The Edge of Reason

Blue Jean Blues

Can we talk about blue jeans for a minute? It's a subject that makes me crazy for all sorts of reasons. And now that I'm quickly approaching the age of fifty, I am all kinds of worried about looking frumpy. Heaven forbid if I were to ever be found guilty of wearing "mom jeans" - those high waisted, pockets that sit above the butt jeans that are still sold nationwide (why, I ask you... why on earth are stores still selling these horrendous jeans? There have got to be other options available for these stores to put on their shelves). Needless to say, I went through my closet last summer and got rid of every pair of jeans that came relatively close to having a waist that sat above my muffin top.

Speaking of muffin top, this is another thing that makes me crazy. I'm smack dab in the middle of peri-menopause. My hormones are as out of control as a kid who is in puberty. We women get to go through a roller coaster of out of control hormones during our preteens, and then we get to do it all over again when we are in our forties and fifties. I find this to be beyond unfair. Anyway, due to raging hormones, I have a muffin top which now rests comfortably above the waist of my non-mom jeans. I don't know what is more unsightly - the muffin top or the mom-jeans that ride under my boobs. Either way, it's not a pretty sight.

While contemplating this subject of blue jeans, and after decimating my stash of old jeans, I had a conversation with a girl friend about the great jeans debate, during which we bemoaned the fact that no matter what we wish, our bodies will never look like they did thirty years ago. Hell, my body won't even look like it did twenty years ago. And I consider it a good day when my body closely resembles what it looked like ten years ago (this only happens when the mirror is fogged up after a hot shower). But I digress. So... I had this conversation with a friend and she mentioned that her favorite pair of jeans were purchased from the Loft. As soon as we were done talking, I rushed to my computer and logged on to loft dot com because, by gawd, if she said that the Loft jeans were cool, I was all over that (I have cool friends, what can I say?).

Sure enough, there were lots and lots of choices at the Loft. Most of the choices were either boot cut or boyfriend jeans. I liked the sound of boyfriend jeans (I swear, I will never grow up when it comes to boys), so that's what I looked at: BOYFRIEND JEANS. Buy one pair. Click. And then I anxiously awaited the arrival of my box of brand new jeans. Sure enough, three days later, the UPS guys showed up at my door with my box of jeans. It was a happy day for me and so I proceeded to dance and twirl my way upstairs to try them on. And low and behold.... drum roll please... they fit. Bonus that they were just a tiny bit loose, lightly distressed, very broke in - but not holey - and the length was perfect. SCORE!

That was three months ago. Since then, I have fallen in love with my boyfriend jeans. Several times I've kicked myself for not going back to the site and ordering another pair or two of these most perfect jeans on the planet. But they were kind of expensive, and my budget really doesn't allow for a whole lot of unnecessary expenditures, so I've held off on ordering more of the perfect jeans and I've just worn the one pair I own to death.

Well... I held off until Sunday night when I put the most perfect jeans in the dirty clothes hamper and realized that I wouldn't be wearing my favorite jeans until I did a load of laundry. Not such a big deal other than the fact that it takes well over a week for Jeff and I to have enough dirty jeans to make up a small load of wash. Sigh. I needed more boyfriend jeans, that's all there was to it. And so I logged onto loft dot com and did a search.... only to find that they were no longer shown in their inventory. OH NO! I had a moment of panic until I remembered that I'd kept my shipping information and I had the SKU number filed right in my desk. Whew. It's a good thing that I don't very often throw away needless bits of paper (rolleyes). And so armed with the handy SKU number, I did another search for the most perfect pair of jeans...

Here's what I found:

Do you see that price? And do you see the red print that says "take an additional 30% off" ...yeah, the price was less than $20. SCORE! Boyfriend jeans for me. How great is that? I don't wear them cuffed up, and I don't wear them with high heels, but gosh do I love these jeans. Did you notice that back belt-loop? What's up with that? I like it, but it's kind of weird. But thank goodness for that back belt-loop because without that little bit of weird, I wouldn't have known for certain that these were THE boyfriend jeans that I find to be so perfect. That belt-loop was the clue - once I saw that, I knew I'd found the boyfriend that I have grown to love so much.

And so there you have it. A blue jean success story with a happily ever after ending. In all the years that I have been shopping for and buying jeans, I have never been so excited about a silly bit of denim. But I am. And now you know.

No more blue jean blues for me. I'm a happy girl with a couple of boyfriends in her closet!

Solitary Time

A few years ago, I announced to my family that I was going to re-do the spare bedroom. The project included gutting out the room, painting the walls and sewing a new window topper. It was a big project and I told my kids that they were not to interrupt me while I worked. Needless to say, they interrupted me - a lot. Their agenda was not the same as my agenda and, in spite of my best intentions, the task took a long time to complete due to all the interruptions. When the room was finished, my family acted as though I'd abandoned them by going on trip around the world, when reality was that I had only locked myself in a bedroom for seven days. While I was locked in the room, I listened to a book on tape. It was heavenly to have someone read to me while I worked, and when the room was done, I wished that I had more time to myself: solitary time - it seemed like a pipe dream at the time.

I think all mothers feel this way once in a while; sometimes more often than not. There were years when my greatest desire was to take a bath without interruption. Just a bath. That's all I wanted to do. But it was a huge request because, as all mothers know, closing a door and locking the kids out is an open invitation for interruptions. We mothers are in demand and the little people in our lives tend to need us at exactly the moment we wish for Calgone to take us away. Solitary time is not a phrase to be used in conjunction with the word motherhood. The two do not go together.

These days I have a lot of time to myself. My kids are away at college and my husband works in our home office all day long. My time is my own and I can pretty much do whatever I want every day. This is what I wished for all those times when I was overwhelmed with motherhood - solitary time. And now it is here.

Some may wonder how the transition is going. I, too, questioned how I would handle this new phase in my life. I was afraid that I'd be bored, or lonely, or lost. But I'm happy to report that I've experienced none of those feelings. Instead, I feel liberated... free... HAPPY! Life is good, and I think the reason I'm so happy is because I know that I did the best I could with the years my kids were at home, and now it's my turn.

Now that I have this longed for solitary time, I get to spend it doing what I love the most (next to raising my kids, because, well... we are supposed to love doing that) - I sew and quilt and putz around the house. And my house is clean, clean, clean! No one ever messes it up. Things stay where they are supposed to stay. Counters are clear, dishes are always done, the bed is made every morning. And because my house is clean all the time, I actually have more time to do the things I want to do. For the past three weeks, I've been working on this quilt:

I was so afraid that I wouldn't finish it before Thanksgiving since it turned out to look very autumn-y in appearance and autumn-y colors don't coordinate with my Christmas decorations.

At first glance, the pattern looks quite simple. I used a layer cake and a jelly roll from the Sandy Gervais Awesome collection by Moda to make the quilt. But what made this quilt challenging for me was that I attempted to free motion stitch a floral design in each block. This is what I ended up with:

And here is what it looks like on the back:

I selected the stitch design after reading this book. The author lies! It is not easy. I just learned how to free motion stitch this year, and I still struggle with keeping my stitch length even and uniform. To attempt an actual design in addition to maintaining stitch control is still beyond my ability. But I tried. And I learned. And I will do better next time. And there will be a next time because, like I said, I have nothing but time to play now, and this is how I plan to spend my time.

Once I figured out that a free motion floral design was beyond my realm of expertise, I decided to make my own template and chalk the lines onto each block. Thankfully, this worked well and I was able to execute the design I had originally envisioned. Grant it, the execution of this design took me hours and hours because the chalking was very time consuming, but I'm pleased with the results.

To create the binding, I used the left over scraps from the jelly roll. I've never used this technique before, but I really like how it turned out. I think it looks very quilt-y:

Before John left for college, I began to prepare for my solitary time. During the summer I purchased enough fabric to make four quilts. I figured that it would take me an entire year to complete those quilts. What I didn't factor into the equation was that I would have time, time, and more time to sew. What used to take me weeks and months to make I can now accomplish in days. I'm not complaining - it goes right back to those words freedom and liberating. I enjoy waking up in the morning knowing that I won't have interruptions. I like being able to spend hours alone in my sewing room. I listen to music and watch DVDs all day long (well, I actually just listen while I sew) and I gauge my time not by a clock, but by how many CDs or DVDs I've played that day. This quilt took me two and a half seasons of Gilmore Girls to make, which adds up to be sixty episodes of Gilmore Girls. That equals about forty hours of sewing - forty hours that I didn't have before my kids went to college. I love those forty hours. Hooray for me that there are lots of forty hours in the future.

I think that we unknowingly prepare for transitions when we long for something that is beyond our reach. Had I not yearned for solitary time for so many years, I would not appreciate it now. But I did yearn for it. I craved it and I dreamed about it, and when it dawned on me that it was finally within reach, I prepared for it in earnest. And now that it's here, I don't take it for granted. Instead, I give thanks for each and every free moment that allows me to further explore the things I haven't had time for in years. And to be perfectly honest - I am loving every single minute of my newfound solitary time.

Jumping right back in...

Has it really been almost a year since I last posted anything? Yep. It's been that long. So now the burning question of the day is this:

Do I jump right in with a new post or do I try to play catch up?

After asking myself this question all day, I've chosen the jump right in option. I'll play catch up later because the goal is to get back to the business of writing, not to share my life story (at least not all at one time).

So here we are - together again. I promise I will attempt to make some semblance of sense in my continuing attempt to share my thoughts and observations. But just know that when I'm not making sense, I will be blaming it on menopause. Every. Single. Time.

My boobs were squished today. Not in a good squishy way, but in the mechanical way that is otherwise known as a mammogram. Let me explain (not about the boobs, but about the reason behind the mammogram):

I'm now an official Empty Nester. Both kids are away at college and for the first time in over twenty years, my time is my own. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, however I want. And if I don't want... then I just don't do. And in keeping with my personal rule of full disclosure, I will admit right now: Empty Nest is my idea of pure bliss! It is also All About Me. Take it or leave it,  because that's what you are going to be seeing me write about... stuff about me... which actually makes sense in that the subtitle of this blog is "the world according to me."

I do so love it when I make sense.

Back to the mammogram. The reason I had a mammogram is because I'd not had one in almost two years, and since I am now living in a world that is all about me, I decided that it is time to make sure that I take care of me so that the me I'm all about will be around for a long time to come. You know... so that I can continue to enjoy my own company in this new empty nest that I find to be so blissful.

Come to find out, I'm right on target with this mammogram because October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. So there you go - I'm aware of my boobs. Who knew?

The imaging place I went to was giving out bookmarks and wrist bands. I like them. Not because of my boobs, but because they are pink and pink is my favorite color. So I took one of each home with me. I even tried on the bracelet. And then I took it off. Why did I take it off, you ask? Well, I took it off because I was afraid of jinxing myself. I'm sort of funny when it comes to jinxes. I don't like them. I'm always afraid of bad results with the jinx. And the more I thought about it after putting the bracelet on, the more I started freaking out because I pinky square promise you that I do not want to jinx my boobs. I like my boobs just how they are, and there are no jinxes allowed when it comes to my boobs. In fact, just writing about my boobs may jinx them... hmmm... that's not good either. Crap.

Anyway. There you go. I'm back. My boobs have been squished. It's all about me this time around. And may this be the start of better writing habits and renewed friendships.

Oh. And don't forget your boobs. Make an appointment to get them squished. It's Breast Cancer Awareness Month and that means that it is okay to make it all about you!

 

 

It Boggles

I was boggled, but now I'm not. Which is a very poor explanation of where I went for all those weeks and months, but that is how I look at it. Every day for the past month I've woke up and said to myself, "Self, you need to write on the blog today." And every day for the past month, I've procrastinated because I was boggled.

Here's the deal:

• I was boggled about the redundancy of Facebook and blogging since most of what I post on the blog is now shared in brief status updates on Facebook, and most people who read this blog are my Facebook friends (well, not my mom - she doesn't Facebook, and of course she reads my blog... she's nice that way). But with the exception of my mom, who wants to see my pictures twice and read about things more than once?
• I was also boggled about how to be myself without crossing the line of sharing things regarding my teenagers that they would not want me to share - although what they do most certainly affects me in a direct way. And I strongly feel that because their actions affect me, I have every right to talk about those things. Still, it's a conundrum.
• Additionally, I was boggled because I just can't seem to figure out how much to share and what to keep to myself, because the truth is: I don't like to sugarcoat things and I could never pretend to be someone I'm not - that's just not my nature. But the question remains, "Do I want strangers to know this stuff about me?"
• And finally, I was boggled because I wondered if maybe my blogging days had run their course now that my kids are almost grown up. I mean, really... who wants to read about boring me all the time? Seriously, all I do is worry about teenagers or celebrate their lives. And if I am not doing that, I'm crafting, which really isn't all that exciting unless you are me and find great joy in playing with fabric and yarn.

