ~ Stephenie Meyer
New Moon ~ Stephenie Meyer
Eclipse ~ Stephenie Meyer
New Dawn ~ Stephenie Meyer

7 Days:Day 7: Kickin' Our Feet Up

2008-12-26T22:31:00.003-05:00

We are beat. The week has done us in and we are so exhausted that I don't even know what to write in this description!

BYE, Everyone! It was a blast as always! As long as Russ remembers to send me a reminder email, I will see you all in March! xo

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 6: Spiral Portrait

2008-12-25T11:06:00.004-05:00

Merry Christmas! You'd think I'd have a Christmasey-er photo for today... but you'd be wrong. The day was packed and i quickly took this one on the recently-almost-finished staircase before leaving to visit the Parental Units.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 5: Wish

2008-12-24T11:01:00.003-05:00

Theme: Where am I?

I'm Wishing IN the Star. Merry, Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 4: Twinkletoes

2008-12-23T13:48:00.002-05:00

All of a sudden, Christmas Eve is tomorrow. I wish now, that I hadn't spent Sunday in Epic Laziness. Here's a quick 7 Days shot to post so I can go about my business.

(And on a sidenote, this is the second of my 3 tattoos. It is a circle made of Autism puzzle pieces with 4 footprints running through it representing the 4 kids: Dillon, Joe, Alex and Mackenzie. Each of the footprints touches the puzzle, just as Alex's autism touches each of their lives.) Tim has the same design under his arm.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 3: Candy Cane

2008-12-22T20:08:00.001-05:00

...from my favorite candy store in town. When I was living away from home all those years, Mom always made an effort to go downtown to McCord Candies to buy me my very own stash of their candy canes. This year, my new husband brought me a bag.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 2: Indiana Puts the "Winter" in "Winter Solstice"

2008-12-21T21:16:00.003-05:00

It is currently 1 degree F here (-17C). If you visit, you should bundle up.

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

Joe

2008-12-21T14:18:00.009-05:00

Joe is 17 (actually, "seventeen-and-a-half" as he informed Tim and I last week) and a Junior in high school. He is a singer-actor. An amazing singer-actor. He's been a part of Civic Theater productions, school productions, and performs in his own band. Last summer, he played the Elvis-Singing-Pharaoh in "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat..."

...and completely stole the show. He had a lead in the school's fall production of Neil Simon's "Rumors," and last month put on an incredible Lumiere from "Beauty and the Beast," French accent and all. He made the school's premiere choir, First Edition and just participated in an amazing Christmas Show:

Joe has played the guitar forever. If you chance to mosey past our house, you are likely to get a private concert - even from the street (God love the amp). I'd worry about our neighbors except that the neighbor has his own amp to compete with Joe's. The following video is from his last school's talent show in 2007:

Joe is a typical teenager - he sometimes gets too big for his britches, but has a heart of gold and will help out if only you ask. He has an infectious smile and when he breaks out into a (usually mischievous) grin, you can't help but smile back at his giant dimples and sincerity.

Joe does everything at full speed. He often leaves doors open behind him and rarely takes the time to fully dry off after his shower - he walks through the house leaving a trail of water to show where he's been. As you can imagine, his room is usually a disaster and when we can catch him coming or going is when we have to remind him that it needs to be cleaned periodically.

Joe is intense. He feels emotions sharply and believes in his convictions with all his might. He tends to throw himself into everything he does, which probably is what makes him such an amazing performer. Joe loves to debate. To channel his skills away from the parental units, we are encouraging him to join the school Debate Team where he can debate to his heart's content. Joe loves Fall Out Boy and was horrified to learn that I had no idea who Patrick Stump was. Now I know.

Joe wants to major in Radio and TV (and Music) Production and currently hopes to pursue that Dream at Ball State. But that's "currently." He also has a tendency to change his mind with the wind. I'll keep you posted.

Even though his peaceful, independent, bachelor lifestyle ended when he, Tim and Alex moved into my home, I think if you asked him he'd say that he is happy to be a part of the Crazy that lives here. He and Dillon are like two peas in a pod - have you seen "Step Brothers?" That's their theme movie. He now has Mac to gang up on Tim and I with and to join him on a mall-run (or Sonic - they love Sonic).

I, for one, am glad Joe is a part of my family. He makes me laugh and calls me "Momma," just like Dillon does. He gives me a hug when he sees I'm having a bad day and occasionally kisses me when he leaves. He brings an energy to the house that Mackenzie, Dillon and I were lacking - he gives our ultra-laid-backedness (yes, I made that up. I do that.) a much-needed shot of oomph. While he adds his fair share of "Crazy" to the home, Mac and I agree that it wouldn't be nearly as fun around here without Joe in the house. So thank you, Sweetie, for being you.

7 Days:Day 1: Believe

2008-12-20T22:58:00.005-05:00

...in yourself
...in love
...in your dreams
...in new beginnings
...in others
...in hope
...in Santa

7 Days has returned again, in which we post one self-portrait a day for the next *7 days* (heh, get it?). This tattoo is new and was inspired by this bracelet, given to me by Beth.

How Is Paige?

2008-11-02T21:05:00.003-05:00

...Let me tell you how Paige is:

Paige is putting frozen peas in the cupboard.

Not. Good.

I Voted

2008-10-31T16:25:00.002-05:00

You're welcome, Mr. Obama.

(Dear Dead Family-
You may resume rolling over in your graves.

Dear Alive Family-
You may continue to talk quietly amongst yourselves: "Oh, that Paige. What are we going to do with her?...")

(Added today - 11/3 - as Paige realizes that hitting *save now* is not the same as hitting *publish post*. Duh.)

Alex

2008-10-01T21:58:00.004-05:00

It has occurred to me during the past couple of weeks that I haven't properly introduced you to my two new sons yet. As we've been on the topic of Alex, I'll continue with him and then introduce you to Joe.

This is Alex.

Alex is almost 14. He is 2 months older than Mackenzie, still leaving her in her role of the "baby" of the family. Alex is happy, he is sensitive, he is smart - he's smarter than you think; he has a great sense of humor and is quite a teaser. Alex is affectionate - he is a hugger and a toucher. Alex is non-verbal. He uses mostly signs or gestures and his few words to communicate with us. He signs "daddy," he says "ma." He signs drink, bathroom, movie, swim, fish, school, home - he has about 40 signs in all, including special signs for Joe and Mackenzie. He has about 15 words, including doggy, home, please, and no & why which he saves for those special occasions when we are lulled into a sense of complacency and we forget that he's our baby, but also a teenager. Alex always wears a ball cap and a plastic wristband on each arm (the current flavor is Livestrong)... always. Alex has autism.

Alex loves to watch movies and he'll watch them over and over if left to his own devices. He thinks Indiana Jones is great, Spiderman & Batman are two of his favorite heroes, and anything with a dog is worth watching, in his opinion. Bob the Builder is a favorite and Bob even has his own sign - simulating a hammering motion, fyi.

Alex loves airplanes and air shows. He owns a truckload of toy airplanes and several airshow DVDs. Evidently, a guy can never have too many airplanes. Naturally, he has a thing for fire trucks and all things fireman - toys, pictures, books, blankets, videos, clothes - you name it, we've got it in a firefighter theme. (All but the dog - we have 2 dogs, neither one with a spot between them.) Alex has a road map rug, facilitating the leaving-around of thousands of matchbox cars. (Watch your step at my house.) Speaking of maps, I keep a map in my car because Alex loves to look at a map (and then usually tells us we need to head to Nebraska or New Mexico or somewhere equally unlikely). Alex loves to play with an old, rotary-dial phone. He gets out the phonebook and calls his friend Ross from school. Sometimes he calls his mom or his grandma.

Alex really only wants to drink Diet Root Beer. In the morning, we can talk him into chocolate milk, and recently we've been able to sneak in some water enhanced with a flavoring. He doesn't like ice cream because it's too cold, but loves a vanilla milkshake. Alex will eat just about anything. He LOVES him some chips & salsa, sugar snap peas, and corn on the cob, but his absolute favorite is crab and will eat an adult portion at a restaurant (and then some - watch your plate).

