Catching Up

Hello gang. Sorry for the disappearing act. I've been busy with work deadlines, applying for more work, and just being a mom/wife/friend. In other words, life has been keeping me occupied more than usual. Concerns over finances have made it harder for me to concentrate on the more fun aspects of life too--like posting to my blog.

Work is looking a little better but I keep applying left and right to anything that seems possible, so I imagine that early 2011 will be even stronger. The thing I notice is that my drive to find new jobs, apply for projects and learn new skills is not what it was five or even two years ago. I still chase after them but, somewhere in the back of my mind, I admit to thinking oh man . . . I don't wannnnnna do that. I wanna sit on the couch, read, nap, watch movies, go camping, write letters, and then repeat. I imagine there isn't a person on the planet who works who doesn't go through this. And I really do love my job but I guess I am just getting a little older and looking forward to "down time" more than I used to.

I've been giving thought to teaching again. I've been asked by various homeschoolers to teach a writing class to adults and I'm interested but I have to earn enough to make it worth my time (as I won't be writing during that time and so will lose money if I don't charge enough to make it at least somewhat comparable) and yet not cause stress/strain to the homeschoolers themselves. I keep mulling over different possibilities in my head.

If you didn't already know this about me, I am a big time letter writer. I love writing to people, picking out stationery, decorating it, sticking "bits-n-bobs" inside them, wrapping up little gifts, I just get a kick out of it. I have more stationery than any human I know (other than shop owners and I may have them tied) and little thrills me as much as a great paper find at the local Goodwill. (Are you rolling your eyes and thinking I need to get out more about now?) Now if only I could find a way to combine writing letters and getting paid. Can't you see it? "For a mere $25/month, I will write your Grandma Martha for you once a week!" or "Tired of responding to those pesky letters from relatives you don't remember? Let me take care of it for you." A letter writing service--gotta love it. Actually, I am hoping to write a book about letter writing for students in the coming months. I usually have my fishing line in so many writing jobs ponds, even I have trouble keeping track.

So, I'm still here and still kicking. Well, okay, not kicking perhaps, but moving around. Stay tuned--you know I'll be back.

Happy 20!

Remember the remarkable Nicole that I introduced to you a few weeks ago? Well, as I write this, she has officially become 20 years old. Now I know that it actually has been 20 chronological years, but emotionally, it feels like it has been . . . about six years or so. I can clearly remember my triple chinned baby. I can see her playing dress up. I can recall her struggling to learn to read and the adorable way she transposed letters when she spoke. And yet, as sad as I am to see that delightful little girl disappear, I am equally thrilled to see the young woman develop. She is just one of those people that make the world a better place. Virtually anyone who gets to know her absolutely adores her. Her parents certainly do. Her brothers do. Her boyfriend definitely does.

So, if you have a moment, please stop to email a happy birthday to Miss Nicole. Her address is waterswhisper@comcast.net. She is a unique, funny, kind, talented young woman and if you take the time to get to know her, you will be glad you did.

Happy Birthday beautiful daughter o'mine.

28 and Counting

Yesterday Joseph and I celebrated 28 years of marriage. Since we were relatively broke, it was a quiet celebration. We got some coffee, cuddled on the couch and read the newspaper, took a lovely nap together and made a tasty dinner. In the evening, Nicole's boyfriend Jon, treated the family to a double feature at the local movie theatre. We saw "Inception" (fascinating, confusing and impressive) and "Salt" (action heavy, unbelieveable and fun). We came home and he had some wine, I had some chocolate and we called it a day.

28 years has gone by so very fast. We have raised four kids, suffered through three miscarriages, ended one career and developed another, moved across the entire country, endured heartbreaks and victories, bonded through health emergencies,. switched places within the family unit, lost people we loved dearly and throughout all of it, we have managed to stay in love. I find that pretty remarkable. And in a completely secular way, I also consider it an amazing blessing. I only wish for my children to find mates that they can feel this way about 28 years later. What a treasure.

Torture Time

Today has been a day I wouldn't wish on anyone . . . . I am older, wiser and so much more tired, I cannot begin to tell you.

Yesterday I had blood in my urine a couple of times and hoped it was just a period getting started. I felt a pang when going to bed but slept all night. When I got up this morning, I took a shower and by the time it was over, my back and side were getting pretty touchy. Trying to ignore it, I got dressed and climbed in the car to go and pick up Nicole. Within five minutes, I had Joseph take me back home. I did NOT feel good.