So that was the boggle in a nutshell. However, I have recently heard from a handful of people (okay, eight people to be exact) saying that they miss my blog. And so I figure if there are eight people who really want to know what is going on in my life, I am more than willing to share because the truth of the matter is, I miss my blog because it is a written journal of who I am, who I want to be, and what I am doing along the way.

So here I am. It feels kind of weird to be writing again. I think I've lost my groove. I know I lost my password because it took me forever to log in. I hope I remember how to do this.

Before I go any further, I want to share a favorite picture from my adolescent years:

I recently learned that my friend Alison Jones Kennedy passed away suddenly due to a heart attack caused by a virus. (Alison is in the back row on the right. I am in the back row on the left.) My heart aches with the loss of such a beautiful person, and I am still struggling with the reality that Alison is no longer on this earth. My prayers are with her two young daughters, Madeleine and Gabrielle. It is for them that I weep the most.

Last week as I scanned photos for the memorial service, I felt the pull of home - my childhood home - that place where all the memories of my youth reside. I now live far away from that home, and although I have created a home in Virginia, my heart will always be in Washington with my family and childhood friends. Throughout the week I corresponded with the people who helped shape the woman I've grown to be, and I felt such a longing to be with them because, as my friend Rick said, "we grew up in a movie and the kind of childhood we had cannot be found anymore." He is right. We had an idyllic childhood and only now, as adults, do we fully appreciate how lucky we were to grow up together wrapped in a cocoon of innocence and joy. We were the lucky few, and we do not take that for granted. Our friend Alison was a integral part of our youth and she will always be remembered as the girl who touched lives with her inner beauty, shared her generosity of spirit, and painted the world with her artistic nature. Rest in peace sweet Alison.

Now I will paint my blog with some of my recent colorful creations. I'm not the artist that Alison was (and boy was she talented), but I muddle my way through as I continue to play with fabric every day.

This summer I made my first two baby quilts. I gifted them to two of my scrapping friends - one who had a baby girl, and the other whose toddler had open heart surgery. I've not made baby quilts before (well, I did make one when I was expecting Alyssa, but that was so long ago that it seems like a dream). Making baby quilts is fun! There is something about making a warm cuddly for a little person that just makes me smile. Here are snapshots of the two little people quilts I made:

I also designed a my first circle pattern to use as a centerpiece for my kitchen table. Figuring out how to create a perfect circle was a real challenge and I was quite pleased that after much trial and error I actually figured out how to do this:

 

And of course I had to make more Greek letters for Alyssa. She has now come up with the brilliant idea of ordering Vera Bradley cloth napkins so that we can use the fabric to make the letters. All of the girls in her sorority now want Vera Bradley letters and I have an on-going list of orders coming in. The Vera Bradley letters are shown in the tee-shirt on the right:

In October I attended a quilt show (I went two days in a row, because one day was not enough!). While there, I found all sorts of nifty things to make. This is one of the quick quilt patterns that I purchased. The three panel mini quilts can be switched out with the seasons. I made the autumn scene first. Next up is JOY for Christmas and then I want to design a heart themed pattern for Valentine's Day. I've discovered that making my own patterns is almost as fun as sewing:

 

And now it is the end of fall, which means it is time for my annual holiday sewing spree. I am in the process of making three Merry Christmas wall hangings to give to my extended family units as Christmas gifts. The only glitch is that I need to have these completed by Thanksgiving so that they can be used during the holidays (I plan to give them to my mom and sister-in-law on Thanksgiving day when they are here to celebrate. Yes, you heard that right! My mom will be here for Thanksgiving, and if you know me at all, you have to know that I am over the moon excited for this rare event). I'm making progress, but still not done - this project is far bigger than I ever imagined. But the challenge has been good for me and the results are turning out quite nice.

 

Note that in this picture I am wearing gloves. John took the picture because he could not believe that I wore "Michael Jackson" gloves when I sewed. The reason I wear the gloves is because they have grippers on the fingertips and they help me rotate the fabric without having it bunch up. I LOVE my Michael Jackson gloves, but I will admit that I really do look like a dork when I wear them. Since this picture was taken I have gotten my hair cut - which really does help alleviate some of the dork factor.

So there you have it. My life in a nutshell. Alyssa is still attending George Mason University. She started her first student teaching this semester and loves it even more than she imagined. John is a senior at DHS and we have managed to dodge the H1N1 virus with the help of Tamiflu (my security blanket - thank God for a doctor who believes in preventative measures). So far this year we have done the senior picture thing, the homecoming thing, and the SAT thing. And all I can say about that is Alyssa was much easier than John because she took charge of these details; all I had to do was pay. With John, I am having to be a lot more "hands on" when it comes to the finite details of senior life. But, because I am well aware that each of these events is a "last time" experience for me, I am cherishing every single opportunity I have to spend time with my son. 

Back to the boggle - it wasn't so bad, which is apparent in the length of this post, which leaves me wondering why I allowed myself to be boggled in the first place.

My Simple Life

Summertime, and the living is easy. I wish this was something I could say every single day. Yet the truth is, life gets in the way and we often forget to just sit back and relax.

But relax is exactly what we have been doing for the past several days - and I've got to admit: it has been wonderful.

It all started when Jeff asked me to join him on a trip to the Home Depot - not my idea of a great date, and definitely not something on my "relaxing" agenda, which included reading, reading, and more reading. But once we got to the Home Depot, we had a lot of fun. The intention was to pick out some new hanging flower pots for our deck.... we ended up not with flowers at all, but instead, with new deck furniture - and that is when the relaxing really began. As far as dates go, our trip to the Home Depot rates right up there!

I wanted to keep my Adirondack gliding chairs because 1) they are comfortable and outdoorsy, and 2) they were an anniversary gift that I gave to Jeff eight years ago, thus, they have sentimental value in spite of their lack of flair and style. What we decided was to work around the Adirondack chairs by adding to the seating with a casual grouping that would be inviting but not too fancy (we are not really fancy folks). What we now have is, in my opinion, as close to perfection as I had ever hoped for: seating for six, with a mix of the old and the new.

From the moment we unloaded the furniture (an adventure in and of itself because we had to rent the Home Depot truck and unload everything ourselves), things just got better and better. All of the following pictures were taken from our deck over a period of three days:

It never ceases to amaze me that although we live in a subdivision in the suburbs there are always wild animals in our vicinity. We see fox, deer, hedgehogs, raccoon, rabbits, skunks (not my favorite animal - and there are a LOT of skunks around here), turtles, and all sorts of other creatures great and small. Since I will always be a farm girl at heart, it delights me when I am able to watch the animals.  And clearly, I get a kick out of taking pictures of them at every opportunity. I only wish I was better at photography and that I would be more prepared because usually, by the time I run in the house and grab my camera, the animals have disappeared. Well... not the turtle... those things move slow as all get out and I could take naps during their road crossing tendencies.

When we lived in Washington state, opossum were a common sight. I can't say that I miss them, because I don't - I find opossum to be rather creepy and really ugly (although as a child, I actually tried to take a baby opossum in and make a pet out of it - the opossum was MEAN and when we took it with us in a shoe box on a car ride to my best friend Darci's house, it got out of the shoe box and chewed the holy heck out of the upholstery in their car. Nasty things, those opossums!). Another animal that was a current sighting in Washington state was the black bear - these bear were not large, they were just chubby creatures who lumbered along. Since we've moved to Virginia, I have yet to see a bear or any kind - and I do miss the bear (sorry, Mom, I know you have all kinds of bears by your house and that they wreck havoc with the trash and whatnot, but I still miss them and I'm hoping to see a whole lot of bears the next time I visit).

To end this meandering, wandering, relaxing, nothing entry, I include a final picture of my hibiscus plants in full bloom. I'm a bit insulted that the hummingbirds are not in the least bit interested in these plants - they won't even stick their nose inside a single flower - I've made it far to easy for them to get their food for free and without effort. But in spite of the fact that the hibiscus were purchased to lure the birds, I am enjoying the multiple new blooms that appear each and every day. And now that I have my comfy, cushy new deck furniture, I will be spending even more time outside enjoying the hibiscus, the hummingbirds, the deer, my dogs, and what really has become my simple life.

The Hummingbirds

Last week we saw all kinds of stormy weather in Virginia, which did nothing to energize my soul, but did everything for the flowers on my deck. After the rains ended, one of my hibiscus plants went crazy with blooms (the other hibiscus seems to have a dormant state of mind - it is a stubborn plant and I've not seen a bloom on it since the first week). And so when the sun finally came out, I decided to bribe the hummingbirds: I moved the hibiscus plants directly under the feeder, hoping to lure the birds to my deck. Prior to and during the rain the feeder had not seen any action - so Jeff suggested that I replace the nasty water, which was a great idea considering that upon close inspection, the water had nasty crud floating in it. Note to self: sugar water must be changed weekly.

I realize that in the grand scheme of life, hibiscus plants and hummingbirds are pretty low on the list of exciting things. But for me, these are always a highlight of my summer - so on my list, they rate right up there. On Sunday, I decided to go on a bird watch. I took my book, my cushy seat cover, and two cameras out on the deck and I waited. And waited. And waited. I was almost ready to give up when all of a sudden... HUMMERS! We had more birds come to visit than I could keep track of. It was thrilling, and so worth the wait.

The following pictures were taken using my Pentax DSLR and my 70-300mm zoom lens (I had to get out the big stuff for this project!). I set the shutter on the auto click setting (I have no idea what that setting is called... it's the one where you push it down and it clicks over and over again), and then I focused the frame using the portrait setting to blur out the background. From there, I just waited for the birds to show up while I had the camera stuck to my eyeball (and yes, I am well aware of the fact that I am a dork to spend an entire afternoon looking through a camera lens waiting for a hummingbird sighting).

These are my three favorite photos:

 

Since Sunday, my deck has seen a ton of hummers. I can now sit at my kitchen table and watch them right up until dark. There is a breed of this bird that is turquoise in color. One summer, that breed was a constant companion. So far this summer, I've only seen one. So now my new goal is to get a picture of the turquoise hummingbird. I have no idea whether I will have the patience to wait and watch with a camera all summer long, but I might... it will depend on the weather (must be good) and my energy level (must be low) - two things that have to be in sync for the kind of patience that would be required for such a shot. The ideal photo would be of the turquoise hummingbird inside a peach hibiscus bloom - but I realize that is setting my goals a little high; I am not a good photographer, nor do I have the kind of patience that may be required to capture that shot. However, if some odd stroke of luck occurs, I will be sure to post the picture. Heck, if I were to get a picture of that, I would probably have it enlarged and framed just so that I could enjoy the beauty for the rest of my days.

To be honest, I really don't like birds at all. But these hummingbirds literally take my breath away. They truly enhance my summer days with their beauty and fragility. And in the grand scheme of my life - pretty things and beautiful flowers are very high on the list of things that make me smile.

My new love with Cover Girl products!

I've always said that I like pretty things - I enjoy surrounding myself with color of every hue, and that includes playing with make up, because make up provides an artist's palette of colors that can be blended and applied in a hundred different ways.

Alyssa has always been fascinated by make up, too. Last week, while looking for an old book, I stumbled across a little photo album that held pictures of days long gone. This one was my favorite discovery - it shows Alyssa's first make up application. She was four years old:

These days, Alyssa is much more adept at make up application. I keep asking her to show me how she does her eyes (she is a pro at blending), but she tells me that the technique is not appropriate for a middle age "mom." Harrumph. I don't appreciate being called middle age, but I do get her point, so I just keep muddling through playing with all the things I have - and believe me, I have a lot of make up!

For some women, shoe shopping is a thrill. For others, clothing shopping makes them happy. And for a lot of my friends, it's purses and handbags that make for a good shopping excursion. But for me, it's the make up. Whenever I am feeling down or blue, or even mad or frustrated, I make a beeline for the make up counter. Cosmetics are such a fun thing to shop for since there is no trying on (thus allowing me to continue to ignore those 8 extra pounds), it always fits (size never matter when looking at eyeshadow or lipstick), and make up is fun to play with once I get home.

I've got a drawer filled with the stuff, and I have yet to decide whether that means I am mad all the time, or if I just have a problem with over-buying make up. Either way, this drawer is Alyssa's favorite drawer in the house. She loves to dig though it and try each and every color. I don't often share my cosmetics, but I've been known to give a lot of them to Alyssa, knowing that she is far more skilled with application than I will ever be.