Alex's favorite person in the whole world is his dad:

Alex will be starting at Mackenzie's school in a few days. We are hopeful that the new teacher will teach him some new signs, his numbers 1-10, some letters beyond those in his name, and begin to teach him basic but necessary life skills, some which will eventually lead to a vocation, be it bagging groceries or working at a recycling facility (the kid LOVES to recycle). We don't know what the future holds for Alex, but we do know that he will never lead an independent life - he will always need some measure of supervision. For now, we know that Alex will be in school until he's 21, after which we will have to evaluate the possibilities. Being unsure might sound scary, but it's ok - we've got 7 years to decide what we'll do, and until then, we'll just relax and enjoy our family:

7 Days:Day 7: Reunited

2008-09-26T21:53:00.005-05:00

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

Yesterday was challenging. What follows is only 1/3 of the issues we dealt with, and only the tip of this iceberg for this issue:

About 6 months ago, it became apparent that Tim's 13-year-old son Alex, who is Autistic and non-verbal, needed something more than what his then-classroom could provide so at the urging of others, we started looking at more specialized and intensive programs. Unfortunately, as our town is middle-sized and not a large city, our choices were limited. After much research and deliberation, we decided on a residential treatment facility in Indianapolis that specializes in Autism. The plan was that he would live at school during the week (with visitors almost every evening) and come home to our home and his mom's home on alternating weekends. This was an intensive intervention to teach him sign language and basic life skills that was to last only a year or two before he would return to our home and pick up with his peers here in the public school system.

At the beginning of September, after much preparation and discussion about the transition, we took him to his new school. During the course of the past 3 1/2 weeks, Alex went from a happy, social boy to a despondent, weepy boy. When we would go visit him during the week, he would sign that he was sick - he wanted to go home and thought his was his ticket out of there. We began to think that he was placed in the wrong unit or the wrong classroom and has asked for a meeting with the school to discuss other options. But when we arrived for our visit on Thursday night, and found his teacher alone in her classroom, we decided to go in and ask her how he was doing. We noticed right away that the colorful and stimulating classroom that we had toured during the summer was barren and sterile. The old teacher had left and this teacher was new. Her responses to our questions were less-than-promising. She stated that he was non-responsive in class, that he had not been using the signs he knows, but that he could pick some out on flash cards. Flash cards? Learning more signs and enhancing his communication was one of the primary reasons he was there. I'm not a teacher, but I know that using flash cards to teach Alex to communicate will not work. We were promised a Sign Language expert and that everyone in contact with Alex would know his signs. This did not happen. The teacher stated that he seemed "spaced out," "lost" and "scared." She said that he had been "targeted" by a couple kids in the class who pinched and shoved him. When asked if she thought Alex belonged in her classroom, she hesitated and couldn't give us an answer. When asked if she could provide us with a daily or weekly update, oddly enough, she didn't even have our email address. We left her classroom knowing that this teacher was incompetent to teach Alex. Disheartened, we went to get Alex out of the Autism Unit to take him off-campus for a milkshake.

At 6pm, we found our boy alone in his room, rocking (as autistic kids will tend to do) in a corner, with the lights and tv off. He had on a dirty shirt, his face was dirty, his hair greasy. He smiled at us when we walked in, but there was a cry right behind that smile. We told him we were taking him for a milkshake. He asked, "Home?" We told him that no, his mom was coming to get him tomorrow - we were just going for a milkshake. Tim changed Alex's shirt and we went to Culver's where he barely engaged with us, leaned into his dad the entire time we were there, and signed that he was sick. On the way back to his school, we called the director of the autism unit and asked for a meeting with him today. It was arranged for 1pm. When we got to the school, we walked around the track a couple of times before taking him back to his room and reading him a story. He didn't want us to go, but we told him that we would be back tomorrow and kissed him goodbye.

Leaving that child there was one of the hardest things we ever had to do. We didn't want to leave him, but we didn't want to react to the situation instead of thinking it through and responding appropriately. A lot of people had jumped thorough a lot of hoops for us to get Alex placed there, in the "best autism treatment center in central Indiana." But by the time we reached our home, we knew we were bringing him home for good today and that no promise the administration could make to us would make us feel like he was safe and well in their care.

Our meeting at 1:00 today was cancelled due to an emergency. Ten minutes after hearing that news, we were in the car on the way to Indy, with empty Rubbermaid boxes in the back. When we walked into the unit at 11:30, we asked Alex, "Want to go home?" He laughed and jumped up and down and said yes. I don't think he understood the magnitude of what we were asking until we took the boxes to his room and I started to put his clothes in one. He watched me for a minute then started grabbing things off his bed - blankie, Mr. Crabs, and his puppet Sammy, and threw them into an empty box. He was going home and he knew it. The boy that we had lost for a month was back. He giggled and laughed and hugged us and smiled all the way home.

He's asleep in the room next to ours as I type. We don't know what the future holds for Alex, but we know that it won't ever be far from us again. We know that we can't provide the best Autism treatment money can buy, but we can provide love and safety and a happy home for him. He's here to stay. This is where he belongs.

7 Days:Day 6: Just Walk Away

2008-09-25T22:15:00.002-05:00

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

We had a few family crises today, but nothing we can't handle together. Some things we needed to face head on, some we needed to just walk away from.

7 Days:Day 5: Public/Private

2008-09-24T09:45:00.001-05:00

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

Today's theme: Public/Private

7 Days:Day 4: Everything Is A-OK Here

2008-09-23T20:47:00.002-05:00

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

We are crazy-busy and perpetually exhausted, but Happy. And that's all that really matters.

7 Days:Day 3: Crackin' Myself Up

2008-09-22T15:41:00.003-05:00

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days.

At first I was fake-laughing for this photo. After about 5 takes, I was laughing for real after realizing both dogs and the cat were watching me with a WTF-look on their faces.

7 Days:Day 2: Twirly

2008-09-21T12:58:00.003-05:00

Taken for the Flickr group, 7 Days. The theme for today was "Action".

And what gets more action than a twirly skirt?

...wait. That didn't sound right.

Anyway, this is Me. Twirling. On my front porch. If you talk to my neighbors, they might say I'm crazy.

7 Days:Day 1: Peace

2008-09-20T18:26:00.003-05:00

Hello, Friends! It's time for 7 Days again. It's been 6 months because Tim and I were so busy getting ready for the wedding that I downright forgot the Summer run of 7 Days.

This is my picture for today. It's been so long since I took a self-portrait that I was all sorts of camera-shy today and completely uncomfortable in front of the camera and it shows. Bleh.

That Which Can Be Vacuum Wrapped

2008-09-08T14:07:00.009-05:00

Following is an account of the crazy stuff that goes on here...

Tim has a Seal-A-Meal.

He loves it. I do not have a Seal-A-Meal because I don't like stuff that will clutter up my cabinets. Also, don't like stuff that has parts (for example, the bags) that will run out and cause me to have to replace them. Because I hate going to the store. Especially going to the store to find some obsolete item that I have no idea where it is and then I might have to talk to a store employee and I really just don't want to do that. (Also, I almost accused it of being As Seen On TV, and I hate all things As Seen On TV, but Tim read this and called me out on it because it was Not Seen On TV and then I had to edit.)

Anyway, when Tim moved in, he brought his Seal-A-Meal. He asked if he could (because he's sweet like that), and I told him, "Of course you can bring it. (Because I, too, am sweet like that.)"

...As long as he left his recliner at his old house.

(He did.)

Unfortunately, we had nothing to seal when the Great Sealing Inquisition began during dinner one night. (Started by Mac because she had never heard of a Seal-A-Meal and was amazed by the magical invention and was curious as to how it worked). So Tim jumped up from the dinner table, grabbed the unit out of the cabinet, found the last of the bags, and was ready to seal. But what to seal? There were not 25 pounds of extra pork chops lying around...

