HI, Honey. I'm Home

My yard work didn't miss me at all.
How is it possible that weeds thrive without water, and grass struggles for the breath of life? That seems a cruel trick of God. My back yard is so white-trash, that I was thinking of investing in pink flamingo yard art.
My attention has been focused on laundry and domestic inside sorts of things. I cleaned out the 'fridge, and bathed. And moved furniture back out to the living room, on to the new carpet.
We were released from the hospital about 10 p.m. last night. I needed a U-haul to carry all the stuff we'd accumulated home. Michael was positively buoyant upon his release, but has found himself disappointingly exhausted today. He's been sleeping this afternoon. I was thinking that a nap would be a really smart move for yours-truely, as well.
I'm glad to be home, despite all the catch-up that needs to be done.
The past week has been a productive adjustment of all things priority. Do you know that a ruptured appendix was usually a death sentance just a short few years ago? That realization brought into sharp relief all that I have to be thankful for. My boy is alive. My life is pretty sweet, in truth. The yard is a disaster zone, but I have loads to be glad about.
I'm hugging my kids a little tighter today.
Peace and quiet, family and food, health and prosperity....all these can change in a moment. Ah, but we are loved. God is Good. At least I have a yard to hate.
My children are great, and my future is bright.
That, and I can take a nap if I want to.

Looking forward

I was remembering back to those days when I used to sleep at night. Those were good times.

This morning, when breakfast began, Michael covered his grin with the rind of an orange, and smiled at me. This seemed a good sign. He's been laughing, and eating a bit, and strutting with a swaggar, as he pulls his I.V. thru the hallways. We're gonna make it.
The doctor said she's kick us out tomorrow. O! The blissful thought of a night in my own bed.
Don lives in fear that I am going to collect him from the Disneyland of his current existance. He's been staying with Tim, whose goal it has been to steal my child's heart. Don has had a later than usual bedtime, an in-ground pool, TV, video games, and junk food. He pretty much wants to marry Tim.

My little sister is coming over to the hospital this afternoon, so I can go out in the real world for a bit. I am going to go play with Tim and the kids for a few hours. Tim is going to cook for me, since I have had only hospital food for the past week. Is it needless to say that I've lost five pounds?

Summer seems to have begun in earnest. It's painful to be indoors when the sun is so bright outside. Tomorrow, we go home. Back to yard work, and chores, bills, and schoolwork.

On to the next adventure.

Day 6 in the hospital

Well, hi from the hospital.
Michael seems to be better today, which is a cause for Heavenly rejoicing. Having a sick child sucks.
I find, as I walk through the halls in search of coffee or private bathroom facilities, that I envy those recently showered. Besides sleep, and sunshine, I miss showers more than most things.
My mother is due here shortly to relieve me, so that I can go home and bathe.
Michael currently has had at least as many tubes removed, as he still has in. That's a vast improvement. Still no word on when we may expect to go home. My understanding at the outset was that a week to 10 days was the very minimum. That puts us home early next week....maybe.
He's been sick enough, so far, that he has not suffered ennui. That should be our next hurdle.
This sort of thing has the effect of thowing a large dose of perspective on one's life. Nothing much matters when your kid is near death. Heck, food and rest seem to be luxuries.
We are thankful for so very much. The prayers, the people, and the relationships that have sustained us here, grant us so much cause to smile.
I'll keep you posted.

A screeching halt

My great big 14-year-old man-child is sick. I am giving you a very brief update, since I came home to shower and sleep, just briefly.
We rushed Michael to the emergency room Saturday evening, and found that his apendix had ruptured.
He is a total stud. Who could stand so much pain without crumbling?
Yesterday morning he had surgery to remive the offending organ. The infection was wide-spread, and included such malignant horrors as gangrene. In my baby.

My Mother is at the hospital with him now. I simply had to sleeep; I'd been up for 41 hours. Can you imagine? I managed a couple of cat-naps during that time, but who can sleep under those circumstances?

Please pray, if you are a praying sort. He is certainly not 'out of the woods.'

I am going back in moments, and will likely be there for most of the next week or ten days. That's if he doesn't get worse.

Pray.

On what I did all week

I did my whole weigh-in thing, and I measured my body fat. You'll be very surprised to note that I only seem to have lost 2 pounds. Apparently one needs to eat less to lose weight. What fun is that? The better news is that I also seem to have lost 2% of my body-fat. So that's good.