Note that most of the items in this drawer are Estee Lauder or Bobby Brown products... for you see... unknowingly, I have become a make up snob. It wasn't intentional.... it just happened. And I'm pretty sure the reason it happened is because those are the cosmetic counters that have the most visual appeal when I am on one of my make up extravaganzas.

So what does all this have to do with anything? Well, it has THIS to do about THAT - I've recently made two new cosmetic discoveries. These discoveries are so great that I need to share them with anyone who buys cosmetics - because these discoveries are not for snobs. They are for the everyday girl who just wants to pretty herself up a bit. They are for the girl who is on a budget. They are for the girl who buys her make up at Rite Aid and Target and Walmart. These products are inexpensive, but oh-so-wonderful. These products are for everyone!

How did I find out about these Cover Girl wonders?  Not from shopping, but rather from my other addiction that is known as reality television. Specifically, America's Next Top Model. The show is sponsored by Cover Girl, and last week the models made their season finale Cover Girl commercial (they do this with the end of each cycle, so I've seen my share of Cover Girl products on the show). Last year, they promoted Lash Blast Mascara - THE BEST MASCARA I have ever used, bar none. I love Lash Blast and I will never buy another brand - it was the first drug store cosmetic I had purchased in over fifteen years, and I'm here to say that this is not the Cover Girl product we knew from high school. This is high-end, fabulous, equal to the big names cosmetics.

And so it was that last week I saw another new Cover Girl product unveiled. This time it was a lipstain - NOT to be confused with lipstick, because this lipstain is nothing like lip stick. Yesterday, I put the Outlast Lipstain on at noon. I also applied C.O.Bigelow Menta Lip Shine numerous times throughout the day because I have an obsession with the stuff. The Mentha Shine covered the lipstain, but did not lift it or lighten it. At 5:00 last night, my lips were still stained from just one application at noon! Happy, happy, joy, joy! I don't like lipstick all that much because it always seems to feel gooey on my lips - but with the lipstain... it didn't budge.... not on my teeth... not on the tube of Mentha Shine... and not on my coffee cup or soda can. And the best news was that it didn't feel gooey in the least. I couldn't even tell I had it on. This stuff is a miracle.

Really, I'm just a girl doing the things that girls do: I raise my kids, I tend the dogs, I manage the house, I sew when I find time, I read books and watch t.v. as mindless escape.... and all the while, I want to feel pretty, because as my mom always told me, "Pretty is, is pretty does." And my belief is that pretty comes from the inside out - and if we can find something that works on the outside, it really does help us feel prettier on the inside.

Cover Girl... my new favorite cosmetic company!

Weathering the storm, but there was a break in the clouds.

 

This is the gift John gave me on Mother's Day. It is a poem he wrote a few months ago (thus, the original tear-out sheet from his personal notebook). I cried when I read the words, taped to a card he made just for me, because what he offered was more than a gift... it was a glimmer of hope, and it tells me that he is looking beyond his own problems and that he is aware of the mistakes he's made. And so although we are still weathering the storm, for a moment I saw a break in the clouds.

Dear Mom, I don't know why you cry
so many times, so I ask you why.

When I look into your eyes
it's then I see all those tears fell over me
for your fear of losing me.

Mom, I gotta tell the truth,
my love for you goes through the roof.

But you raised me to be a man.
Against all odds, I can tell you that I am.

A few weeks ago, my mom offered some wise advice: she told me that in spite of the difficulties we are having with John, it is important for me to not let those problems consume my every waking hour - because if I were to do that, I would 1) lose myself and begin to resent my son, and 2) give John power to control my life... both things I do not want to see happen. My mom's advice was accompanied with the gentle walking suggestion (which I listened to loud and clear and implemented immediately).

And so in keeping with the theory, "Mother knows best," I decided that I wanted to surround myself with flowers this summer. Flowers are happy things. Flowers are pretty things. Flowers represent growth and beauty. Flowers are good!

Planting flowers sounds simple enough. But for a girl who doesn't enjoy gardening and who would prefer to read a book rather than dig in the dirt, surrounding myself with flowers has become quite a project. The solution to my "I hate gardening" hang up was to use clay pots and plant flowers that could be placed on my deck... the very place where I read my books! It was a win-win all the way around.

When I told Jeff about my flower project, the first thing he did was go out and buy me two hibiscus trees (or are those bushes? I have no clue... because... well... I don't garden). The only thing I know about hibiscus plants is that hummingbirds love them. And although I don't like birds, I do like hummingbirds because they are so delicate.

 

So far, no hummingbirds. But to entice them, Jeff gave me this for Mother's Day:

After we were set up with the hibiscus plants, we ventured to Home Depot to check out the garden center (a place I am not very familiar with). Here are the flowers we decided to plant - we used clay pots that I had stored under our deck, and we recycled the potting soil that Alyssa used last year.

And finally, because I take everything my mom says as the gospel truth, I thought that biking would be a fun thing to do during the summer months. Yesterday, Jeff gave my bicycle a good scrub and a tune up. Here I am taking it for a quick spin before gearing up for our first ride of the season:

I've got to hand it to my mom - she really does know best! And although we are still weathering the storm, following her advice has allowed me to step away from the storm for a few moments at a time, and that has helped me regroup and find a sense of balance.

When all is said and done, sometimes a break in the clouds is just enough to help see us through life's difficult moments. And flowers... flowers make everything better!

PSA for parents of pre-teens and teens - my personal experience

Pre-post note: This is a very serious subject, and my hope is that if even one person who reads this entry learns something new, my mistakes will not be in vain. And because I take this so seriously, I share no photos today, as to not detract from what I have to share. I pray that there are no judgments passed and that this entry is read with the sincere intent in which it is shared.

Court update in a nutshell: Today John had a court appearance to be arraigned for a misdemeanor crime committed by a minor. He now faces trial on June 1st. The judge appointed him a court ordered attorney; she entered a not-guilty plea, in spite of the fact that John told her he was guilty of possession of marijuana. So we take it from here.

A personal note: A sincere and heartfelt thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for all of the kind thoughts and prayers that have been said in our behalf. And a special thank you to Heather for texting me while I was waiting in the courtroom hallway close to hysterics, pacing back and forth for two full hours. Heather, I do so love you! Thank you for being my special BFF - you give me so much more than I will ever be able to reciprocate, and for that, I know I am blessed beyond measure.

And more special thank yous to every single person who took precious time out of their busy lives to comment on my last blog entry - you shared your hearts with me, and I was comforted by your words of kindness and support. I read each and every word and was uplifted and encouraged by everything you shared. Your words offered peace in a time of great need, and although I have not responded to your individual messages, I hold them dear to my heart... please know that when you shared your words, you lifted my spirits and gave me much needed courage.

The specifics in more detail: The judge talked to John about how serious the punishment would be if he pleads guilty: fine, community service, possible time served in juvenile detention center, potential expulsion from school, and loss of driver's license. John is prepared to pay the fine; he knows he will have to do community service. The detention center thing sort of blew his mind and scared the bejeevers out of him, as did the expulsion from school. But since John DOESN'T EVEN HAVE HIS DRIVERS PERMIT, let alone a driver's license - that part doesn't faze him. But the judge didn't want him to accept the [potential of] a full penalty without representation of an attorney - which will cost us a freaking fortune - so she entered the not-guilty plea and ordered a trial. Jeff is furious. I'm just sad. John is pretty quiet about it, but I've not really had a chance to talk with him since she gave her ruling. One of the kids who were involved in this whole mess (the driver of the car) didn't even show up! The cop was a no-show, too, and we are wondering if that may have something to do with her ruling?????

My observations after living this nightmare: I write this as the mother of a 17 and 18 year old, and I share my story as my own way of putting it out there by offering a public service announcement in regard to teenagers today, because to be very honest, these are things I did not know until recently. These practices apply to middle school, high school, and college age children, who are our leaders of tomorrow, and our hope for the future. I had no idea these things were happening until this week, and thus, I believe that other parents may be as clueless as I was until my world fell apart. So here you go - my personal experience in all its gory details.

I preface the following by saying emphatically, "Good kids make bad choices. And, although bad choices are often part of growing up, parents need to be aware of the potential mistakes that can be made - whether it be due to peer pressure, depression, spur of the moment decisions, or just plain rite of passage." When we are talking about our own children, ignorance is not bliss. Education is, therefore, the key.

In the last week, I have learned that it is very common for kids to put the alcohol in everyday, common containers and take those common containers to school and to public places. Examples: vodka goes in a water bottle because it is clear, Kahlua goes in a to-go coffee cup because it looks like coffee, and the cool thing known as "puckers" (these are the vibrant colored liquors that are watered down) go in Gatorade bottles because it looks like a sports drink. The kids then openly carry these containers at school, at the mall, at the movie theaters, etc., enabling them to drink alcohol throughout the day. Rarely are they caught because they pass the containers around and they hide them in their backpacks and their purses; often they even don't try to hide them... but rather carry them proudly out in the open as a way to look cool, be cool, and get a buzz. However, the truth is that the kids are drinking these beverages boldly in the hallways of the school, in the public areas of the mall, and in plain sight elsewhere, because the containers actually look like everyday beverages and no one suspects otherwise. This is a BIG problem and it is becoming a very common practice among middle school, high school, and college age students. I had no idea. Now I know. But still... it takes me by surprise.

John's crime was in relation to possession of marijuana. However, the kids he was with when committing this crime were busted for possession of alcohol (vodka in a water bottle tucked inside a girl's purse), and I sincerely believe chances are that when there is one illegal substance, there will be others, and that all illegal substances can lead to a road of [potential] destruction. The kids who smoke pot most certainly hang with the kids who drink. And to believe that one activity is exclusive of the other is equal to hiding a head in the sand. As a parent of two teens, I refuse to hide my head in the sand. My eyes are wide open, and now I have to figure out what to do with this information... and believe me, it's not easy, because this is out of my realm of experience. I'm sort of grasping at straws with this new-found information.

And so I am sharing these things, not to air my dirty laundry, but because today weighs heavy on my mind as I spent an entire morning - 4 long hours - in court with my 17-year-old son who was busted for possession of an illegal substance in January. As I said, today he pleaded guilty, but the judge did not accept his plea and she administered a NOT guilty plea... and so the kicker is that with an impending trial, this is just the beginning of a bad choice that John made back in January.

Trying to do the right thing when this happened, I did punish my son - I didn't allow him to test for his learner's permit, and he lost all "freedom" privileges, including having friends over, going to friends houses and dating. He also lost all source of income from me - I now give him ZERO money. He also has to undergo random drug and alcohol testing administered by me  - via an Rx from his doctor that I requested by phone. Note that anyone can make this request, so if you have suspicions, make the request - be prepared, because to it is much better to be safe than sorry. I wish that I would have done this last year when my gut told me that "something" was off.

Anyway... I digress... that was it as far as punishment at home - those punishments seemed appropriate at that time, since he was home-bound and unable to attend high school due to his illness, and since the random drug testing now hangs over his head and is in his face every single day since he never knows when I am going to stop at the lab and have him pee in a cup (and I have done so... so these are not empty threats) - so in my mind, the punishment fit the crime; he is broke, he is without driving privileges, he has lost my trust, and he is still stressing because these things are only the beginning of his consequences.

Today, the punishment continued in that he had to spend the morning in court. He was so nervous that he was shaking. He chose to wear dress clothes with a tie as a show of respect for the court (his idea, not mine). And he took his earring out so that the judge would not form an opinion based upon his appearance (again, his idea, not mine). And still, the result of his poor decision now means that he has to go to trial - which is even more punishment all these months after the fact - all this for "possession" (he did test clean when the cops caught him - so he just had it in his possession... but that is still a misdemeanor).

And so when all is said and done, his punishment will be even more than ever imagined because he will have a fine to pay, perform community service, worry about possible expulsion from school, and there is a slim chance that he will have to spend time sleeping in a juvenile detention center. Additionally, he won't be able to get his driver's license for 6 months after he applies. So by the time he is finally able to drive, he will be well over 18 years old.

My take on this: his mistake, his consequence. My prayer is that this will be a life lesson, because if I allow myself to think otherwise, I will fall apart, so I am holding tight to the consequences for actions theory. Am I mean? Possibly. But it is the only way I know how to approach this living nightmare.

One thing that seemed to be very effective in John's situation was when he witnessed me crying. I told him that I loved him unconditionally and that I understood that mistakes are made - but at the same time, I told him how very disappointed I was that he had chosen to make such a serious mistake. I then informed him that he had to earn back my trust and that it would take a lot of effort on his part for me to be able to trust him again. In turn, he cried, apologized, and toed the line (for how long... that is yet to be seen - because, to be very honest, I am extremely skeptical at this stage of the game).