Fortunately, we had just been to Sam's where we purchased the industrial size bag of Peanut M&M's and they were just begging to be sealed up in glorified freshness so that 2500 years from now explorers will find it buried beneath 10 feet of soil build-up and open the bag and lo and behold, they will be able to sample an ancient M&M just as fresh as the day it was sealed...

And also, some Pepto Bismol. Which I pointed out was already sealed for freshness, but whatever. No one listens to me.

Mac wanted to know what would happen if they sealed a PB&J:

Gross.

Then Joe was making fun of how dopey the Family was being and then made the unfortunate decision to leave the room. So they sealed his phone:

Living here is much like living in a fraternity house. You should watch your back (and phone) at all times.

Addendum: What you can't see here as I did not photograph it is that while Tim and I were out later, Joe retaliated by Seal-A-Mealing Tim's razor, toothbrushes, deodorant, one of my bras, and a thong. But I won in the end when I pointed out to him that he touched my underwear which he won't even touch as it comes hot out of the dryer, stating that it is gross.

...Boys.

Bob? or BOB...

2008-08-17T21:30:00.005-05:00

Last week, Tim and I were standing in line at CVS when he said, "Oh! Your daughter needs batteries for her Bob*!" I looked at him while that sentence processed and my mouth began to crack into an hysterical smile and the giggling started. Simultaneously, he realized what he had said, and while the woman in line ahead of us pretended to ignore the fact that we were slowly losing control of our composure, we started laughing so hard that I had to cross my legs so as to not pee myself. And the more I tried to control my giggling, the more I pictured Tim buying batteries for his step-daugher's vibrator, and the more hysterical I became until I was practically bent over at the waist paying for our batteries and other random crap.

We left the store looking in our rear-view mirror for Child Services.

Funny. As. Hell.

*Bob, in this case is an alarm clock. Not a Battery Operated Boyfriend. We are liberal here, but not THAT liberal.

Girl, Married.

2008-08-09T10:28:00.003-05:00

On August 2nd, I married a dream.

His name is Tim and he's the man I thought didn't exist. Our similarities are striking. People just meeting us think we've been married forever. Those who have known us forever say that we were made for each other.

The ceremony was perfect. Casual and comfy, just like us. Our closest friends and family were there to share the perfectly cloudless day with us. We had the ceremony at the clubhouse and pool in Tim's parent's neighborhood. There was beer and soda and hamburgers, veggies and potato salad and cake. The mayor married us - the ceremony lasted 3 minutes - 7 minutes from walk in to walk out. More than one person there told us that we "got it right."

Here are some of my favorite photos from the day:

Mackenzie and My Nieces

Tim & My Dad

A Moment Interrupted By 2 Goofballs

And at the end of the day, we went to our hotel room where we ordered a pizza, drank some wine and exchanged cards...

Perfect.

Puzzle Pieces, Found

2008-06-24T22:37:00.007-05:00

On August 2nd, 2008, I will be marrying this man. I know in my soul that we were meant to be together. I knew it from before our meal was served on our very first date. He is the most thoughtful and compassionate man I have ever known. He is an amazing father to his sons and an incredible role model for Dillon and Mackenzie.

We are uncannily alike (beyond the fact that we share a birthday). Except for the unfortunate Sushi discrepancy, we have similar food likes and dislikes (milk, no; liver, yes), we watch the same shows (and share the same opinion of Reality TV). Our wardrobe leans towards the casual (jeans and t's thankyouverymuch). Our religious beliefs are in agreement (Catholics, lapsed). We have a tendency to take in strays (kids and all they drag along - the current count is 4 kids, 2 dogs, a cat, a snake, a fish, and a tarantula; 1 girlfriend, 1 wandering soul, and 2 friends who are always hungry).

He thinks my quirks are cute. I think his sincerity is stunning. He thinks my photography and writing are amazing. I think his chosen profession is admirable. Our children "get" one another. We fit perfectly together, like the last two pieces of an unfinished puzzle. I needed him and I didn't even know it. I thought I didn't need any man.

He is patient. He waited a year to ask me out; he waited until he sensed I was ready. He had a Three Day Plan to make me fall in love with him but he didn't even need one day. His Three Day Plan completely blew my Five Year (No Man) Plan out of the water and is an accomplishment he is very proud of this year.

I am Happy. It's been a long time since I've felt Happiness without fear or trepidation or waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the first time in my adult life, I feel like Happiness is not a temporary emotion. This Happy is for real. And it's here to stay.

Weirdness and Poop

2008-05-27T09:55:00.002-05:00

Overheard in McDonald's in Smalltown, Indiana:

20-something guy: "I need to take a cold shower then check on my fantasy football."

70-ish year old lady to 90-ish year old father eating a small cup of ice cream at 11:40 am: “Don’t eat too much of that! You don’t want to ruin your dinner!”
Father: Scowl at daughter.
Daughter: "But it sure is good, isn't it?" in a timeless sucking-up maneuver.

Different 70-ish year old lady to 50-ish year old daughter: “Why do they call it ‘sweet tea’? This is not sweet.“
Daughter to mother: “I didn’t buy you the sweet tea. I didn’t know what you wanted. Here’s some sugar.”
Mother: Growl

Seriously. She growled.

First 70-ish year old lady to 20-ish year old boy at same table: “…my great-grandson has bowel problems. So he got some medicine and when I give it to him, I pick him up and hold him on my lap, and rock back and forth and sing a song to have the poopy come out…”

Which reminds me:

Dear Old People,

Please don't talk to us about your bowel movements. We don't care and it grosses us out. Why do you think that constipation and fiber and poop is an ok thing to talk about at the table? I really, really don't understand that.

Love, Paige.

PS - Dillon and Mac: If I ever start to talk about my bowel function as a part of general conversation you are hereby authorized to dump my ass in the nearest home. Love, Mom.

What a Wonderful World

2008-05-18T22:42:00.004-05:00

It's almost midnight on a Sunday night and my favorite song is playing on my iPod. I should be asleep. I have a big day tomorrow and have to be up early. But I just wanted to post a reminder to myself that while I've been quiet lately, it's not a Bad Quiet, it's just Quiet. It's a Contemplative Quiet. My mind has been busy sorting out my thoughts and concentrating on work and my children and on Life in general.

I want myself to remember that tonight, I am Happy.

Who is Tim? A Guest Post by Tim

2008-05-08T20:05:00.010-05:00

I've only done this once before, a couple of years ago when I let Dillon guest post on Cartwheels. But we've had a special request by Rachael for more info about Tim. So I asked him to read her comment and here's what he wrote:

"Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome." -Booker T. Washington

Who is Tim? The quote above says a lot about me. I have had my obstacles in life. Every one of them has a positive in it. Sometimes it's hard to find the positive but it's always there; we all have them. A son with autism has taught me what is important in life. When a little boy who can only say a handful of words looks at you at 6 am, and he waits 'til you look him in the eye and then says "HI," it teaches you that nothing in life is more important at that moment to him than you are. He may never say "Dad" but his love for you is unconditional.

That loud noisy band in your garage is annoying as hell. Be thankful those kids are out there and not out running around doing who knows what? Hearing a door slam at 1am means that your kids have made it home safe again. I wouldn't trade that door slam for anything.

I have told Paige many times that I have gone through a pile of shit to get where I am. I wouldn't trade where I am for anything in the world. My life is really good right now and getting better every day. There really is nothing I/We can't handle. Thank you to all of you that have helped her get through her pile. We have both come through it at the same time and growing closer every day, learning who we are and where we are going.

It's going to be good!!!

Contentment

2008-05-06T21:12:00.003-05:00

contentment
noun
satisfaction, gratification, fulfillment, happiness, pleasure, cheerfulness, ease, comfort, well-being, peace, equanimity, serenity, tranquility

I don't remember the last time I felt "content."