Michael has discovered a weight-loss plan, though hardly an enviable one. He was up sick all night. Lysol is my new best friend. That poor child.

I need to go take a picture of Tim's rafters for you. He has lovely rafters, and they're all exposed. The demolition is in full swing. I told you about that, right? He's adding on because he loves me.

You should come to my house for my garage sale on Saturday, by the way. Buy my treasures! Tim is going to come over and beg people not to leave empty-handed. There are piles of useless things everywhere I look. Why do I have so much stuff? I've got this accumulation of years. All of them are in the garage awaiting Saturdays sale.

What kind of an update is this? Can you believe that I haven't written in a week? I haven't even read blogs in a week. There's days I don't even get on the blasted computer.

Kara and I sat and enjoyed a philosophical discussion the other day. We haven't gotten together in a while, so we hung out one evening drinking wine. I don't do so much of that wine stuff these days, so I'm a much cheaper date. Kara is going to come along with me to Park City for the boy's lacrosse tournament. It was so good to have a little girl time. Lately, I've had no social time to speak of, outside of Tim and the kids (and lacrosse). We represent a social network all our own. With all the kids activities, we have plenty to do. I am so looking forward to sitting by the pool all Summer! Won't that be relaxing? Saws and hammers buzzing above our heads as we recline on the patio.....

I promised you a movie review, didn't I? The new Star Trek movie is great great great!!! If you loved the Captain Kirk shows all those years ago, you will totally love this.
That's a brief movie review, eh?

Ugh, I need to scrub the kitchen floor before the kids get up, so I am going to bid you farewell. There is a chance that I'll write more quite soon. Or, not. O, the suspense.

Gluttony

I have a food-hangover. Is that possible? I ate an alarming number of calories yesterday. It began with the Dairy Queen Blizzard. Then there were two corn dogs, fries, edamame, leftover junk from the 'fridge.....it was an eating extraveganza. Do you ever get just rabid about eating? I would have eaten more if I could find it. So I woke with a headache, and I don't feel so good.

My thoughts on religion

I was having an email conversation with a friend, which turned into a fictitious dialouge in my head. Do you ever do that? I figured, when I was nowhere near the computer, that it would make a good blog. Only I didn't have a pen. Let's see if I can remember what I was going to talk about.

We were discussing religion, actually. He's sort of interested in exploring various religions.
It seems to me that religion is a largely consumer driven thing. I shop for what I want.
If I am looking for a politically neutral community, with high moral values, great programs for the kids, and a Saturday evening service, I might shop around until I find something I like, and then I'll complain about the music. Or I can change my mind, and switch to something more appropriate for whatever stage of life I find myself in.
God is different, though.
If He is real(and I believe that He is), then I need to set out to know Him, rather than dictating how I would like Him to be.
Imagine that I march up to some handsome man, say, for instance, Tim. And I say, "Gee, big guy, I'd like to have you for my boyfriend." Well, that would be swell. Then, imagine that I define him as I want him to be. "I want you to be outgoing, socially conscious, a great skier with 6 kids, and a home in Aspen." Do you suppose he'd think I was crazy? I doubt he'd have much to do with me.
All of us, handsome men included, want to be known as we are.
Even God has to be sought out for Who He really is, otherwise I've just invented an imaginary friend.
Maybe an imaginary friend is just what I'm looking for.
But, If I want Truth, I've got to take it as I find it. That's true for anything, but especially with people.

That's really what I was thinking about today, as I drove about town in my car.

Oh, I stopped over at Tim's house. You know what? He has a big ol' dumpster, and a porta-potty in front. It looks like Arkansas!
Construction is happening! Who is excited?
Truly, I just can hardly believe that such a great man loves me so much, that he would go through all the inconvienience of remodeling, so he can keep me. Isn't that wonderful? It's like a great big monument to his love for me....with a porta-potty and a dumpster.

.....Ugh, there are hungry children in my house, and so now I have to end this thrilling tale to be responsible.

One more thing, though. Michael and Don are both in the top 20 best lacrosse players, in their age groups, in the valley. They are so cool.

ok, bye now.

To boldly go....

...Where no man has gone before.
Which, given my celibate decade-long history, could suggest rather a tawdry post. Alas, the reference is pure Star Trek.