John knows that I truly believe that good kids can make bad choices, and that I will always love him through thick and thin. But he also knows that, although I do not look at this as the end of the world, it most certainly dictates how the rest of his teen and high school years are going to be: court appearances, possibility of expulsion, community service, fines, loss of license, lack of trust, piss tests, and on and on it goes.

If one were to talk to my son tonight, he would probably admit that it is just not worth it. But the question remains: will he still feel this way the next time temptation arises? Will he still consider consequences when actions at that moment in time sound so intriguing?

I think that temptations today are far more than we, as parents, ever faced. I also think that through the ages (even back in my time, which seems like 100 years ago) the problem with teens is that they never believe it will happen to them... they think they are immune to getting caught; invincible... they honestly believe they are invincible. And because of these natural teenage beliefs, there is just one single thing I hope comes of this mess: I want John to realize that NO ONE... NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON is immune to temptation, and it takes a courageous person to stand up and say no. When it comes to invincibility - saying no is the only way to assure that getting caught is not an option.

Lesson learned? Only time will tell.

In the Trenches

I love him unconditionally. In fact, I even like him! He's charming and fun and totally entertaining. However, this kid is giving me gray hair - and that, I do not like. Note to self: make an appointment for a root touch up immediately. Who needs premature gray? Not me. I'm too vain.

Needless to say, my youngest child is once again in crisis, although this picture does not indicate such - he's a good faker and he can put on a happy face when the situation requires it to be necessary. The picture was taken on his 17th birthday, so clearly, he experienced a moment or two of happiness.

However, the real truth is that he is hurting and he is struggling to the point of daily panic attacks that are full blown with breathing problems, hyperventilation and body quakes - not pretty. The recent crisis is caused by a sudden reality check that portrays his world as crashing down around him. And he is finally recognizing the consequences of his past actions are a direct result of his own poor decisions and choices. He has a court date for drug possession on April 24. In the meantime, his drug test came back positive. He is flunking his classes and he may need to repeat all of his junior year in high school. This week, he was so angry that he crashed through his bedroom door and busted out the entire frame, thus damaging my house in a way that will require much repair and several hundred dollars... the door is fine... the frame and the walls are trashed... shattered... splintered... and damaged beyond a quick repair.

In the daily life of a 17 year old - these things are HUGE, and they are a wake up call as to what real life is all about. And in the meantime, he is not handling the realities well. He's experiencing daily panic attacks, a severe lack of self confidence, isolation from his friends, and an overall sense of helplessness. I'd like to say, "welcome to adulthood," but in this instance, that would be totally inappropriate considering that he is still fighting his autoimmune disease and he is still in need of weekly infusions that require 4 hours of needles hooked up to his belly as gamma globulin flows into his body. He's fighting his health care every step of the way, and it is not fun, and certainly not something a "normal" teen should have to deal with. So, in a way, I understand where his anger and frustration come from. But still, it does not give him a free pass to give up on life and rebel at every turn.

I'm not offering these observations as an excuse, because John is 17 years old and he is now of an age where he must deal with the consequences of his actions. However, it is all too much at one time. Isn't that the way life is? All or nothing? I never have understood why things happen this way. And for the mother of troubled child, the result is gray hair and many nights of stress and worry. I am beside myself with feelings of failure and lack of the skills to help a child in need of so much more than I am qualified to give. So I give love. And more love. And even more love. But I'm also mad, and that is where the feelings of guilt come into play.

Clearly, I'm in over my head as to how to deal with these problems. I do the best I can, and yet my heart aches all along the way. I am well aware that my time is ever drawing near when I will no longer be able to control John's medical treatments, nor will I be able to solve his problems (okay... admittedly, that day has long since passed, however, I still like to think that I can help him out once in a while). And, thus, my reality is that I am deep in the trenches and I am doing everything I can to survive this battle.

Anyway... that's where I've been. My absence has had nothing to do with my personal surgery... the surgery went relatively well and I've not heard back regarding the pathology reports, which in my mind means no cervical cancer cells, so all is well in that regard. The recovery took longer than expected, but I'm a slow recovery person, so the side effects of illness and discomfort were not a surprise. By about day seven, I was on the mend. Thank goodness, because, honestly, I don't have time to think about it. I've got my hands full with this child and that is about all I can handle at this moment in time.

Overwhelmed. That's putting it mildly. I'm in so far over my head that I don't know where to turn. So I pray. And I pray some more. And all the while, I hope for answers as I continue to trust in God. Last week, I received an answer to prayers in an unexpected form: a neighbor showed up at my door asking me to walk with her. Well, at the time, I was emotionally in a really bad place, so I declined the walk. But she stayed and lent a listening ear. In the end, I poured my heart out to her and I felt so much better for facing my fears and being totally honest with Suzanne about my shortcomings and my fears. She was an angel in disguise, and for that, I was blessed.

After she left, I realized that my prayers were being answered in an unexpected way: all this month, Jeff has been asking me to walk with him and our dog Buddy. He thinks I need more exercise and that I need fresh air to clear my head. Also, my Mom has been mentioning walks a lot - along the same lines as Jeff... fresh air, clear my head, exercise, getting out of the house, etc.

So the next day, when Jeff once again asked me if I wanted to go on a walk with him and Buddy, I surprised him by agreeing to do so.  We walked. And walked. And walked. Jeff is a fast walker, but he slowed down enough for me to keep up. We had a nice walk. And it was good to get out in the fresh air and clear my head. The exercise was nice, too, because, as most people know, I get ZERO exercise (sewing and crafting do not count as exercise). And even though my weight is holding steady at 121-122, my body shape is getting really flabby and I've sized up in my clothes. NOT GOOD! I'm short, and I don't want to be short AND fat. Short is bad enough.

So I guess it was a sign from those who love me (and from God) - all these people saying, "walk, Kelly, walk." I' ve since walked for an entire week. Walking with Jeff is pleasant - and I only have one rule: no hand holding. I'm sorry... but when I see people walking their dogs and holding hands at the same time it makes me wonder how the heck they keep their balance. It's not a midnight stroll, for crying out loud... it's a walk with the dog and for exercise. So no hand holding allowed. Jeff thought it was a funny rule, but he agreed to abide by my request since the goal was to get me off my butt and not to turn the ordeal into a date. Later, when I tripped on the sidewalk, he realized that my hand holding rule was a good rule to follow! Note that I've since tripped at least once every single day that we have walked. Jeff is now laughing about my rule, and I think he appreciates that I brought it up in the first place!

After a full week of walking, my legs are sore and my body is aching, but my mind is clear and I am in a better place than I've been in months. Good thing - since the door incident happened just this week and who knows how I would have handled it if I were still in my dark place with feelings of parenting failure and lack of faith in how to proceed.

In other news:


PURE HAPPINESS!


My sorority girl at a Chi Omega Alumni sponsored luncheon (Alyssa is standing in the back row - center girl wearing a salmon colored blouse). She is doing so well at GMU, which, in turn, makes me realize that I must have done something right at one point in time. Whew. Another blessing!

I titled this entry "In the Trenches" and I know that I am not the only parent of teens who feels this way. Some days are more than I can bear to think about, and other days I find myself holding on by my fingernails. But when all is said and done, I will forever love my children unconditionally, and I will never stop believing in them... thus, I will continue to hold on, even if it means slipping once in a while, because as long as I don't let go, I am not losing the battle.

However, this parenting thing is far more challenging that I ever dreamed possible, but it has also helped me build character in ways that I never knew I was capable of... because, really, who wouldn't have to swallow all of their pride and  still stand tall when escorting their wayward child to a court appearance and a mandatory drug test? I have eaten more humble pie this past year than I thought was possible... and yet, I'm still standing. I'm in the trenches... but I'm still standing. And at the end of the day, that, in and of itself, is a blessing.

You may have been wondering...

... where I've been. And because I don't want to offend those who are waiting for emails, and for the handful of people who loyally continue to check the blog, I provide this information:

Not fun. Without going into details, I will just say that I'm in the process of blood therapy, testing, procedures, and consulting with specialists. I'm also trying not to be mad at God, because although I know He is good, I'm not appreciating His sense of humor. First John, now me? I see nothing funny about that at all.

So there you have it: my absence is due to some physical difficulties and I am a tad bit overwhelmed, a whole lot stressed, and a quite a bit freaked out.

In order to keep the blog happy and upbeat, I thought I'd post a couple of sneak peek pictures of some of the projects I'd been working on before the health glitch:

The two projects above are items that I plan to add to the [maybe to happen] Etsy shop.

For the pillow, I made a cover/case that I placed on a small pillow that I use for back support when I am crocheting. I loved this fabric so much that I went back to the store and purchased three more yards. With the additional fabric, I think I am going to make some matching over-sized throw pillows for my sofa. What doesn't show up in the photo is the gold outlines around each flower - the fabric is exquisite and almost too classy for a pillow case. Had I known how fancy it was, I probably would have chosen something less formal to use as a back support. As it is, I think I now have a new favorite fabric-ever! I seriously love this fabric.

Current projects in the works are applique table settings as well as another 15 point star table centerpiece with matching placemats (more possible Etsy additions - if and when I decide to open a shop). However, the process is slow going due to the current health issues and so these projects are taking a long time to complete because when I'm not in the hospital or at medical appointments and therapies, I seem to be sleeping - the medication makes me so drowsy that I've even had to give up some of my favorite television shows (American Idol and Lost!). For those who know me, giving up my television shows is something I am not very happy about.

When all is said and done, I've decided that it often takes a crisis to remind me of how precious my health is. I am also reminded of how very thankful I am to have such a passion for sewing - it is my escape from the reality of this current crisis.

Oh, and about being mad at God... I'm not really mad at Him... but I do seriously question His timing. I guess his clock runs a bit differently than the one I am using.

Twitch

I've had a twitch in my lower left eye lid for the past four days. It began shortly after I received a phone call from Alyssa last Thursday night. She was sobbing and inconsolable. No mother is happy when they hear their child cry, especially when said child is not living at home and is freaking out. I felt so helpless, because, really... what could I do? She is away at college. I am not there to offer a shoulder to cry on - instead, all I had were empty words of comfort. Come to find out, Alyssa was not handling her final exams well, which is completely understandable for a first year college student. Knowing that, however, does not make it easier on the mother.

So, my eye started to twitch. And it twitched all weekend long. I guess I'm not handling the situation with the nurse - and now the situation with a stressed out college student - very well. I thought that the bit with the nurse was fine since, after a million phone calls, we finally did get a nurse out to our house last week. Seemingly, that should have put that problem to rest. But what I didn't realize was that I have internalized a lot of anxiety about John's transition to sub-q infusions - and by internalizing, I mean I can't let John know that this is something that I'm really nervous about because the responsibility of his care now rests completely on my shoulders, whereas, always before I've had a nurse to depend on when it comes to needles and serums and all the other stuff that goes along with an infusion.

 

This is what I am now responsible for. John says that he will be in charge of his therapy from here on out, but when I look at these supplies, I am wondering how he really feels about this change we are about to make. For people not in the medical field, the sight of needles and a Sharps container can be quite intimidating... well... they intimidate me, that's for sure.

And then there's this:

 

That's my driveway and my yard. This is what I woke up to at 7:00 this morning. And the minute I looked out my dining room window, that darn twitch went into a full speed twitch mode. Twitch. Twitch. I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on much of anything with a twitch that is going a hundred miles an hour.

I've been told that the hole in my yard is due to Vios. What the heck is Vios? And why is everyone but me so happy about this? Seriously... it's hard to be excited about something that creates this kind of a mess with my yard - even if it is something really cool (which I wouldn't know, since I have no idea what Vios is in the first place).

Twitch.

And so here's how I'm coping:

Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter. This is my version of mindless escape. And I'm not kidding when I say that the only time my eye has not twitched since last Thursday night is when I'm reading these books. Yep... I've read 4 books since Thursday. That's how I cope - I bury my nose in a book and I completely shut out the rest of the world. Thankfully, my husband knows when to let me do this, and when my eye starts to twitch, he always steps back and allows me to escape my reality. AND HE COOKS! What more can I ask for? Well, I could ask that my eye stop twitching, but at this point, I don't think that is going to happen until Alyssa is home for the holidays, John's first sub-q therapy is successfully completed, and my yard is put back together. Geez, I hope my yard does not look like this all winter long - I seriously think I would go insane if my eye were to twitch for that many weeks and months.

Twitch.

Twitch.

Twitch.