I've lived much of my adult life in a constant state of uneasiness; unsure of what tomorrow would bring or even how today would end. I know now, what I can expect of tomorrow and I take comfort in the knowledge that I won't have to defend my right to have my own opinion and that I can make my own decisions without being judged for them and suffering anyone else's disapproval.

I am at peace that the decisions I have made are the right ones for me and my children, and that the people I have allowed into my life are leaving a positive footprint behind. I know that my life is better today because Tim is a part of it, and I am certain that whatever Life throws at me, I can handle it - we can handle it - no problem is too big to be overcome.

I am content enough to sleep. I haven't slept well in years, but lately I've been falling asleep the moment my head hits the pillow. I'm not lying awake for hours unhappy and worrying, only to get up and sleep on the couch, the TV lulling me to sleep in the wee morning hours. I wake up refreshed and with a smile on my face, ready for whatever today may bring. Because I am the one piloting my life right now and that feels good.

I am at Peace. I am Happy. I am Content.

The Good, The Bad, and the Weird

2008-05-02T17:23:00.002-05:00

Wow. Remember when I used to post stuff on here and you guys would come read it and then we'd get to talking (and sometimes drinking... OH! Remember drunk blogging?! How fun was that?!) and we'd laugh and joke and sometimes talk about serious stuff like the side-effects of Accutane and Sports-Rage in Grandparents and Sex and Politics (wait, that wasn't me - I don't talk politics)... Anyway, we talked about stuff - important stuff - and we had such fun? ...

Good tiiiiiimes....

Well, it's been a month, and I feel as though I should write an Ode to April. I could title it "Weird as Hell".

First, let me note that I posted the following quote sometime in February. I liked it, and it spoke to me, but I wasn't sure why. Many weeks later, it makes perfect sense...

“In the arithmetic of love one plus one equals everything and two minus one equals nothing.” -Mignon McLaughlin

I had been living in a "two minus one" world and didn't realize it. I started to realize it last October. It took 5 months for full realization to hit. I can be slow to come around.

Back to the weird stuff:

Grandma died. That's not really weird, per se. She was almost 90, had cancer and was in diapers. But her funeral gave us (me, Ali, Mom and Dad) the opportunity to reconnect with Dad's brother and his family in Florida. And it was great. I highly recommend hanging out with family. Mine and Alison's cousins are young - 13, 15, and 18 - their dad is only 10 years older than I am. But can I just say, I think we rocked the cousin-hanging-out standard. And we participated in "Bring Your Old Cousin to the Beach Day." You should try it. It's fun.
Dillon got himself arrested. I hesitate to post that on here lest his Dad read this and use it against him he will, but let me just say, it's a fact. It was Really Stupid, he totally regrets it, and hopefully his one night in jail will circumvent any further plans to be an idiot.
We had an earthquake. In Indiana. And it woke our asses up at 5:30am. I'd like to schedule all further earthquakes for later in the day. Preferably around Happy Hour.
Cat spent 4 days in the Animal Hospital. He had a raging ear infection that last Friday we didn't think he would survive without the $4,000 MRI/surgery combo. Monday came and went without him having to be euthanized and now, though he still has a head tilt and walks like a drunken sailor* and will be on antibiotics for another month, the brain seizures and inability to walk have ceased. He still can't jump onto anything and may never be 100%, but at least he's alive and well. And, the vet somehow fixed his meower. He never meowed before he was sick, and now he never shuts up.

* I know. I've seen thousands of them.

On the very day I thought to myself how grateful I was that I had not gotten a summons for Jury Duty, I arrived home from work and guess what was in my mailbox... A summons for Jury Duty. I am so not making that up.
I had birds in my car. Yes. Birds. When I went out to the car on Wednesday morning to take Mac to school, I opened the door, got in, and was surprised to find 2 birds flying about my head. I asked myself, "Birds?!" Then yelled, "BIRDS," just as Mac was rounding the corner. All she saw was me screaming and jumping out of the car, flailing my arms about my head, screaming, "OPEN THE DOORS, OPEN THE DOORS!! BIRDS!! BIRDS!!" We did, and they flew out, and life was Good again. I still can't figure out how they got in there.
I began a new relationship. This, in and of itself, is not weird at all. The weird part is that he lives next to Mom and Dad, I've known him for about 7 years, and I used to hang out with he and his ex-wife when I came home for a visit. His name is Tim. He's a Firefighter. In March, when I realized the truth in the above-posted quote and took back control over that part of my life, he somehow noticed the change in me and decided to ask me out, after having thought about doing it for a year. After spending 5 hours with him on our first date, I recalled how much I missed having another adult to talk to and it occurred to me that just going through the motions of a "settled life" - work, home, laundry, kids - wasn't enough. So we went on a second date. The following night. And we started to realize the millions of things we have in common. Now, my life is Enough. And I am happy. As are we:

I Remember, Grandma

2008-04-02T22:35:00.008-05:00

We all remember her differently. I remember how much she cared for me and how much she loved me. I remember her being so excited about me being her first grandchild that she talked babytalk to me for far longer than was appropriate. I remember her putting eyedrops in my pinkeye when I was 3 1/2 and Mom was in the hospital having Alison. I remember the photos of me all over her house - that one with the geranium is still my favorite. I remember going to her neighborhood pool. I remember the intercom in her "blue" house. I remember her letting me ride her German Shepherd, Tina. I remember, after they moved to Florida, her dragging me around to show me off to her friends when they came Home to visit. I remember she always had Orange Juice for me in the fridge and homemade whole wheat bread. When I grew up and decided I liked to cook, she hand wrote out the recipe for her wheat bread for me. Twice. One version for the bread machine and one version for the oven.

Dad has different memories. He has memories of her that we will never know. Like why he called her "Maude" and what she did to create his intense hatred of Chicken Pot Pie. There's an old, black and white photo in my basement, of Grandma crouching behind a 2-year-old George in an Army uniform. Dad's the only one who knew that woman.

Mom's early memories of Grandma were of a tasteful, put-together woman. She says she was always fashionable and fun to be around and always going out. She says that her house was perfect and that she was an amazing seamstress. Mom says she could make or tailor anything.

Alison has the least memories of her than all of us. Grandma & Grandpa moved to Florida when she was still a toddler so most of her memories come from Spring Breaks, where Disney or one coast or another was the main attraction. She told me recently that a few years ago she had been talking to our Aunt Jacque (our mom's sister) about Grandma and how she has so few memories of her. She told me that Aunt Jacque shared with her how in awe of Grandma she was as a young woman. Her clothes and hair, how poised and gracious she was and fun she was to be around. For my sister, this was a gift. A chance to know the Myretta that left an impression on a room. A Myretta that could put an outfit together like no one else. A Myretta that was a lot like her.

Life is long, and people do and say things that they regret. But in every life lost, there are good memories that remain behind to comfort those who can Remember. I called her last night, when she was in the last stages of cancer. She was in the third day of a coma. I asked Uncle to hold the phone up to her ear so I could talk to her. I told her that I loved her and that I was sorry I hadn't been to see her for so long. I told her that I hoped she wasn't hurting. I told her that we had had fun when I was little and that I remembered it. I told her, "I remember the good times, Grandma."

She died at midnight last night and is finally, finally, at Peace. And so should we be.

Testing the Waters...

2008-03-31T22:36:00.005-05:00

Huh. I appear to have pulled a vanishing act again. That 7 Days thing really wore me out. I needed some recovery time.

Also, I've been dealing with some personal stuff - nothing I can't handle. Though working it out seems to require more brain power than I can spare...

The End of the Month Crazy concluded today, and we all start with a clean slate tomorrow...

...which is April Fool's day, huh? That can't be good.

Do we need a picture to get this party-train back on track? Please hold, while I go find one you haven't seen...

(Insert Spinning Beach Ball of Death here.) [If you had a Mac*, you'd get that.]

How about this one?

It was taken a few weeks ago, during 7 Days - the night I was SO uninspired and ended up with a picture of a picture. Clearly, this one was rejected for that creepy "come hither, brewmaster" look on my face. But the beer looks fine, so here it is.