I am really excited about the new movie, and we are going to see it, sans children, Friday night. The Summer movies are a reason for heart palpitations, in my book. Of course, so is Tim, and this Summer particularly, given the approaching marriage. Did I mention that he seems to like me? No, I mean it. Demolition/construction begins on his house tomorrow. He is building rooms for my boys, and also a bathroom, and also a bit of storage. Because he loves me.

Last weekend we saw Wolverine. Do not believe those silly reviewing people, because the movie was great. Lots of explosions and comic book violence. Plus, Logan was totally hot in the movie, and the quality acting was superb-ish. I give it lots of thumbs up.

I am on the edge of my seat waiting for the new Harry Potter, too. Half of my readers are now convinced that I am going to Hell for saying that. Harry Potter is the Bomb.
Also, the new Night at the Museum is coming out soon. That first one was a funny kids movie. We're taking all the young'uns in a couple weeks. I'll give you some sort of review as we see these grand silver screen adventures. I know that's why you read these blogs; For the intelligent pop culture dialogue.

I am a trekie, and there's no help for it. In college I once went to a Star Trek Convention. For real. It was rather an accident, because we totally heard that it was being held at a big hotel downtown, so we crashed it. I don't remember who "we" was. In case you were going to ask.
I have watched Star Trek over the years in the same way that other people watch their soap operas. Back when I had a TV, anyway. It's a pretty serious fixation. Now, they've made me another movie. I heart them.

Movies are really a very fine invention. Which probably indicates that I will be a TV addict once we move in with Tim. TV is like a mini movie. You know how I've taken to watching 24? It's this really long movie, that we watch bit-by-bit, every week. How cool is that?
This is what happens to people who live without a TV. In case you were wondering.

In other news: I have been spending my days with Lacrosse and work. Which is very surprising. Just to spice up my days, I bark at my children for leaving the house in a constant mess.
Sometimes I beat them.
Just kidding.
I tried to wrestle Michael tonight, and he picked me up in the air, and threw me over his shoulder, and carried me like a bag of wheat. He is very strong, and I am apparently helpless in the face of his power. So I hope he behaves. Because if he needs a spanking, I'm in trouble.

Mothering is what I do. And also eating.

Happy Day of the Mom. We celebrated all weekend.

After our daily lacrosse involvement, yesterday, we squeezed in 30 minutes of evening church. It was quite brilliant, really. We went for the singing part, and then we left. We skipped the sermon entirely.

We went to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, where I ate a mere 1/2 of my entree, and still had no room for dessert.
This has nothing to do with having some virtuous lady-like appetite.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I am capable of consuming a mastodon, with a loaf of sourdough, and then going back for seconds.
The simple fact of the matter, is that the meal was enormous.

Today we slept in, since we attended church last night. On account of we are so holy as to make weekly attendance a priority.
Then it was off to Mother's where we celebrated by watching her do all the work. That is what Mothers do. She made a fabulous lunch, where I over-ate again. What diet? I was trying to calculate how many redeeming hours I'll need on the treadmill. The math was too difficult, since all life force was diverted to my digestive processes. But I'll bet it's a lot. Being beautiful is such a burden.

But, we were talking about Mothers Day.

I think that being a mom is really wonderful/heartbreaking/frustrating/hard-work/glorious. That is what I think.
I know gals who want to, and can't;
gals who don't plan on it, but do;
Dads who do it despite gender, simply out of necessity;
and all sorts of other mom-types.
I've seen some that shouldn't be allowed the responsibility,
and others who do it with tremendous finesse.
There's quite a lot of variety in the mom department.

Personally, I love it.

It's rather an underpaid position, though. Which seems a shame.
With adequate compensation, the good moms could afford to be better, and the not-so-good might be motivated to earn a raise, by improving their skills. We could even have benefits. A 401k program, life and health, maybe even dental. Legislate that, Obama. Oh, dear. I shouldn't really be encouraging him, now, should I?

Wow! Who is long-winded tonight?
This is a Mother of a post, eh? Get it? Mother....of a post...? See, I'm funny too. All that goodness, and I don't even charge extra.

Public School, used for my devilish purposes

I am in danger of being late to the gym, but I felt it was important to fill you in on the riveting goings-on of my life.
That's how important you are to me.