Happy Things

Because the title "Skunk Guts" is not very appealing, I am posting a new entry in an effort to move the words skunk guts from the top of the screen. Life is still filled with skunk guts - a horrible-awful-really-bad infusion experience on Tuesday, a waste of time Neurology appointment this morning, continued waiting for home-bound approval, and one very angry sixteen year old boy - but just because we have an abundance of skunk guts, doesn't mean that everything stinks.

So this post is going to be all about happy things - the little things that have made me smile today - because, believe it or not, there really are some happy things around here!

First of all, the coolest birthday card I have ever received:

 

It is a pop up card that turns into a darling little birthday cake. It has gold jewels that create the flames and a really neat glitter glaze is done on the plate. I love this card so much that I may never put it away. Leave it to my clever sister in law, Debbie, to find something that would make me smile. She always comes up with the most unique things. My sister, Jenny, and I always say that Debbie makes us look bad because there is no way we could ever keep up with her clever ideas. We think that Debbie must have a secret stash that she adds to all year long because she always gives the best gifts. And her wrapping techniques - they are to die for!

Speaking of Debbie's unique gifts, take a look at this great necklace she gave me:

 

The necklace came with a bag of marbles that contains every color imaginable. The marbles are interchangeable and very easy to snap in and out of the hanging charm piece. I'm grateful that Debbie keeps me trendy because, to be perfectly honest, I've fallen behind the times lately and I have begun feeling a bit frumpy and out of style. Alyssa has always helped me keep up with the appropriate trendy "mom" accessories, but since she's gone, I've been feeling a bit out of my element. Debbie to the rescue!

And how 'bout this:

 

My mom made her first ever online purchase! This was a BIG DEAL and it may have opened a whole new world to her <:giggle:>. Two things about this gift: 1) it is so "me", and 2) I am touched that my mom would venture out of her comfort zone to make sure I had the perfect birthday gift this year. I can't wait to make a day trip to Borders. I plan on spending hours there!

My iPod seems to be working now (thank goodness for that small miracle), and I have been turning on my tunes every opportunity I find... you know... in an effort to play catch up with all those days that the iPod was acting wonky and I had to do without. What I discovered after not listening to anything but the radio for the past month is that I have music on my iPod that I've not ever listened to. That is just wrong. And so when the iPod decided to start working again (I swear, these things have a mind of their own), I decided to listen to the songs I've neglected:

 

She just keeps getting better! Her songs make me want to dance. And when I hear her sing "I'll Stand by You" I cry... every. single. time. How could I have forgotten I added this CD last year? My bad.

Alyssa introduced me to Taylor Swift last summer. And since then, I have come to love her music. I can't wait for this album to be released next month:

   

I've been listening to the short clips on iTunes and I already know the songs will be added to my most played list. For someone so young, this girl can sure sing! And cute... oh my gosh... she's adorable!

So there you have it - my happy things for the day. I keep reminding myself that it's the little things in life that we come to cherish over time, and my sincere desire is to surround myself with every single happy thing I can find, because at the end of the day, happy little things are what keep me hanging on as I deal with the ugly bigger things.

Skunk Guts

Last Friday night, while driving home in the dark after dropping John off at the high school homecoming football game, I drove over some skunk guts. Those skunk guts made my pretty new Volvo stink to high heaven. I was so mad! The next morning, our garage smelled like skunk guts and the stench in my car was even worse. Yuck. How does a person remove the smell of skunk guts? The answer is you don't - you just have to wait it out. And so that's what I've been doing. Today the smell seems to be gone - thank goodness for that small favor.

While spending the weekend suffering the smell of skunk guts permeating my air, I concluded that skunk guts pretty much sum up where I'm at... things stink! But the good news is, eventually the smell goes away and I realize that things will someday return to normal.

So that's what this blog entry is about: the skunk guts I am dealing with. I thought the analogy was appropriate.

Recently I've received quite a few emails from friends and family wondering where the heck I've been. I keep meaning to take a minute to post an update on what is happening... but every time I think about it, I become overwhelmed with the thought of explaining this mess we are in. Plus... pictures. I like to blog with pictures... and coming up with pictures of my recent activities has been a stretch (no one wants to look at skunk guts!). However, the good news is that I played with pictures last weekend, so I now have a lot of visuals to add. YAY! So here we go...

In a nutshell: I'm spending another day waiting for yet another phone call from the school or the doctor or the nurse or all three. It seems as though my entire life is now consumed with bureaucratic red tape as I try to coordinate John's health care and educational needs.

Where we are at: John's immune system crashed when Jeff's sisters were here. It was very frightening and really insane trying to deal with John while attempting to entertain (or not) Jeff's family at the same time. Prior to this visit, we'd not seen one of the sisters for 7 years and the other sister for 14 years, so they had no idea what was going on. In the end, they left early, and I will always feel bad about that. But during the short time they were here, I managed to take a few pictures. Here are the best of the best:

Since then, John's health has continued to deteriorate. He's missed so much school due to home health care nurse visits and infusions, as well as with a bazillion medical tests and doctor appointments, that the Immunologist and the school requested that he receive home bound study. Home bound study provides a tutor in the home who will work around the medical needs and appointments.

So... that is good... other than the red tape involved has made this a nightmare. Three weeks later, a million phone calls into it, and about 30 faxed forms, and he is STILL not receiving home bound studies. That means he is still required by law to attend school - which is hit and miss at best, because 1) he doesn't feel well, and 2) he has so many appointments.

Additionally, we are dealing with a new nursing company (the company who provides the in-home care on the days that John receives gamma globulin infusions), and the company is disorganized and much more stringent about how they do things.... which means even more phone calls and paperwork on my part.

In the middle of medical appointments and trying to coordinate all this, the high school has decided that if at all possible, John should try to attend one class a day at the school. The reasons for this are varied, but after several meetings up at the school, I am now in agreement with this plan. So that means revised paperwork and processing a new request for home-bound. In the end, this will be the best thing because it will allow John a special status (don't know much about this part) on his college applications, meaning the high school counselor will provide a cover letter and a phone call conference with every single school he applies to. Right now, this is a top priority since he is failing his classes and his GPA is going down the drain. With the special status, there will be an explanation of what happened during his junior year and they will verbally discuss John's potential with the colleges he wants to attend. At this point, the special status is the ONLY way he will get into college, so we really need that.

In the meantime, John is muddling through as best as he can, and I am making every effort not to smother him as he continues to try to have a normal, active teenage life. Last weekend, John and Taylor attended the DHS Homecoming Dance. He rested all day prior to the dance and seemed to be feeling pretty well before he left. After the dance, he told me it was the best dance that he's ever gone to, so I think they had fun. I count my blessings with each and every smile he shares, and this smile was hard earned and well deserved!

Through it all, in spite of the handful of smiles we see, John's emotional state of mind is a mess. He is dealing with a whole lot of anger - anger towards the doctors, the school, and most of all me. He just wants to get well and be normal, and he claims that the infusions are a waste of time because he says they don't work. Unfortunately, it will take 6-8 infusions before he begins to feel better and stronger. His numbers were at 502 when he crashed. A healthy person's low average number is 1800, so 500 was potentially life threatening. Had John been exposed to the flu with those numbers, he could have died. And a cold will turn into pneumonia... which is another reason to keep him out of school for a while. The request was for 90 days, but at this point, home bound has not even started yet, so who knows how long it will last?

To answer burning questions about how *I* am doing... I'm hanging in there. After 4 weeks of dealing with this, I am finally accepting and adjusting to my new normal. I don't like it, and I'm still hurting and angry (at everyone and everything), but I'm slowly beginning to accept things for what they are: skunk guts! It took me a long time to reach this point - many sleepless nights and a whole lot of denial - but each day is a little better for me. When all this happened, I told Jeff that he was either with me or against me, but that my priority was John and that he could support me or fight it... either way, I was going forward with my plan of action, which was to be tenacious in my pursuit of doing what is best for my son. Jeff jumped on board and has been wonderful. He's still in denial, but he is supporting me as best as he knows how.

To keep myself from going insane, I've spent a lot of late nights reading. My chosen genre is fantasy because it is as far from my reality as I can get. It allows me an escape of sorts. I've read the entire Southern Vampire series (True Blood on HBO is based upon these books), and now I'm searching for something new. If someone had asked me six months ago if I would enjoy anything vampire, I would have laughed out loud. Vampires? Me? Not a good combination because I'm a fraidy-cat. However, after dealing with my own personal drama for the past month, I've decided that vampires are pretty tame in comparison. So vampires it is! Sookie Stackhouse is a hoot, and I giggled non-stop as I plowed through all eight books.

I've also been crocheting, because for some reason I find that it relaxes me - I find the repetitive nature of the stitches and the counting to be soothing. Here are a couple of my recent projects:

 

 

Last week I ordered a bunch of quilting patterns and I am hoping to begin sewing some Christmas projects as soon as we get this home-bound study request processed, because once that is processed, we may be able to develop an actual daily routine. Right now, every day is chaos because I never know if John will need to come home from school (this happens a LOT), and there always seem to be last minute doctor appointments as the docs think of new tests and procedures to try.

Alyssa has been home twice during this crisis because 1) she is worried about John, and 2) she came home to celebrate my b-day with me. We attended a craft show together as our annual celebration and it was so good to see her. She is thriving in college and is very happy, which in turn makes me very happy. I'm so glad that she is living her own life away from what is happening with John. She has always hated that he requires so much of my time and energy, so it is good that she doesn't have to deal with that anymore. Here are a couple of pictures I snagged from her Shutterfly account. I think they show how much fun she is having living the college life:

 

So that's where we are. John has an infusion scheduled tomorrow (8 hour in-home procedure), as well as two medical appointments on Wednesday. We are hoping that home-bound studies begin this week, but at this point, I have no idea where the district is in regard to the paperwork. We may have one more week to wait as they consider the request and line up a tutor and his lesson plans. I've been told that the request will be approved... so I have no idea what the hold up is.

Thank you to everyone for thinking of us, and thank you for knowing me well enough to understand why I've not taken the time to touch bases. I've worried about my friendships, but keep telling myself that my forever friends will understand and will forgive me. And a huge, giant, colossal thank you to all of my friends and family who sent birthday wishes. Your kind thoughts meant more than words can say. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for making my birthday special.

Skunk guts... they stink. But when all is said and done, the smell does go away, and I know that in the end, the same thing is going to happen with this mess we are in. I have faith that John is going to get better and that he is going to have the quality of life that he deserves, because after this weekend, I am convinced that no one has to live with skunk guts forever.

I am a nurse - kind of... sort of... not really. But I feel like one, so that counts for something.

^^^ that is the title of the somewhat witty, a little bit entertaining, and a whole lot of interesting entry I have composed in my head. I've been working on it since I woke up this morning. It includes the conversation with my husband as he informed me that I forgot to brush my teeth today. The first clue? My toothbrush was sitting on the counter with a big blob of untouched toothpaste. The story continues with my response about the dog getting sick while I was preparing for said toothbrushing. And then the entry goes on to tell about the other dog falling down the stairs while in her wheelchair as I scrambled to usher her still puking doggy brother out the back door (I hate dog puke!). I include more about my day by sharing the fact that I met the medical supply delivery guy in the driveway while still wearing my pajamas and the tidbit about me holding the phone to my ear as I awaited doctor's orders while multi-tasking in an attempt to add some mascara to my lashes (not recommended). And then I get to the part about the new nurse (not me, but a real nurse), the mean English teacher (I want to strangle the woman), and the 100 phone calls, 7 doctor appointments, 12 trips to the pharmacy, and eating dinner at 4:30 last night (also not recommended, because by the time 10:00 rolls around, you will be ready for breakfast). Thus, the whole I am a nurse - kind of... sort of... not really. But I feel like one, so that counts for something title.

Alas, that's all I have for you because to be completely honest, I am worn out and it is just too much to put into words. And so to summarize in a non-witty, not the least bit entertaining, and completely uninteresting manner: John's immune system began to shut down several days ago and it has been a mad scramble for answers, solutions, and help as I have tried my best to keep him out of the hospital. He's already missed seven days of school (we are only in week 4, so seven days is extensive). He's sick. He's unhappy. He's becoming belligerent. And I am at my wits end.

For those who have followed this saga, I'm sure that you are aware that if we have a nurse in our home, things are not good. The flip side of the nurse thing is that having a nurse in our home means that the doctors are sensing the urgency of this problem and they are working with me trying to keep John out of the hospital. So that's good.

And since I am being honest, I will add that all I really want to do today is take a nap to escape this nightmare. Unfortunately, there is a real nurse in my house, and I doubt she would appreciate a napping mother. Additionally, the other real nurses at the doctor's office keep calling me, so the quality of the nap would be completely compromised due to a phone that won't stop ringing. Thus, the nap will have to wait.