*Mac, the computer; not Mac, the daughter.

7 Days:Day 7: Fish Kiss

2008-03-14T23:59:00.000-05:00

'Til next time, Fellow 7 Day-ers! It's been so fun, but I'm a little glad it's over - I was starting to run out of good ideas and was getting pretty tired of taking photos of myself.

Thank you, Sarah and Lauren, for your fearless leadership and for keeping the fun rolling.

See you in June!

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 6: Free Fall

2008-03-13T20:52:00.003-05:00

Five years ago, I dove off this bridge. That 30-second feeling is what each day of the past year has felt like to me. In a few weeks, it will be a year since my divorce...

... I think I'm finally on the upswing.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 5: Me and My Really Big Necklace

2008-03-12T19:37:00.003-05:00

The theme for today was "Me and My..."

Wow. I REALLY couldn't decide which photo to post today. I worked all day then had to go to Mac's 7th grade swim banquet. Then, I came home and took 2 rounds of pictures but I just couldn't get in the groove. Mac and I decided we liked this one best. It'll do.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 4: Sunshine

2008-03-11T19:38:00.003-05:00

It's 41 degrees in Indiana as we speak (and look! no snow in the background!). My smile should be MUCH bigger than this, but as I am unaccustomed to the sun, my face is all squinty-like and scrunchy.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 3: Handstand

2008-03-10T17:01:00.004-05:00

What does one wear when she handstands in the dining room before work?

....running shorts and stripey knee socks, of course.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 2: Blue on Blue on Blue

2008-03-09T19:24:00.005-05:00

The theme for today was "Blue"...

Blue sweater. Blue eyeshadow. Blue wall. Blue girl.

I worked all day today, doing 2 visits for non-custodial parents. I'm a little more "loopy" than "blue" and I see it coming through in the photos.

Besides that, Mackenzie was standing just off-camera making fun of me, trying to think of sad things to enhance the moment. She only made me laugh.

For 7 Days.

7 Days:Day 1: I'm Super

2008-03-08T23:05:00.003-05:00

The 7 Days project has started once again over at Flickr. This is my entry for today. You may recognize my Super Favorite t-shirt from previous photos.

Maybe I need to go shopping...

It Takes A Village

2008-03-08T21:48:00.006-05:00

About two weeks ago, my furnace stopped working. I was on the phone with my sister when I realized it. "Go downstairs," she said. "Your pilot light's probably out."

"Assuming that I do go downstairs, and I take the cover off the furnace, and I bend over and see that the pilot light's out, what the heck do I do then?"

And she thought about it for a sec and started to laugh. "Good point. You better call Dad."

But I didn't want to call my Daddy. I wanted to be a grown-up and not go running to my dad every time I need something. But after I thought about it for about 2 seconds, I realized that I DID need help, and my Dad WOULD be happy to help.

So I called him. "Jim" was here to fix my furnace within 30 minutes.

Then, several days later, I came down with a nasty, nasty flu bug. I was achy and shivery and miserable for almost two weeks. I went to work, then lay on the couch and wished I would die. Without even asking, my mom brought me a giant pot of Magic Chicken Noodle Soup. Then hours later, my sister called. She brought me a massive iced tea from McAlister's Deli because I was so, so tired of 7-Up. Later that night, Mom called and asked if I needed Dad to come pick Mac up and deliver her to school the next morning.

Last Thursday, Mackenzie got out of school at noon. And as I am a Working Single Mom, she had no way home. She called my sister and was delivered to our door, right after school.

There were many reasons I wasn't sure I wanted to move back home after the divorce last year - the Indiana winters, the fact that I have no friends left in town, the midwest conservatism, twenty years of living everywhere but here. I wracked my brain, trying to figure a way to move to San Diego. I considered staying in Virginia.

If I had any lingering doubts that moving home was the right thing to do, the past 2 weeks have put to rest those thoughts. I am so, so grateful to my parents and my sister and her husband, and for everything they do for me and my little unconventional family.

And In BULLY CAT and NEVERENDING WINTER News...

2008-02-20T18:17:00.003-05:00

Cat, 4; Taiko, 0. Two matches resulted in blood drawn.

4 inches of snow with more on the way; 19 degrees.

Things I've Seen While Commuting Lately

2008-02-20T17:43:00.002-05:00

A black bear
...that turned out to be a really fluffy cow.

A blue horse
...that turned out to be a horse with a blue blanket.

A barn roof
...no barn, just a roof. And half-a-roof at that. I drive past this phenomenon at least 3 times a week and for the life of me can't figure out how this happened. I do have a theory: The side walls of the barn rotted and it collapsed. Then the people were too poor to buy firewood so for the last 5 years, they've just been going out to the barn and pulling board after board out so now, all that's left is the half-a-roof. I am so not making this up. I'll take a photo one of these days.

Half-a-house
...Honestly. Same story as the roof. Except that the house is brick and I seriously doubt that anyone burned it.

A TEENY-TINY chapel
...in someone's side yard. Perfect for a TEENY-TINY wedding.

A pancaked black cat
...at least I think it was a cat... Hey, don't shoot the messenger, I just report the facts.

A hawk stomping on something in a roadside ditch
...he was deadly, but beautiful.

A river
...turned into a lake.

An unopened bag of Doritos in the median
...Cool Ranch.

A grandma on a moped
...DUI, do you think?

Six deer
...conferring in a cornfield.

A haunted house
...I have no proof that it was actually haunted, but if I were a ghost, I would totally move in.

Winnie-the-pooh
...no explanation. It is what it is.

Oliver

2008-02-18T21:10:00.002-05:00

This is Oliver.

He belongs to Mackenzie. She adopted him from the local Petsmart. He is a "young adult" kitty and the sweetest of the sweetest of all the cats she held. There was the hissing one, and the one with the twitchy tail; there was the one who had been "treated for tapeworms", and the big giant calico one who rubbed his head against her hand, but then sunk his claws into her shoulder. Oliver was the first kitty she held and the one she went back to in the end. They were meant for each other.

Dear God: Please Give Me a Break. (And by a "break" I don't mean make more of my shit break.)

2008-02-06T21:30:00.000-05:00

End of the month reports and billing kicked me in the ass - I have yet to recover.

Dillon's car got totaled (he's ok but a very, very sad boy).

My basement has sprung 2 leaks - there's actually a 1-inch hole under the stairs with a tiny little river running out of it. If it were in my living room, the sound would be very Zen.

Taiko has many symptoms of this: Syringomyelia - he has slowly been degenerating and he had a seizure last night.

Turns out that I (barely) make too much money to qualify for Mac to get 4 years paid tuition at an Indiana University - FYI: I make an absurdly meager salary - Dillon's salary puts the household over, even though his paycheck is irrelevant to me and Mac and goes towards fast food, cigarettes, gas, and insurance.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, those Sundays that I've been working since September and was so excited to have free starting this week have just gone bye-bye with the incredibly bonehead move of One Selfish Person. And because I anticipated having Sundays off, I have taken on a new client and scheduled them for Friday Afternoons. I'm back to one day off a week again. But it was awesome to have 2 days off each week (Friday and Saturday) for the past 2 weeks. Like a mini-vacation to Hawaii... albeit with snow... and bills... and dustbunnies.

And I have to take Lucy in for a check-up on Friday. I suspect they will inform me that I need 4 new tires - I despise buying tires.

I very much would like to go to bed and sleep for a Very Long Time.

I Spent Today On The Receiving End of These Comments

2008-01-30T23:04:00.000-05:00

"Hey, Mom... What do you know about Engineering?"

"I wish she was more careful with her teeth."

"How much did Dr. Oz say we fart every day?"

"Maybe you should read something lighter....like comics."

And my personal favorite...

"So. I heard your client's in the pokey."

And I Had Always Heard That Hell Was Hot

2008-01-29T23:07:00.000-05:00

Today's high was 55. The wind chill is currently -20. Sandwiched in between this bi-polar weather was a period of high winds, thunderstorms, hail, and a tornado watch.