So, we're moving. In August, I shall move across town, which will put us in a different school district. You would think that since my children don't actually attend school, this would be a non-issue. You would be wrong.
Michael was all geared up to be in High School next year, and to play sports with his buddies. He was also counting on playing for a winning team. The school district we are moving to has ninth graders in Jr. High, and this feels like a terrible demotion to him. They also wear uniforms to school, which makes them uncool. And they do not win at athletics. He is seriously bummed.
However, because he is the most resilient young man in creation, he is coming around to the idea nicely. Within hours of accepting that his athletic prowess would be wasted, he decided that the school colors aren't so bad. Plus, he could single-handedly turn that team into a winning team. Maybe he has a chance to really stand out.
I had a brilliant flash of inspiration, myself. After taking with the school principal, and the counselor, I saw the light. My children, who will both be playing sports there, could each attend a couple of classes. English and Computer skills, for instance. If they went there the last two hours of the day, then they could go directly to the locker room for whichever sport was in season. They'd still be home educated, it's just that this would have them occupied for several hours each afternoon. Given the fact that I will be a newlywed, I think this idea has marvelous potential.
I'm brilliant.
Doncha think?

A blip on your screen

I firmly believe that there is little a good night's sleep won't cure.
Of course, a day off helps a lot, too.
This morning, I am off to the gym, and then home to educate my boys, and clean this pigsty.
Any moment, something very amusing will occur, and then I will blog about it. Just now, however, there's not much to say. Therefore, I shall proceed through my morning, allert to any opportunity, and will meet you back here at the first sign of news.

Money makes the world go round

I am having a mild financial crisis, owing to the fact that I can not, in fact, afford life. That, and those weekends away that just keep coming. That, and the fact that I worked a 13 hour day.
When your mother works a 13 hour day to send you to all the freaking expensive lacrosse extravaganzas in the US, she better not come home to a messy kitchen. I'm just sayin'.
Today was a nightmare of work. The thing is, I just don't earn enough to pay my bills fully, even when I'm working my ever lovin' self into the grave. Who feels sorry for herself?
I'm on antibiotics. I know that will do little for my financial status, or my mood, but it should deal with the sinus infection quite efficiently.
Saturday, as you know, we were in the beautiful town of Pocatello, Idaho. It was.....big shock.... a lacrosse tournament. It rained like unto the ancient flood of Noah, and yours truly stood in the frigid wetness for hours. That's just the kind of mom I am. Therefore, I am dying of sleep deprivation and massive head congestion. But, other than that, it was a great weekend. I did get kissed, and that elevates the entire weekend well above the majority of weekends from the past 39 years. Tim's great.
I, however, am in dire need of my second dose of antibiotic and a large glass of wine.
More tomorrow. Or the next day.

News Flash

I am a slave to lacrosse.
We're off this morning to a big ol' tournament that both of the boys are playing in.
You'll be glad to know that I am feeling much better. In fact, my swine flu seems to have only been allergies. Mother bought me allergy meds, and now I'm right as rain.
Speaking of rain,
We should be in rain, and near freezing temperatures, at the tournament all weekend. No doubt that will go a long way towards ensuring good health for my family.

Do you like how I have so much to do, and I'm choosing to blog instead? It's predictably responsible of me.

It's May. Had you noticed? Any moment I am going to freak out about that. May means that next month is June, and then July, and before you know it, August.
I shall be 39 in June, and on a trip to Park City.
Packing frantically in July.
Married in August.

And, no, I am not officially engaged.

The addition on Tim's house begins this month, though, which indicates that he is more or less committed. He's adding on bedrooms for Michael and Don, and also a bathroom. And a bit of storage space, since I am a great collector of stuff. I am wildly eliminating all the superfluous junk I own. Which seems to be a shocking amount.
I totally wasn't going to blog about this until I was "officially" engaged, but it's dominating my days, and so I suppose it's only right to write about it. See?
I need to have a garage sale. I might call it an "estate sale" since that will sound more regal, and then I can charge more.
Everyone who walks thru my door is leaving with stuff. A bookcase? A mirror? Books? Take 'em!
How is the world does one merge two households? The blended family issues seem small compared with the blended stuff issues. He is a minimalist, and I am uninhibitedly Victorian-clutter in my approach to decorating. Which should drive him to drink.

Now that I have that off my chest, I am going to jump in the shower, and pack up the car. Michael just told me that we have to leave in 30 minutes. Oh, dear.