In other news as I push aside my intense longing for a nap, I was going to add to the original entry that will remain forever composed in my mind, never to be seen on computer screen or paper, this visual tidbit:

Okay, I know that this is the same image I used last year for the Grey's Anatomy Season Premier. But seriously... if I don't even have time to brush my teeth, it's a given that I don't have time to mess around with my Grey's Anatomy photos (and yes, I have an entire photo file dedicated to my favorite show in the history of television).  Grey's Anatomy is my happy place, and I am in some serious need of happy right now. I've been looking forward to the 2 hour season premier for weeks, and knowing that my wait has finally been whittled down to only one more night fills me with delight.

I. Can't. Wait.

And with that, I'm off to check on the nurse... the real one, not myself, for I fear that if I were to take the time to check on my actual self, I may find that I have forgotten a whole lot more than just brushing my teeth.

I'll see y'all on the other side of Grey's! Enjoy the show.

Note: teeth have since been brushed, scrubbed, flossed, and shined. I should be good to go for the rest of the day!

~ Feeling Patriotic ~

Yesterday I decided to take a break from getting ready for my company so that I could attend the McCain-Palin Road to Victory rally. I figured that mopping my floors was not nearly as important as witnessing history in the making, and so off I went to join thousands of people in what was my first political rally.

From early on, I was taught that religion and politics are two subjects that are private, personal, and not to be discussed in polite company. But because Sarah Palin seems to be the topic of interest right now, I have chosen to break social rules and share a few thoughts and a couple of pictures I took.

This was my first time attending a political event, and I will admit that it was awe inspiring to see so many Americans come together to show support for the presidential candidate and his running mate. What my decision boiled down to was Sarah Palin... I wanted to hear her speak and to witness first hand the change that has occurred in what I consider to be an otherwise crummy election season. I was not disappointed. She is a down-to-earth-everyday-girl. I liked her before I attended the rally, and I like her even more after seeing her in person. And even if McCain-Palin do not take office this year, I am so encouraged to see a woman have such an impact on a single election.

Because there were so many people at the rally, I ended up standing behind the media, which is not the ideal location for taking pictures. But since this was a first in my life, I tried to document it in some way. These are the best of the bunch - and they really aren't very good :giggle:. But, hey! I was there, and this is my proof, along with buttons, bumper stickers, and posters <--- all of which will remain tucked away as to not break the social rules I was raised to honor.

I left the rally feeling very patriotic, and I can honestly say that this election has taken on a whole new meaning to me - something that makes me happy because I like knowing that I am a part of the electoral process, and it feels good knowing that I have taken the time to become better educated and more aware of what is at stake.

Before I attended the rally, I was sitting on the fence. Today... I got off the fence.

And with that, I will close because the truth is, I am really uncomfortable talking about politics! No wonder there is an unwritten social rule that it is impolite to do so.

In other news: my company still have not arrived, but I expect to see them soon. At least I hope to see them soon. Waiting is no fun at all, and at this rate, I'm going to have to do the housework all over again if they don't get here today.

Randomness [<--- is that a word?]

These flowers make me smile.

Late last spring, Alyssa decided she wanted to plant a garden and so she went to Target and bought packets of seeds. She then rummaged around under our deck and dug out some old planter boxes. She filled them with dirt, scattered the seeds, added some Miracle Grow, and placed the boxes outside my kitchen window. All summer long we waited for flowers wondering what her green thumb would cultivate. She ran off the squirrels hourly. She watered the dirt daily. And she moved the boxes from sun spot to sun spot every single week. By the time she left for college, she had pretty much decided that the squirrels had won the battle and that her garden was a bust because after three months, there were still no flowers in sight.

Not long after she left, I peeked out my window one morning and noticed a sea of tiny pink and purple flower buds. Alyssa's garden is finally growing! What a nice surprise, and what a special reminder that, although she is no longer living at home, her special touch remains.

Randomness (I really don't think that is a word!):

• High school is back in session. John is on day three. Unfortunately, on day two, he spent two hours in the vice principal's office. He took a stance, which was a risk, and ended up paying for it in spades - thus, his first visit to the principal this year. What gets me is that most of the time he was in her office (an office I am intimately familiar with, having attended more than one meeting there), she was attending meetings, so he sat alone missing chemistry and lunch. My question is this: why did she not send him back to class and address the problem after school? I don't understand how making a kid sit in an empty office gains anything - especially when said kid did nothing to disrupt or disturb classes in the first place. I'm all for appropriate punishment, and I don't dispute that John probably deserved just that, because it sounds like he was disrespectful in his comments to her. But I take issue with the fact that John was not allowed to attend his first day of chemistry class. In my mind, there is something wrong with how the situation was handled. For now, I'm staying out of it. But if this continues, I, too, will be spending time in her office.
• We have company coming next week. I like company and I am excited for their visit. I only wish I would have known about it sooner because getting ready for company is a month long ordeal for me. Remember last spring when I spent six weeks sewing and painting before my family arrived? That's what I like to do before people come to my home - I like to spiff everything up and give mini make-overs to the house. I won't have time to do that now because my company arrive in less than a week. I'm a tad bit stressed.
• Speaking of company... my vacuum is broken. Great timing - NOT! It needs a part, so there is no way it will be repaired prior to our company's arrival. I've got a back up vacuum, but it doesn't have attachments. Can I just admit that I'm stressing over this as well?
• And speaking of broken... my iPod is broken, which, in turn, breaks my heart. I'm having a difficult time getting jazzed up for a major "company is coming" housecleaning without the companionship of my iPod. Currently, we are looking into purchasing a program that will back up my iTunes Library. The program is only $20 - so it's a good investment - but if my iPod doesn't unfreeze long enough to pull up the library, the program is going to do me no good. Another little glitch in this plan is that I need to find 50+G of memory to store my back up library because that is how much stuff I have on my iPod. 50 gig is a lot! I think I'm going to need another external hard drive. This iPod boo boo is costing me more than a heartache.
• About heartache... my heart no longer aches over Alyssa's departure, and here is why: Alyssa is so happy! She is loving college and she is adjusting very easily. And in the end, that is all a mother could wish for. So after a summer of agony, I have come to realize that a happy college student makes up for every ounce of trepidation I experienced.
• No segue in to this, so it is very random... I am lacking in photo subjects and I miss taking pictures (thus the flowers and the picture of the dog below, I was desperate). How on earth am I going to keep my blog looking pretty if I don't have pictures? I've been thinking about this a lot and I've come to the conclusion that I need to start sewing and scrapbooking and crocheting again because dressing up the blog with inanimate objects is better than nothing.
• Sewing... one of my favorite subjects. The new season of Bravo's Project Runway is well underway. I TiVo the show every week and I watch the episodes over and over again. There is just something about this show that inspires me. If I were twenty years younger, I'd try out for Project Runway in a heartbeat. Heck, if I were twenty years younger, I'd go to Parson's School of Design just to learn how they do the things they do.
• TiVo... mine is working overtime on Wednesday nights. Thursday used to be the day for Must See TV. Lately, Wednesday has become my Must See TV. I've got Project Runway, Top Design, and last night a new cycle of America's Next Top Model began <--- okay, I know there is the tranny gimmick this season, but after watching the two hour premiere, I still think I'm going to enjoy this cycle. If they focus heavily on the tranny... maybe not... but the tranny can model... so who knows what they have in store for us.
• About Thursday being a Must See TV night... I've got it marked on my calendar in SHARPIE MARKER! The countdown has begun for the premiere episode of Grey's Anatomy, Season 5. Three words about that: I. Can't. Wait.

And that, my friends, is about as random as I get. Sadly, this is how my mind works 24/7. It drives John crazy. He tells me that I wear him out when I'm talking because it is so hard to keep up with the randomness of it all. And again... there's that word: RANDOMNESS. I'm pretty sure it's not a word, but certainly sounds good when describing my thought patterns.

One more random item - another picture. This time of my dog because she doesn't gripe and moan when she sees the camera. Misty's back has gone out again, so I took this picture holding her in my lap with one arm while I held the camera out with the other. I'm telling you - I am in dire straights when it comes to photo subjects right now. It's always bad when I have to resort to taking a picture of myself holding the dog.

Edited to add: I looked it up! Randomness is in fact a word. Who knew?

The first phone call home...

I woke up this morning knowing that I had very little on my agenda. This is how it has been since we dropped Alyssa off at college - I am feeling a bit lost, because even though John is still at home, he requires not nearly the time and energy that was required for my girl-child. And for this reason, there are great big gaps in my day where I find myself wandering aimlessly lost and confused.

As I was thinking about the lost feeling in my heart, I realized that I have nothing to talk about right now. Seriously. I am boring. Is this what it is going to be like for the rest of my life? I didn't realize that my entire life was so wrapped up in the care and keeping of my children. There has got to be more that defines me than being a mother. That is only one aspect of who I am. But for some reason, I have lost the rest of me. I don't even know myself anymore if I am not mothering my children.

NOTE TO SELF: Make some changes. Become interesting. Redefine who you are.

And so with that thought in mind, off I went to Costco for no reason other than to fill the tank up with gas and to get out of the house. While out and about, I decided to stop by Starbucks, because... well... that's what real grown ups do. And that, my friends, sums up my day. Boring. I'm telling you... I am boring.

When I returned home after only being away for a short time, the phone rang - the real phone, not my cell phone. I never get excited when the real phone rings since no one of interest calls on that phone anymore. When I glanced at the caller id, I saw Alyssa's name. YIPPEE! The first call since she has left my nest (high fives to me for not being the mom who can't leave her alone and who calls her and bugs her every single day - I have not done that, and I know I won't because this is her time). I have to admit, it was wonderful to hear her voice. And, as expected, she is busy and happy and enjoying living on campus. My heart soared.

A few highlights from this, the all-important first call:

• The girls decided to debunk the beds. They have now moved them into a big row and are sleeping side-by-side-by-side. Alyssa described it as one great big giant king sized bed. She loves the set up, but needs more blankets.
• One of the roommates is a slob. This bothers her a lot, but she still likes the girl.
• Another roommate is using Alyssa's desk as a dumping ground. Alyssa is hoping she figures out a way to handle the situation because it is unacceptable.
• Since their room is the first room on the first floor, they have opted to leave their door open whenever someone is "home." Their room is quickly becoming the gathering place for the entire first floor and there are always more than the original five roommates in the room. This delights Alyssa and she says she is loving making so many new friends.
• Taking  pictures is fun, "and by the way, Mom, I used your Shutterfly account to order prints."
• Last weekend all five roommates headed to Washington DC and spent a night on the town. Alyssa said it was a blast.
• She has not gone to bed before 3:00 in the morning since moving into the dorm. One night they stayed up until 5:00 and then headed off for their classes at 7:30. She's tired, but doesn't want to take a nap. And so begins her next 4 years.
• Since she only signed up for 10 meals a week, she is hungry. Could she please change her meal plan to include 15 meals a week?
• Sorority week is September 11. Alyssa is all about going Greek. She can't wait to pledge, but "Bummer that the dues are so high, mom, because dad told me I had to pay for those myself." <-- yep, she does [smile].
• Tuesday is the best day of the week because she only has one class and it is over by 11:30.
• "Art supplies are expensive, but I love the class and I am glad I decided to take it." This class is absolutely perfect for her, and I, too, am glad she decided to take it.
• Life in the dorm stops when "The Hills" comes on. Everyone gathers around the television and watches the show. They are planning to make this a weekly event.
• She needs a printer, so she's going to buy one tonight using a new friend's employee discount.
• And one final thing that she told her dad, but neglected to mention to me: "I joined the Skydiving Club."

Are you kidding me? The Skydiving Club? My child? Skydiving? Where on earth did that come from? I don't even want to know. Seriously. Do. Not. Tell. Me.

So there you have it, not an entry with pictures (my photo subject has left the building), but a post for anyone who is wondering how I am and how Alyssa is settling in. Based upon this single phone call, it sounds like she is doing fine. There was enthusiasm in her voice, she never once mentioned being homesick (and I will not ask), and she sounded happier than I have heard all summer.

I still haven't cried, and maybe I won't. I think my tears were shed long before she was gone, and I believe those tears prepared me for her leaving. When we dropped her off last week, I experienced a feeling of great satisfaction, and it felt good knowing that I had a hand in helping her reach this point. After talking to Alyssa today, I feel even better. From here on out, she is in control. We gave her the tools and I hope she takes those tools and builds something great. And for that reason alone, I am not sad. In fact, I am happy. Lost. But happy.