Currently, there is a layer of snow outside covering up a layer of ice.

Dillon went to class tonight at 6pm with his sun roof open. After class at 8pm, he went outside and opened his car door to find his car apparently sopping wet. Guess who left his sunroof open during the thunderstorm...

Adding insult to injury, the temperature plummeted and it froze before he got out of class. He had to drive home sitting on a layer of ice.

Geography ala Grandma Hazel

2008-01-27T23:06:00.000-05:00

I spent almost 3 hours of my day today killing time at a McDonalds in Attica, IN. (I have a very important job* that requires me, on occasion, to go somewhere, pop in, then make myself scarce for a couple hours before I re-pop. And as the library in Attica is closed on a Sunday (actually, I just assumed that it was closed because the other libraries in this particular county and a couple of surrounding counties are closed on Sundays... huh. I should check on that.))

Anyway, while at aforementioned McDonalds, the church crowd (or to be exact, two different waves of church crowds (talk about some racy clothes there - deep in the midwest, low-income city, churchy folk - yikes)) flowed through while yours truly sat and wrote reports alone at a table-for-two. When I arrived, there was already an older couple sitting across the aisle from me, on the same side of the table, facing everything that was behind me. And I hear the woman say, "They're from Asia."

And the husband said, "Mexico, I think."

And the woman replied, "Nooo, Asia. That's where China and Korea and Hong Kong and all those little island-places are."

And I listened to them debate for a couple of minutes more where Asia was and what countries were involved until I just couldn't stand it anymore and turned around to see the Asians who had started such controversy in a small, historical, river town.

And they were Latino. Which led me to wonder what they were doing in Asia...

@@@@@

I'm not really done talking about the phenomenon I witnessed today - let's recap: a city which shares a name with a dangerous prison, a church crowd, bad clothes, midwest hair, and the freakiest thing of all - the entire patonage (each wave considered separately, of course) of McDonalds knew each other well enough to stop at tables to inquire about Aunt Milly, or to switch seats thereby mixing up the mingling, to scoot a baby, still in it's highchair, across two rows of tables so as to situate it closer to grandma (?). There was even hollering (yes, there was 'hollering') across the restaurant. There was kissing goodbye and harried moms. It was all very Felliniesque and it creeped my shit out.

*On re-read, this sounds pompous - I was going for sarcastic...

Proof That You Can't Believe Everything You Read On the Internet

2008-01-27T00:25:00.000-05:00

If you search "your sexy mom with big fat boobs" on AOL search, moi comes up Numero Uno out of 82,600:

Sorry to disappoint, Ft. Worth.

File Under: Fun with StatCounter

Overheard In the Kitchen

2008-01-24T21:25:00.000-05:00

Dillon: "Did you know I haven't been sleeping?"

Me: "What? No! Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I don't know."

"Have you been drinking energy drinks late in the day?"

"No."

(As I walk away, into the living room.) "Have you been taking naps during the day?"

Dillon and Mac: "WHAT?"

Me: "HAVE YOU BEEN TAKING NAPS DURING THE DAY?"

Mac: "Dude. I thought she said, 'Have you been masturbating during the day.'"

Dillon: "Me too. And, hey! I'll masturbate whenever I want!"

Need I Whine Further?

2008-01-24T08:58:00.001-05:00

One of Those "Huh" Moments...

2008-01-23T22:33:00.000-05:00

So I was driving home from work today minding my own business, singing Fergie on the radio, when just as I approached a downtown intersection, I heard sirens. I slowed down though the light had just turned green and we were barely driving at a snail's pace anyway, and looked 360-degrees around me. To my left, just arriving at the intersection, was an ambulance in full alert status - lights, siren, AND weird-emergency-vehicle-horn. So I put on my brakes and slowed down further.

And at precisely that moment a horn directly behind me blared! I looked in my rearview mirror to see who the inattentive asshole was. It was a blue-haired, barely-see-over-the-steering-wheel, walker-jockey who was driving her doddering husband (or lover - who am I to judge) around in their gold Impala.

And I drove the rest of the way home wondering: since when did Grandmas get so bitchy? I SOOOOO wanted to put Lucy in park, walk back to her driver's side window and ask her if the nasty-horn- sounding was really necessary and if that was how her mother raised her to behave. But I didn't. I just came home instead, chuckling at how crummy her life must be if she has to honk at those going slower than what she considers optimal intersection traversing velocity.

Paige & Mackenzie Play With the Camera

2008-01-19T20:43:00.001-05:00

We thought it was time for us to take a new "Girls Photo." It had been a while.

So we took one... two... and then what you can't see is that just before the shutter clicked in the third photo, Taiko jumped right in front of the camera. It was hi-lar-i-ous.

Especially since you can't see the dog at all!

Best Google Search Ever From My Statcounter

2008-01-18T17:00:00.000-05:00

"pics of grils in brole and panes"

Verbatim.

I come up #5 in this Google Search. I can only assume this poor, horny, illiterate bastard from Washington, DC was actually wanting to see "pictures of girls in bra and panties". Instead he found me.

...And I never wear bra and panties.

I Can't Make This Stuff Up

2008-01-17T19:49:00.000-05:00

Apparently, while 2008 is the Year of Paige, January is the Month of Misfortune for Paige. I'm assuming this will mean that the rest of the year will finally start looking up.

First, there was the Week of Broken Glass (door, fishbowl, almost door, almost window...),

Then, there was the Week of Household Breakage (curling iron, basement drain, humidifier, dishwasher, garage door*...),

And now we are looking at the the Week of Bathroom Incidents:

Tuesday. I woke up at 6am, jumped in the shower, and began my normal routine... wash and condition hair. Shave under arms. Rinse razor.

(And this is where things got dicey...)

When I swiped the razor (with new blades) behind me to catch some shower water, I got all 3 blades dangerously close to my right buttocks, and sliced myself from hip to mid-bootie. An 8-inch swath of stinging flesh. I checked to see if I was bleeding. Nope. But it stung! Check again. Nope! Finish showering and shaving the legs while periodically checking the bootie for a blood trail.

It wasn't until I got out that the extent of damage was obvious. All over my white towels.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to bandage your own butt? It's a logistical nightmare - not only the contortionism required, but also the practical problems involved here - do you use 1 huge bandage? Do you use several small band-aids? I decided on covering only the deepest areas cut and used 4 band-aids in the process. The rest of my day consisted of sitting and listening to clients for 7 1/2 hours, and driving for almost 3 hours. All while trying to ignore the sting on my right butt cheek.

Did I forget to tell you that after I got my butt bandaged that my hairdryer caught on fire? It did. The only good news here is that I was almost done drying my hair so it didn't look too heinous. I threw it away and am now using my travel hairdryer.

Late Night Edit: Holy cow! I almost forgot to tell you the part where insult was added to injury. Literally. The Neosporin I used to treat the Butt Cut gave me a rash. Now there is a swath of healing flesh under a layer of itchy-inflamed flesh. Sexy.

*Which actually wasn't broken. I was an idiot and set the snow shovel in front of the sensor. My dad had to come all the way (4 miles!) over here to figure it out for me. It's amazing I raised two children to teen-hood.

New Shoes to Stunt Your Growth For

2008-01-13T15:44:00.000-05:00

Chinese Laundry, Devote in Red and Teal...
I couldn't decide...

Franco Sarto, (unbelieveably also called) Devote. In black.

Crackin' Me Up

2008-01-13T00:02:00.000-05:00

So. Mackenzie asks me tonight, "Mom, can I start drinking coffee?"

And true to my Alternative-Parenting Style, and because I'm certain she won't like it, I say, "Sure."

"Ok, thanks."

At first, I just thought how sweet that she respects me enough to ask. And then I start to wonder why...

"Why do you want to drink coffee?"

"So I don't grow anymore."