I thought it would help to lie down. Nope. In fact, made it worse. Moving seemed a little better. I began pacing. I paced and paced and paced the bedroom floor. I tried drinking water, using a heat pack and stretching. No relief.

After almost an hour of pacing and even walking up and down the street in front of the house, I began crying. Soon, I was also vomiting. Finally, after calling the doctor, Joseph told me we were going to the hospital.

I fought that decision because I knew what it would cost . . . without insurance, it would be astronomical. I knew we would be paying the bill off for months to come. But in the end, I agreed simply because I have never, ever, ever felt pain like that.

I've had four babies completely without any anesthesia.

I've had a broken rib while 8 months pregnant.

I've had several car accidents.
I've had a number of surgeries.

NONE of them compared to this. NONE. This was a pain that was so intense and so non-stop that I began hutting myself in other ways in an attempt to distract myself. I bit my hand. I pinched myself. I did whatever I could think of. On a scale of 1 to 10, this was a 42.

The trip to the hospital was the worst. We hit construction and were in bumper to bumper traffic. I hit the door, cried, shook, cried, and pleaded with traffic to move faster. We finally got to the hospital and when the admitting clerk told me I had three people in front of me, I thought I would die. I paced and paced and cried and paced and they finally got me in. My BP was 250/110 and I could barely stop moving long enough for them to take it. Thankfully, they processed me through pretty fast . . . . and then I had a horribly painful IV put into my wrist (spraying blood all over the floor in the process). But then, bless 'em, they gave me morphine. All hail morphine. Good stuff, baby. In about 2 minutes, I was floating and finally, finally, the pain stopped. I cried again, this time in relief.

They took me in for a CAT scan (which is wayyyyyyyyyy better than an MRI) and, as we had pretty much figured out, I was passing a kidney stone. By this time, it was almost to the bladder which means I was close to being done with the process. They took some blood, gave me some pain meds and finally sent me home.

I am not sure I have ever been that tired. I slept for 90 minutes and then got back up. I have spent the evening on the couch and am ready to collapse from fatigue already. I am counting the seconds until I am back in bed and this day is completely behind me.

It was a very bad, no good, rotten, awful, terrible, lousy day.

If you know anyone who has passed a kidney stone, call them and tell them how sorry you are, no matter how long ago it might have happened. I am pretty sure they will remember the event quite well--this is one kind of pain you just never forget.

Questioning Yourself

I have been going through a bit of an emotional "funk" lately. I'm trying to pull myself out of it, but so far, it ain't workin'. I find myself going through a period of questioning myself, questioning things about me that I believe are true and then suddenly, I feel like maybe . . I'm not.

Case in point #1: I worked on a nightmare of a project for six months. I put amazingly long hours into it, did enormous amounts of research, wrote, rewrote, revised, re-revised, trying to complete it as the editor was asking. Directions were vague to say the least. While working on it, the company gave me two other projects to work on . . . . it was stressful and I really poured myself into it. Editor B said I did a great job on project 2. Editor A, however, started with comments like "could use a few changes" and escalated to "we have hired someone else to fix everything you did, so you aren't likely to get paid". Many rants have been inspired by this project, lemme tell ya. At this point, I am guessing the $2000 I was expecting will turn into something like $200.

Case in point #2: I, like a billion other people on the planet, was looking around Facebook and came across my fiancee from back in the late 1970s. Thinking, apparently like a WOMAN, I thought I would say hello to him. Since then, we have exchanged about a dozen emails in which I have been told I basically ruined his life. I mean, it was 30 years ago people. I figured he was long married and had kids and I wanted to wish him a happy life. Best of intentions. But clearly, I have caused him a life time of pain. Okay then . . . .

Case in point #3: I wrote a column for Home Education Magazine that yes, had some seriousness to it, but was mostly just a call for young people to take parenting seriously and to educate themselves on important issues before blindly making childrearing decisions. Once again, best of intentions. Instead, I seem to have upset some readers and even a friend of mine found a lot to question in what I said.

So, I find myself flucuating between confidence in my beliefs and abilities and memories and self-doubt about them. I know this ties into the fact that work is slow, income is down, winter is coming and my emotional well-being is a little shakier than usual. See that huge black spiral I seem to be caught in?