And with that in mind, I am going to look for some of my own tools. I know I have them. But they are pretty rusty. I also know that once I find my tools, I am going to have to figure out what to do with them. I might even need new tools, but I'm also hoping that the old tools can be used to rebuild my foundation because once upon a time, I was me... Kelly... not a mom... not a wife... but just me. That's what I am hoping to find again, because when all is said and done, today really is the first day of the rest of my life.

Summertime, and the living is... CRAZY

I'd like to say that I took the week long nap I had planned after Alyssa's graduation events. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. I did, however, manage to eek out two days to regroup and read a book once everyone hopped on their jet planes after the big event. But since then, it's been full speed ahead... non-stop... running as fast as I can just to keep up. Getting a child ready for college is a lot of work!

And so because I have not had time to stop and catch my breath, I've also not had time to process the 500+ photos I took when everyone was here. Additionally, I have a self-imposed rule that blog posts require photos, and so I've used that as an excuse to hide from the whole wide world, including my family. However, if I am to be completely honest, the one single reason I have not made time to process the pictures is because I knew that when I took my first walk down the memory lane of Alyssa's graduation week, I would fall to pieces. As it is, I'm barely holding it together. I started crying before she even began her senior year. I cried like a fool the entire week of her graduation. And I bawled like a baby when my mom left after it was over. To make matters worse, last week I actually cried in the bedding aisle of Target when Alyssa purchased a comforter and sheets for her college dorm room. And I cried again on Thursday and Friday when we went to her university campus for two busy days of orientation and registration (an experience that deserves a post of its own). Alyssa is sick to death of seeing me cry. She just doesn't get it - she doesn't understand that I am HAPPY for her. I am EXCITED for her - she is capable, she is competent, and she is ready for college. I know this. But that doesn't mean *I* am ready to send her on the journey. And so in spite of the fact that I am thrilled for her, selfishly, I am scared of my own future. Thus, my lack of desire to take a look back at the pictures celebrating her achievements, because those pictures signify the end of her childhood journey - and although it is time for a new journey to begin, I'm still not ready. She is. I'm not. And that's just the way it goes.

So... now that I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve, admitting that I'm holding on by my fingernails, I will also admit that I'm thinking it might be a good thing that I am so busy this summer, because busy means no time to fall apart. Not that John breaking his nose is a good thing (yeah, he broke it when everyone was here, which means appointments with the surgeon), and not that Alyssa needing new eyeglasses is a good thing (she needs to see, after all), and not that both kids needing updated immunizations this summer is a good thing (toss in a few more medical appointments), and Alyssa has a toothache, which is definitely not a good thing (might as well head to the dentist office while we are at it)... these not so good things are keeping me too busy to process what is right around the corner - Alyssa leaving my nest. It's going to happen. And there is nothing I can do about it, so I may as well spend these final days and weeks throwing myself into mother-mode, which exactly what I've done.

All that said, being busy is still not an excuse for neglecting everything else. Therefore, after receiving numerous emails from family and friends wondering if I was falling apart (these people know me too, too well), and because I am the Unofficial Family Photographer for all things great and small, last night I forced myself to sit down and play with some of my favorite pictures taken in June. And as I did, I cried. However, I also smiled. And in my mind, smiling is the first step in accepting the changes that are to come.

And so with a smile on my face, and a heart filled with love, I share with you some of my favorite moments from June 2008. Last night as I looked at these pictures I finally realized that although some things might change, everything starts and ends with family:

"Family is not an important thing, it is everything."         -Michael J. Fox

The following is a little slide show I put together. These are just a few of my favorite moments with my family. If the album is not scrolling, click on the little x in the upper right corner and it will start all over again. Speed it up, or slow it down... either way, I think you will smile with me:

Three posts in one: Prom, Life is Good, and FINALLY!

2008 Senior Prom

Last night was the Senior Prom. Alyssa went with a group of friends, choosing not to have a date, but rather to enjoy the evening with everyone in her class. She's funny like that - no date just for appearance sake. She'd rather go solo than spend the night with someone she didn't like in the dating sense. I was proud of her for going alone - I don't know if I would have had the courage to do that when I was in high school.

It seems like this spring has been  All About Alyssa, and to a degree, that is true. Being a senior is not only a big deal (and a lot of work) for the senior, but it is also a big deal (and a lot of work) for the mom. I keep telling myself that this happens only once and that I will survive the stress and the crazy days of activity and frenzy - and as the temperatures reached almost 100 degrees yesterday, with a humidity level of what felt like a bazillion degrees, I kept reminding myself that the heat would serve as an added memory to Prom Day as we dealt with the manicure, the pedicure, the hair and the make up, all of which I was just sure would wilt and melt in the heat.

But when all was said and done, Alyssa's Senior Prom was a success and my beautiful daughter looked every bit the mature young woman she has grown to be. I was a tad bit overcome with emotion as I helped her prepare for her final high school prom. The thought foremost in my mind was that I hoped she was able to create last minute memories with the friends she will soon be saying good-bye to. I think she had fun... at least that is the impression I got this morning. Her hair is still "up" today, meaning it didn't fall apart in the heat; her make up is gone, but it still looked fresh (and only a tiny bit shiny) when she returned home after the dance. So all in all, I'm saying hooray! We did it. One more senior activity behind us and one more memory to place in the treasure box inside my heart.

Here is a peek at her dress and hair before the big event:

And this:

I love this picture of Alyssa and her friends. They look so happy and carefree. If I didn't know the inside scoop (the mean girl story), I would not have any inkling that weeks of drama and stress ensued leading up the the Senior Prom. And if a picture is worth a thousand words, I think it is safe to say that the girls were able to put the drama behind them as they had the time of their life the night of the dance.

Life is Good!

YEE-HAW! My mom arrives tomorrow [:smiley face:]. I've, i.e., the house, has been ready for her since Friday, in spite of the fact that my week went to hell in a hand-basket as we weathered a storm and no power, an entire day of medical appointments, and another day of errands that seemed to never end in the oppressive heat and humidity. It's a wonder I got anything done at all, because, after all... it was Prom Week, and for those who have never had a high school senior, know this: everything stops as the world revolves around the student attending the prom, thus, anything else on the agenda becomes secondary. It's a wonder I didn't strangle said senior, and it's a true miracle that Alyssa and I managed to make it through the week with only one or two snipes!

I am so excited to see my mom. She will be here for an entire week before the rest of the family begin to arrive. Our plans for those days include lunches, shopping, lots of chatting and playing, in addition to a Senior Awards Assembly and a "secret" banquet given by the Ruritan Club honoring Alyssa and other students receiving scholarships (Alyssa does not yet know she has won this scholarship - thus, the secret).

And FINALLY...

Some may remember that Alyssa was in a car accident last October - an accident that totaled my SUV. Since that time we have been a four driver family with only one car. To say it's been a trial would not begin to express the test this has been on my patience. Not a day has gone by that someone has not asked me if I've replaced the MDX (my friends knowing that the level of my patience was being sorely tested). And for the past six months, my answer has been, "that's a bad subject."

Well... I am pleased to announce that as of yesterday (the day that Alyssa foolishly thought was all about her, but turned into to being quite a lot about ME!), I am now the proud owner of a Ruby Red 2005 Volvo S60. And although I usually don't get all worked up about material things, this is one material thing that I am thrilled with. I've been happy dancing for the past 24 hours, and every time I see the car in the garage, or drive it [on sometimes unnecessary errands], I have to pinch myself in order to believe that I FINALLY have a new car. One thing I can now say unequivocally is that it was worth the wait - I am having a love affair with my new car. Once my mom arrives, I will ask her to take a picture of me and Ruby Red so I can post it as part of this long awaited celebration.

In looking back over the last few days and weeks, I can't believe that it's here... Alyssa's graduation - the event that will reunite my extended family once again; the event that I've been preparing for since September. I still find it hard to believe that *I* am the parent of a senior. And I can't get over the fact that my little girl is all grown up. I keep wondering where the time went... how did it pass so quickly... and what am I going to do when she leaves for college?

These are questions I will probably be asking for the next year. And since I don't think the answers will be forthcoming for quite some time, I have decided to sit back, relax, and enjoy the moment because tomorrow kicks off the BIG EVENT!

I love spring!

In spite of the rain (and we've had a lot), I love springtime. And just as Easter signifies the rebirth of Christ, spring for me brings the rebirth of my soul. There is just something about watching the earth bloom that makes me feel renewed and happy.

Today I walked outside to see what looked like giant snowflakes falling from the sky.  It wasn't really snow (thank goodness), instead, it was the fragile petals of the cherry blossoms falling from the branches of the trees. As far as my eye could see, there were pink and white petals slowly falling to the ground. The grass was covered in what looked like a blanket made of soft, velvety petals. This means that cherry blossom time is almost over and soon the trees will be filled with vivid green leaves instead of beautiful pink and white flowers. And so because the peak of the blossoms lasts for such a short time, I ran inside and grabbed my camera so that I could take a final batch of pictures to document my favorite part of springtime. These will be my last cherry blossom photos until next year, at which time, I will once more gaze at the flowers and try to capture the beauty all over again.

Speaking of color, I eeked out a handful of days to work on two sewing projects that I've been itching to get my hands on. Oh happy day! Fabric + Color = Happy Kelly, because color is what I live for. Today I completed the second project, and I'm now ready to move on to the next item on my list - cleaning my bedroom closet. Clearly, sewing is far more fun than cleaning my closet, and if I had it my way, I'd start yet another sewing project rather than tackle the mess that I've created in the place where I collect clothing. However, something BIG is happening, and I've got a ton of things to do before my mom and step-dad, my sister and my niece, and my sister-in-law and my nephew come to visit for two wonderful weeks in June to honor Alyssa's high school graduation. Therefore, these projects may be the last sewing I do for a while.

Here's a sneak peek at what I've been working on:

I've taken pictures of the end results, but I have a book club meeting tonight and am running out of computer time. So... the final projects will be unveiled tomorrow. In the meantime, I will once again join my book club buddies as I attempt to talk my way out of why it is that another month has gone by and I have not read the assigned book for our monthly discussion. This time, my excuses are 1) Target didn't carry the book, 2) I was reading something else and ran out of time, and 3) to be perfectly honest, I thought the book would upset me, and so I subconsciously opted out with excuses 1 and 2.

For those who are curious, this month's book is titled Eye Contact, by Cammie McGovern. If, after tonight's meeting, my mind changes (it's been known to happen!) and I think the story won't upset me, I will borrow a copy from one of the book club members and read in my [not so] spare time.

And with that... off I go. Tonight we are meeting at my very favorite authentic Italian restaurant, which is most certainly the only reason I am willing to humiliate myself yet again when I admit to my friends that I haven't read the book.

Welcome to AARP!

Huh? Seriously. Seriously! Seriously?

Is this an April Fool's Joke? Because if it is, I am NOT laughing. (Okay, I'm laughing a little, but not a whole lot - and certainly not enough to accept this offensive offer.)

This lovely bit of mail arrived with my bills and church newsletter today. Alyssa thought it was hilarious. She made sure to announce to the entire family that "Mom received mail from AARP!" And then she waved it around my head and asked me, "Isn't AARP for old people?"

I am not amused (okay, a little amused, but not much). And for those who have watched even a smidgen of Big Brother this season, I will add that "I am a 46 year old woman. I've given birth to two children. I deserve respect." And while I'm on the subject of respect, since when did 46 years old become an eligible age for AARP? Whose idea was this, anyway? They got me four full years before I hit the big Five-O mark. And even 50 years old is not considered to be a senior citizen. At least, not the last time I checked.

The timing for this invitation could not have been worse. One of the reasons I've been absent from the public eye is because I've been cranky: not just a little cranky, but a whole lot of cranky for a whole lot of weeks. And when I am cranky, even *I* can't stand myself - meaning I did you all a service by keeping my cranky thoughts to myself.

I think the reason I've been cranky is because I'm mad at my body. And I'm pretty sure that my body is to blame for my frame of mind. I'm chalking it up to peri-menopause - that thing that hits before the actual drying up of the womb. Menopause indicates old. Peri-menopause is only the precursor. But it's there... in my face... messing with my moods... messing with my mind... messing with my otherwise healthy body. With this lovely aging process, I've experienced the not-so wonderful addition of chin hair. CHIN HAIR! How absolutely horrifying is that? Who wants to pluck hair from their chin? And to add insult to injury, I can't even see the blasted hair without a magnifying glass because my eyes are not as good as they once were. Toss in some age spots on my face and hands, and more gray hair than I can keep covered with dye... and... well... need I explain why I am mad at my body? It's turning against me. And to be perfectly honest, I despise this. So the fact that AARP decided to pull my name from the database of "almost old" people is rather insulting, taking into account how I've been feeling lately.