Since last summer, she has surpassed me by 2 inches. I am thrilled with this. I hope her dad's DNA puts her closer to his 6-feet than my 5-feet. She, on the other hand, does not want to be bigger than me and has stated so on more than one occasion. I think it's sweet in a mildly disturbing sort-of-way. So I tell her, "Oh, Honey. I don't think coffee will really stunt your growth."

"I know, but I don't want to grow anymore."

"But why?"

"So I can still wear your shoes. You have great shoes."

Avoid Me

2008-01-06T16:02:00.001-05:00

Within one hour of getting home from work today, I:

smashed both of my pointer-fingers in a 200-pound* window...
got a metal splinter in my thumb and then couldn't find my splinter tweezers...
broke Mame's fish bowl, allowing 1 gallon of stinky fish-water to cascade over my cabinets, into my cabinets, onto the floor, under the stove, and leaving Mame floppping around perilously close to shards of glass...
and almost broke a pane of glass in my front door when I opened it too far, smashing it against a wrought iron candle holder...

You should just steer clear of me today.

*may be a slight exaggeration

Things I Don't Get

2008-01-05T21:28:00.000-05:00

Things I don't get:

I love popcorn. I hate popcorn flavored Jelly Bellies. *shiver*
Why I always find one piece of Christmas paraphernalia a week after I pack away Christmas.
The movie, "Chicken Little". But Isabella seems to love it.
Gin and Tonics.
My Linksys.
How my baby came to be 2 inches taller than I.
Why we have to have below zero weather. Fahrenheit.
...and on a related note, why my ancestors parked their lazy asses in Indiana...and why, after the first winter here, they didn't keep moving to anywhere warmer?!
6-year-olds - I don't 'get' them, but they sure do crack me up...

Isabella spent the night here last night. And she is full of it. She brought 6 movies and thought we were going to watch all of them. When I told her, after 2 movies ("The Pacifier", which may make me reconsider my low opinion of Vin Diesel, and "Chicken Little", which I had to stop watching after 15 minutes because 'Oh! The stupid!'), that it was time for bed, she looked at me and exclaimed, "But Auntie! We didn't watch all our movies!" It only took me about 5 minutes to convince her that it would take until morning to watch all of them and if we stayed up to watch them, we would get in trouble with Mommy. When I put her to bed, I asked her where she wanted to sleep: In Mackenzie's bed (which was unoccupied as Mac was at Wago's with Sydney), or in my bed. She said, "Your bed." But when we got in my room, she informed me that she wanted to sleep "on the ground".

"On the ground?"

"Yes, on the ground."

"On the floor?"

"Yes, on the floor. Next to your bed."

"Why?"

"I like it there."

(Ok, if you say so...)

So I piled up two sheepskins in an effort to make the hardwood less ... hard, piled a blanket on top of that, and added a pillow. She seemed satisfied and kissed me goodnight.

She only bounced up twice. Once, to tell me that she "always" has to know where her water is in case she gets thirsty at night. I reminded her of the conversation we had 10 minutes previous where I informed her that I had put her water (while she was watching me) on the floor, about 6 inches from her head so she could reach it whenever she wanted. And I put her back to bed. 15 minutes later, she bounced up to tell me that her pillow was "too squishy." It was. I prefer those feather pillows that thin out to nothing and then your head is lying right on the mattress, causing you to wonder why you even bothered with a pillow in the whole first place, and apparently that's not her thing. I looked for a foam pillow but I didn't have one so I told her I would just give her two. She seemed ok with this and went back to bed. She didn't bounce up again. I think it may be a record.

I slept fitfully all night, worrying that she would decide to climb up in my bed in the middle of the night, scaring the crap out of Taiko. I'm not certain how long he would growl before biting if someone tried to climb in my bed in the middle of the night. (Rapists, beware.) Even Bella. But she didn't, and he didn't, and she slept until almost 9:00. She is invited back.

And then, against my better judgement (because who can resist this face - if you can your heart is made of cold, cold steel):

...I let her eat pancakes with syrup on my sofa. I win the Coolest Aunt Award (Or the Clueless Aunt Award. It's debatable.).

She didn't even spill and and we had a great, great time.

Moving On, Then

2008-01-01T20:48:00.000-05:00

Have you ever felt like you were living in an endless loop of a Steve Martin movie? In the closing days of 2007,

the kids left me alone for 5 days while they visited their dad
the drain in the basement (and Dillon's man-cave) quit draining and consequently started flooding - I've carried about 5 buckets of water to the backyard in the past two days
my washing machine started leaking
I cut my finger with a knife eating cheese and crackers for dinner
Taiko and I conspired to lock me out of the house when I went out to gather some Christmas lights. I had neither coat nor shoes; phone nor car keys. After waiting for about an hour in 34-degree weather, I had to break a window to get in.
I learned the that tread-life on my tires is nearly shot
My favorite curling iron died a slow, agonizing death, and I've been walking around the past several days with bad hair
THFKAT* called to tell me he was bringing Mac home on the 2nd and would like to sit down to talk to me at that time. I haven't spoken to him since this day
and apparently, I've reverted back to my old habit of lists and bullets when things start to go wrong

But...

2007 marked the year that I gained my self-respect and independence back. The year that I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and remembered the strong young woman I once was. The year I taught my children a lesson in perseverance. Even with the drama and flooding and bad hair days, I think it was an ok year and I'm ready for 2008.

Because according to Annie, 2008 will be The Year of Paige. And we should all listen to her because she is smart.

So hang on tight everyone, because here we go!!!

*The Husband Formerly Known as T (remember this - I will not repeat it later)

Past "Considerations"

2008-01-01T00:02:00.013-05:00

“All you need is love.” - John Lennon

“I just like to smile. Smiling's my favorite .” -Buddy the Elf, Elf c. 2003

"Sometimes I think I should just keep my opinions to myself, she said, but someone has got to be the voice of reason." -Storypeople

"You don’t need to look for love, you only need to wait, for soulmates always find us. And just like a left foot needs a right foot, we all need a soulmate, and not unlike having two feet on the ground, it helps to be grounded before they arrive. And yet even if your goods are a little damaged, a true soulmate will always love you just the way you are. And remember...soulmates come in all shapes and sizes. They are family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and at their best they are our true loves." ~a bottle of Philosophy Soulmates Grapefruit Gelee (purchased for the wedding)

“…someone to whom we feel profoundly connected, as though the communication and communing that take place between us were not the product of intentional efforts, but rather a divine grace. This kind of relationship is so important to the soul that many have said there is nothing more precious in life." ~Thomas Moore on ‘Soulmates’

“What wouldn’t I do… for the right guy.” ~Gillian Owens, Practical Magic

"Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open." ~ John Barrymore

“In the arithmetic of love one plus one equals everything and two minus one equals nothing.” -Mignon McLaughlin

“Are you a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?” – Glinda the Good Witch, Wizard of Oz c. 1939

"Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts." - Charles Dickens

“Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious.” -Brendan Gill

"You get married at twenty, you're going to be shocked who you're living with at thirty." - Gregory House, MD

"A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other... maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever." - Dave Matthews

"Who says you can't go back, been all around the world and as a matter of fact
There's only one place left I want to go, who says you can't go home." - Bon Jovi

"I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that." ~Lloyd Dobler, Say Anything

2008 Reading List

2008-01-01T00:01:00.004-05:00

The Virgin's Lover by Phillipa Gregory
A Northern Light by Jennifer Donnelly
Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
Barefoot by Elin Hilderbrand
Overcoming Autism by Lynn Kern Kogel, Ph.D and Claire LaZebnik
Devil in the White City by Erik Larson (Hello. It's January 4th, 2009. I am still reading this book...Since October. Not. Good.)

OMG! Look at how sad this list is! And it's OCTOBER! I've been just so dang busy this year and every time I sit down to read in the evenings, I fall asleep. *shrug*

The Here and Now

2007-12-30T10:38:00.000-05:00

Did you ever have one of those days...?

Where you'd rather be somewhere else, with someone else, doing something else?