I think I'd better find a life preserver pretty quick.

Meet Nicole

I am not even sure where to start with this one. Besides being my daughter, she is one of the dearest friends I have. She is who I wanna go to Goodwill with. Who I want to watch a movie with. Who I laugh hardest with. Who I share deepest secrets with. Who I like to hang with. She is just a wonderful person, not just my child. Funny, smart, kind, loving, silly and adorable.

So here is Nicole. She is less than a month from turning 20. (EEEEEEK). She is madly in love with a handsome guy who has pretty much become part of our family (Jon). She has a part time job as a cashier at Sizzler's. She is a budding actress. She writes up a storm and is getting ready to do her fifth National Novel Writing Month/NaNoWriMo competition.

She has a wonderful relationship with her brothers. They both adore her and look to her for advice and encouragement. She actually enjoys spending time with them and they take walks, go out to eat, ride the max into the city and just talk, talk, talk. She has a relationship with them that I would have loved the chance to have had with my brother.

Nicole has a lot of living to do before she settles down . . . she hopes to do a lot of traveling and exploring the world. She wants to discover more passions than she already has and most likely will do this by seeing other people, other parts of the world. I will enjoy each moment vicariously. I am alrady planning on fantastic care packages to send to her.

Nicole hates spiders.

Calls the mound of mess in her room her personal POC (pile of crap).

Dreams of buying a kayak.

Gives amazing back massages.

Is graceful, elegant and articulate.

Despites doing research.

Wishes people would ask her more questions when they chat.

Is crazy about Neil Patrick Harris and "Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog"

Writes fantastic letters.

Makes me laugh uncontrollably.
Brings me occasional chocolate.

Searches for a best friend (mothers only go so far in that deparment).

Is a sucker for a good romance novel.
Adores theatre as much as I do.

She is an amazing person, more beautiful inside than outside and I love just atching her blossom and bloom and become. And I get a front row seat!

Meet Coryn

This handsome fella is Coryn Aslan Sebastian Orr. He is 14 years old. . . technically. I believe his soul is closer to 40 or so. His sense of humor has been years ahead of his chronological age for a long time. It is wicked and funny and often embarassing.

If you met Coryn while he was out and about, you would come away with the impression that he was sweet, quiet and polite. If you got to know him well, you would know that he is sweet. He does have good manners. Quiet? HA. Not for a moment.

Coryn is smart--and knows it. He is a smart . . . a. . . let's say aleck. He reads faster than the speed of light can hit the page. He is our resident computer geek. He recently went from a shy homebody to a teenager desperate to connect with other teenagers.

From the time he was born, he was a ham. Bring out a camera and he smiles. At only a few months old, he seemed to know there was a camera in the room and would pose. By the age of one, he would stop, smile and wait for the flash. Today he still makes faces for pictures and if someone picks up a camera, unlike his other brother who immediately hides before he can be caught, he turns to the photographer and waits. Perhaps that is why, today, he seems to lean toward a passion for photography.

He has an infectious laugh that makes me smile whenever I hear it. He loves a dirty joke more than almost anyone I've ever met. I can't tell you how many times he has read the jokes in the National Lampoon book.

Coryn had problems with homesickness for a long time. On the one hand, I felt bad for him. On the other, since he is my youngest, I didn't really mind. Now that he is completely past it, I kinda miss it. But I really AM happy for him. I was pressured to force him to get over it . . . but I waited, loved him and you know, he got over it when he was ready.

Recently I wrote a tongue in cheek article for Home Education Magazine that apparently upset a few readers. I feel badly about that because that was never my intent. When one reader wrote a letter to the magazine stating that I was clearly a bad mother, all three of my kids responded by writing letters to the magazine. Their words of love and support warmed my heart. Coryn's letter stated, "My parents are loving, caring, noncontrolling, helpful and full of great advice. They let me be who I want to be. If I ask for their help, then they help. They would never push thier ideals on me. Coryn Orr--a child who is a giant fan of his childhood and family".

Not too shabby, that boy. He makes the world a better place for me and for anyone who gets the chance to spend time with him.

PS Please note that Jon, Nicole's boyfriend, wants to take this opportunity to say hello to the world. And that he is great (and obviously humble).