My mom loves AARP. She's a proud, card carrying member. She was thrilled the day she turned sixty because it meant all sorts of good things - discounts, benefits, status and respect! And because my mom loves her position as a member of AARP, she's made sure to tell me what a great organization it is. I've always known that someday I would become a member too. But someday isn't today. And someday isn't next year. Heck, someday isn't even this decade! Someday is just that... some day in the distant future - after menopause has dried up my womb and I am officially old and senior-like. I'd like to think that someday is far, far away - sort of like a figment of my imagination.

And so there you have it. AARP has insulted me. They rubbed salt in the wound and offended my senses. I refuse to believe that I am getting old. And in spite of what my body is saying, I remain firm in my belief that age is just a state of mind. My mind is telling me I'm young and vibrant - that I still have many years of song and dance left in me. The way I look at it, my life hasn't reached its peak yet. I'm not even close to peaking. I'm still climbing that mountain and enjoying the journey.

So why, then, is my body defying me? And how, pray tell, does AARP know this?

Winter Woes

What a wild ride!

On Sunday the wind was blowing up a storm - 45 and 50 mile an hour gusts blew for over twelve hours. Apparently, the wind was strong enough to blow right down our vents, which blew the furnace light out. This happened in the middle of the night and when we woke up on Monday morning, we had no heat. The temperature was 16 degrees outside... and we had no heat. Brrrrrrr! I spent the day bundled up in a scarf and gloves as our power came and went while the wind continued to blow. When a person is cold, it seems to take forever for the house to reheat, and so Monday turned out to be a very long, chilly day. Definitely not my idea of a great way to start the week, but clearly Mother Nature's way of reminding me that spring is nowhere near... not yet... not now... not in February. Last week we had two seventy degree days (again), but I guess that was a tease, because after spending a day bundled up inside my own home, I can see that if I want springtime in February, I'm going to have to move south. Harrumph.

After our house finally heated up, the weather report called for another winter storm, and on Tuesday it blew in with a vengeance. The kids were released from school an hour early due to ice, sleet and snow. Yep, another storm was brewing. Thankfully, our heat was back on, so we were comfy-cozy inside the house as the rain and sleet drizzled and froze all night long. When we woke up Wednesday morning it was to the news of no school. Good call since the ice was a quarter of an inch thick on all surfaces - a true winter wonderland.

When I was growing up in the Pacific Northwest, ice storms were known as Silver Thaws. I used to love Silver Thaws because they were so pretty. I also loved them because silver thaw meant a no school day. For a child, there is nothing more sweet than the words no school. Since moving to the midwest, and then the east coast, I've not heard of ice storms referred to as Silver Thaws. They are called Ice Storms - a very concise and descriptive way to describe the situation. But in my mind, ice storms will always be Silver Thaws. I just think it sounds so much nicer.

And so here we are - thawing out. More snow is forecast for tonight. Bleck. Due to the wintry weather, my schedule for the week has utterly and completely fallen apart, which frustrates me to no end. I had a busy week planned, and now it's gone to hell in a hand basket - which means next week is going to be insane because already the kids have a no school day on Monday due to President's Day. I swear - kids spend more time out of school than in school during the month of February. Every year, it's the same thing... and every year I seem to forget until it smacks me in the face. And so not only is the weather wrecking havoc with my schedule, but with all these no school days, I'm having a very difficult time accomplishing anything at all worthwhile.

And while I'm on my winter woes soapbox, I may as well ask: is it just teenagers, or do all kids bicker and whine on no school days? I don't remember those details of my childhood. All I know is the here and now - and that is two bored teenagers who are happy about no school, but unhappy about not being able to leave the house. Fickle. That's what teenagers are. Their moods are as wild as the winter weather - blowing in with a vengeance and wrecking havoc with the land. Long gone are my moments of having sweet little toddlers who loved snow days because snow days meant Mommy days. Nope. My teenagers have no appreciation whatsoever for Mommy days. In fact, they act like a day spent with Mom is a day spent in prison. I'm seriously beginning to develop an inferiority complex!

Thankfully, last week I was on the ball and prepared for Valentine's Day with gifts and goodies for my [now bored and bickering] teens. All the red and pink treasure is crammed in a closet with the vacuum cleaner (they would never in a million years open that closet!), and once everyone goes to bed (I'm so looking forward to this moment of my day), I will haul out the goods and [pretend] that I am over-the-moon thrilled to shower them with love on Heart's Day, when the truth of the matter is that I would really appreciate Mother Nature to smile down upon me and give me my own little Valentine gift - some nice weather is all I'm asking for... a break from the ice and snow. I don't think that is asking too much, considering that this week is only half-way over and I'm not in the mood for much more turmoil.

When I think about spring, I can almost remember what it is like to wake up each day to sunshine and blue skies. Almost. But not quite, because today my reality is cold temperatures and blustery weather. I really don't like winter. It is something I endure only because I have no choice. And yet, on days like today - Silver Thaw days - I am reminded that winter does have beauty, if only for a moment. And with each one of those moments, I am that much closer to spring.

Following are pictures of the ice storm as seen from my backyard.

Nice to know my brain still works!

I stumbled across this little brain test as I was surfing the news today. When I took the test, I was relieved to discover that my brain not only works, but it works both way - the left side is up and running, and the right side is working as well. Whew. That's nice to know. Sometimes I wonder about my brain function based upon the brain freezes I seem to experience every now and then.

What I also discovered after taking the test was that I can control which side of my brain I'm using at any given time. That's pretty cool. I'm now telling myself that this must mean I am in full control of my brain... but that's probably a stretch. What it really means is that I am a whole brain thinker - someone who uses both sides of the brain equally. Okay, that's good - I would hate to neglect any one part of my brain for fear that it might shut down altogether.

The thing that did not surprise me was that every time I look at the image below, the first glance always uses the right side of my brain. That's the random way of thinking side. Yeah, I'm pretty random, because unless I am working on a specific task, I tend to be all over the place with thoughts that are here, there, and everywhere. This character flaw makes my kids crazy. In fact, they often tell me that my comments and statements are random and don't apply to the subject at hand. Well, yeah! That's how my brain works - totally random. I hate to admit that the first impression I often make on people is that of an empty-headed blonde (and I'm not even blonde) (no offense meant to blondes!). Time and again I've had people tell me that they had to readjust their first impression after they spend time with me because (gasp) I actually have some valid points of view with information and facts that support my way of thinking. I suppose that's good (?) because it means that the left side of my brain is doing its job proficiently and quietly. I guess I don't like to flaunt the fact that I am a walking encyclopedia of all things trendy, current, or pop-culture related. Now... if the subject is math or science, then my brain shuts down completely. I'm just not interested, and those things don't compute. Never have. Never will. I'm not sure if my brain even has a compartment for those subjects. Probably not.

So here's the test. It's fun. Everyone in my house has studied the spinning dancer and we've all discussed the results. After taking the test, it's safe to say that each of us has a working brain! The original article posted in PerthNow can be found by clicking on this link.

Hint: if you focus on her foot, you she will turn in one direction. If you focus on her entire body, she changes directions and will turn the other way. And if you focus in and out, you can stop the turn and she will go back and forth facing front (or back, depending on when you stop the turn). Very, very interesting!

Whew. So glad I spent my Saturday testing my brain. Had I not stumbled across the article and taken this test, I would have spent my entire life wondering if those random brain freezes were an indication of early dementia. Now I know - I'm not demented! I actually find it quite comforting to discover that my brain still works.

So... what do you see? Are you right-brained, left-brained, or whole-brained like me?

Today I wept.

I love to vacuum. Not because I love to do housework (I don't), but because I love to blast the music from my iPod while I sing and dance my way around the house. For some reason, singing like a fool and dancing like a dork makes me really happy - in spite of the fact that I'm absolutely positive I must look like a complete idiot when I do these things.

Today I vacuumed. As I was choosing the music from my Playlists, I decided I was in the mood for good, old fashion rock and roll. Perfect! And so I pushed the button for my 70s classic rock favorites, and off I went. Journey, Boston, Styx, Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Foreigner, Rod Stewart, Bob Seger... artists from my youth... lyrics that shaped my long ago thoughts... songs that are the background of my life. Every time I listen to these artists, I am swept away by memories of the person I used to be - the Kelly who was on the brink of adulthood. The me who still believed in fairy tales. And today it was the same - all those memories came flooding back. And as I was singing and dancing and vacuuming up a storm, a song by Sammy Hagar came on. I no longer felt like singing and dancing. Instead, I wept.

When I was a teenager, my brother, Jeff, used to blast Sammy Hagar so loudly that the windows in our basement would rattle. Back then, I hated Sammy Hagar because when Sammy Hagar played, stereo wars ensued - and whenever that happened, things always turned ugly. Why a Sammy Hagar song is even on my iPod is beyond me. Until today, I didn't realize I'd added the much despised artist of my youth to my playlists. Maybe it was serendipity that I would hear Sammy Hagar today. Or maybe, just maybe, I subconsciously selected 70s rock and roll because I needed to take that walk down memory lane.

Today is my brother Jeff's 45th birthday, and the fact that today is his birthday was my first waking thought. Why this day is so BIG to me is probably because although I have three siblings, this particular brother is the one who is included in every single one of my childhood memories.

Jeff and I are fifteen months apart, and whether I liked it or not, everything I did as a child was done with this brother. When I remember Christmas mornings - he was there. When I remember running wild on the farm - he was there. First day of school - he's there. Fighting and bickering - he's there. New puppies and baby kittens - he was there. Horses, cows, tractors, hay bales - there he was, right next to me, side by side, two peas in a pod. We learned how to ride a bike on the same day. We learned how to swim the same summer. We shared our friends and we shared our secrets. We argued over the front seat, we fought over the last piece of candy, and we suffered the divorce of our parents - together. My childhood was his childhood, and his was mine - trick or treating, Easter egg hunts, vacations, chicken pox, mumps, measles... Kelly and Jeff. All of it. Every minute of every day for the entirety of my youth included this brother. My childhood is this brother.

My brother Jeff is missing. My family has not seen or heard from him for over six months. My mom and dad have spent days and weeks searching for him - hundreds of phone calls, all have turned to dead ends. My mom has shed a bucket of tears since she last saw him. The number of hours spent wondering and worrying about his well being are too numerous to count. Sadly, my brother has a history of drug and alcohol abuse - extensive abuse that has led him down a path of self destruction. My heart has broken a million times over as I've watched him try time and time again to pick up the pieces and begin again - because I sincerely want him to succeed. I cheer him on. I root for him. I pray for him. And today, I cried for him. He's letting his past dictate his future, and I hate seeing this happen. It makes me sad. But it also makes me mad. Because this happens to too many families - to too many good people. The pain is unbearable... unbearable for the addict and unbearable for those who are helpless to change the situation. The hope is never-ending, but as far too many people know - watching the story unfold is most difficult for the family... those who love unconditionally.

Last night, my brother called my dad for the first time in over six months. His message to my father was good-bye. We don't know where he is. He wouldn't say. We don't know how he is. He wouldn't say. What he did say was that he was tired of fighting. His diabetes is taking its toll - he has no money for meds. In the past, he's lost his sight due to this disease, and I'm sure that is an ever present fear. His teeth have rotted out because he can't afford dental care. His weight is down to nil because he can't afford to go to the doctor. He has no home. He has no job. In his mind, he has no life. His health is failing and he has lost the will to fight. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Where is he? And why... please tell me why... will he not let anyone help him?

And so today, while I vacuumed, my heart shattered into a million little pieces as I listened to Sammy Hagar and remembered what used to be. I ache for the brother I once knew, and I ache for the man he could become. I ache for my mom, because there are no words to alleviate her fears or to comfort her soul. I ache for Jeff's children and grandchildren because they are being robbed of the opportunity to know his tender heart and gentle ways. But most of all, I ache for him, because I cannot imagine how dismal his life must be. I have no point of reference. I'm at a complete loss. This is so far out of my realm of experience that I am numb.

Helpless. That's how I feel. I am helpless to reach out - because I would if I could. I'd tell him I love him. I'd tell him that love does not judge. That love is unconditional. That love is built on memories, and history, and family. I'd tell him that he is an important part of my life - that I need him... I need to know that he's still there. And I'd tell him that I believe in him - that I believe he is stronger than the drugs. But I can't... because we don't know where he is.

And so now we wait and we wonder. We pray and we hope. And all the while, we weep.

This picture was taken in March 2004. His youngest son, Cody, is in the picture with us. This was the last time I saw my brother. I only wish I would have known then...