I felt like that all day yesterday, with the result that to keep my mind off of it, I worked from 8-4, then came home and scurried around until 1am. I took down my Christmas tree, unpacked the 12 boxes of books sitting in the corner of the dining room (finding a boat-load of socks, underwear and bras that the packers used for filler in the boxes), moved and filled a bookcase, redecorated the empty spaces my absent Christmas decorations left, cleaned up the kitchen, reorganized my sock, underwear and bra drawers (see above), and drank 2 glasses of wine.

Finally, at 1:17am, the 29th was over and I could go to bed. I think I fell asleep immediately, but slept restlessly and woke up with the same brooding thoughts that haunted me in my sleep. There is still much to do, and Dillon comes home today (Mac not until the 2nd), so I need to get moving. I'm hoping that the constant activity will help keep my mind off of what I'm missing and on the here and now.

Oh, Edna Mae...

2007-12-27T20:52:00.000-05:00

My mom is a hairdresser.

She has some Crazy clients.

Enter into evidence "Edna Mae":

Edna Mae returns her corn to the the store when the end of it is chewed on by bugs. The rest of us just cut that part off.

Edna Mae has returned bananas to the store because they turned brown.

Edna Mae has returned meat because she decided she didn't need all of the meat she purchased. You return sweaters when you buy too many - you don't return meat.

But today! Today my mom had a story that tops all the rest:

This morning, Edna Mae came into Mom's shop and told Mom about how, on the way there, two deer ran out in front of her car and she almost hit them. And she couldn't get her hair done yet because she had to call 9-1-1.

Mom said, "911?"

Edna Mae said, "Yes! Someone needs to know about those two deer! The could have caused me to wreck my car! Someone needs to do something!"

Mom tried to discourage her from calling 911. Mostly because Mom didn't need the aggravation of the Fire Department pulling up in front of her place of business with their Ginormous Red Fire Engine in response to Edna Mae's call.

But Edna Mae wouldn't listen. She called 911.

And she told them about how she was driving in her car and two deer ran out in front of her and how it was a dangerous situation and how someone needs to do something because someone could be killed.

And I asked Mom, "What did she want them to do? Send two cops out to talk to the deer? Did she want them to cuff them and haul them downtown? Did she think they would execute a man(deer)hunt? WHAT, EXACTLY DID SHE THINK THEY COULD DO ABOUT IT???"

Mom was speechless.

The dispatcher told Edna Mae that she had the wrong number.

And Edna Mae gave it up.

But now I feel so insecure that there are two rogue deer in town willy-nilly running in front of cars, recklessly trying to forage for food and risking my life for their own self-preservation!

I should call someone.

"The Time Has Come, the Walrus Said..."

2007-12-26T23:36:00.000-05:00

I didn't want to write because I didn't want to sound sad.

And I'm not sad, per se. (How do you spell per se?) I'm just a little weirded-out.

One year ago today I asked my husband of 15 years for a divorce.

Today, the kids left for their first visit with their dad since the divorce.

And I did not cry. (Mostly, anyway.)

I did:

balance my checkbook
pay bills
put plastic on 2 of the 8 windows in my living room (sexy)
corral dustbunnies
gather up Christmas paraphernalia
organize my office supplies
make Mackenzie's bed
eat all the peanut clusters and chocolate-dipped pretzels
take a bubble bath
go to bed early (but not fall asleep)
read (The Virgin's Lover)
catch another cold

I didn't know what else to do - I just knew I needed to keep moving. Mom called me and asked if I wanted to come over for dinner. But I ate leftover Gumbo at 3:00 so I wasn't hungry for dinner and I feel like crap, so I went to bed instead.

Tomorrow will be better.

Happy Holidays!

2007-12-24T11:59:00.001-05:00

From Paige, Dillon, Mackenzie and Taiko...

So I've Been a Little Preoccupied

2007-12-13T22:25:00.000-05:00

First, I bought this:

Then, I cut this:

Now I'm doing my damnedest to survive this:

All while working 6 days a week.

I'm open for suggestions.

But scratch the wine. I've already tried it and it doesn't really help.

Schooled By A Toddler

2007-10-28T20:54:00.000-05:00

So. I'm driving through Americus, IN.

There is a truck trying to make a left-hand turn into The Restaurant in Americus. I could pass on the shoulder on the right, except for the chicken...

...pecking at the side of the road.

A few hours later, I had a two-year-old girl-baby in my car that I was transporting to a visitation. We were chatting away, when I said, "Look, K*****! A green tractor!" (It was a John Deere out in a half-harvested corn-field.)

"Yes, a green Tractor!"

A half-a-mile down the road, I saw a red one:

"Look, K*****! A RED tractor!"

"That's not a tractor. That's a combine."

And she was right.

The Low-Down

2007-10-27T19:40:00.000-05:00

Seriously. Can we talk about how you working people do it? How do you work and cook and read and hang out with your kids and go to dive meets and clean the bathroom and do laundry? I haven't read a book since I started working. I haven't knit a scarf and here it is Winter (or at least Fall, and getting damn chilly). I should be balancing my checkbook right now. I have no idea how much money is in there, but I am certain it isn't much. I've been working 5-6 days a week, and usually house-hunting on one of my days off. But I can't make a damn decision so I'm still just hunting and driving my realtor batty. I thought I forgot to pay my my Verizon Wireless bill, so I paid it twice. Now I'm ahead. By $130. Someone hit Dillon's car in the parking lot of his school, while he was in class, and his car's been in the shop all week. Two-thousand dollars damage (rear bumper, tail-light, and fender). The police can't do anything about it with no witnesses.

Seriously. The kid has the Worst Luck.

I have to do two visitations and a transport tomorrow, to the tune of 13 hours and 230 miles. I've put almost 2,500 miles on Lucy in 6 weeks, and am almost due for another oil change. The kids both need teeth cleanings, but I haven't gotten around to checking my calendar and making the appointments. It's on my short list - to do this week (assuming I remember).

I keep thinking of great subjects to blog - funny things I saw, things that made me laugh.... But by the time I get home, I can't remember them. At. All. By the time I get home, my mind is blank. Maybe I'll get one of those Little Tiny Voice Recorders. Like on late night AsSeenOnTV commercials. Haven't you seen them? Because I can't write notes while driving on a two-lane country road. I've tried.

I'm still just hanging on by a thread, but my issues are less Emotional Hullaballoo and more just Regular Old Busy at the moment. I'm spread thin, but feel stronger than I have in years. I'm tired as Hell, but happier than I can remember being. I have a deadline in my head for a move-out date, whether it's into my Own Home or into a Rental. I haven't exactly concluded where yet, though I'm getting closer to a decision.

So it's all good.

A little crazy, but good.

So You Can Breathe Again...

2007-10-24T21:20:00.000-05:00

I picked Fergie's "Big Girls Don't Cry."

It's A Puzzler

2007-10-11T07:21:00.000-05:00

I can't decide if my new ringtone should be
"Big Girls Don't Cry", Fergie
or
"Save A Horse (Ride a Cowboy)".

John Deere Traffic Jam

2007-10-10T19:59:00.000-05:00

Remember how I said it was Harvesting Season around here? (Don't let my sniffing and coughing bother you...)

Can you believe that the past two weeks I've been driving my circles around Indiana, frequently stuck on a two-lane highway, behind this Combine, or that Sprayer, sometimes even a Tiller, making it nearly impossible for me to pass, while miles and miles passed slowly by outside my window. And during each day of said past two weeks I have been without my camera at the most opportune minutes.

So I concentrated and concentrated, and today I remembered to grab my camera on the way out the door. But do you think I saw a single John Deere on the road? No. There were plenty in the fields, but what's special about a green tractor in a field? And as I drove along today, I recalled that last week my drive was in a corridor of brown corn stalks. By contrast, this week, the crops are gone and Indiana plains have returned. The farmers have been busy harvesting their fields since I last drove today's route. I may have to wait for next year to get you a photo of a Combine on the highway.

Makes Me Laugh

2007-10-08T19:36:00.000-05:00