Memory Monday

COUNTRY: Spain (where we lived)
DATE: Circa early 1996
LOCATION: Living Room Couch
KIDS' AGES: 3 1/2 years
PRESENT: Ex, Daughter, Son - Mom looking on
SETTING: Ex (then "Dad") & Kids rough-housing in the living room. Mom watching

Son hits Ex. Daughter says, in her sweet yet articulate and quite serious voice, "Don't hit him - he's ooooooold."

Ex has yet to live that one down....

OH and for the record, did mom say, "What about mommy?" And the reply? "Oh no, you're not old mommy." Out of the mouths of babes....

Hey Carol P - You Missing a Goat?

Heard this 911 call on the radio yesterday - seems someone lost their goat. Yep, a goat on a bus. I thought it was snakes on a plane? Well out in Oregon, you have goats on a bus. Alls well that ends well. Thought you might enjoy hearing the call.

Quick Post Friday

Call to House approx time 2:45 pm: Teens have been dropped off at home after driving class. Mom: at work Outside temperature: Nearing 90 and humidity 90% i.e. "oppressive"
After discussion of class and their day....

MOM: Stay home, OK guys? NO pizza parties (like yesterday when I was home to superivse and, oh, buy the pizza that showed up at the door before you arrived from the pool. I guess you called it in from the pool...), no friends over (like the day before that), no "I have to go here's now" (like the day before THAT) I actually have some billable projects I need to finish today, ok?
KIDS: Sure mom, we're not going anywhere. We got you...
ELAPSED TIME 10 SECONDS:
DAUGHTER: OH yeah I'm going to Alyssa's at 6 for her party.....um but I can walk...
MOM: [knowing Alyssa] isn't this her birthday party?
DAUGHTER: OH yeah that I need a present for her...and the gift card drawer seems to be empty...
MOM: Um how long have you known about this party????
DAUGHTER: Oh only like, you know, a week, but, um, I forgot until today
MOM: SIGH....If I can get home by 5:30 I will [note: commute 1 hour], and I'll drive you. I have a conference call now... I'll call you later....but I might not make it home. You know, I have to work today?? {NOTE: 1 year ago, when married, I would not have done this. But feeling compelled to be the "good" mom I feel compelled to get home and support this. I'm sure this is the wrong thing to be doing, but, well, here I am doing it anyway}
DAUGHTER: OK thanks mom, see you later....

Do they hear me? Anything I say???

Getting it off my Chest

I need to get something off my chest. And what better place than a blog?

Or maybe its more like clearing the air about my chest.

See, back when I started this blog, I didn't think about anyone actually reading it. And in my stream of consciousness, I wrote this. See that third line tossed in there as an aside? the Boobs thing? Geez, I can't believe the stir that caused. Emails. Phone calls. Comments. Funny!

Once and for all yes I had "breast augmentation." Really. I didn't realize it was such a big deal. And for those of you who haven't seen me since May 14, 2007 ("D" day - or more accurately "C" day), I am not the next generation of Dolly Parton. No, it was the opportunity to fix the ravages of breast-feeding twins plus add a little to the before-kids size that I never quite thought was big enough. And I did it for me. To feel better about me. I posted about it on my other blog, under Self-Indulgences. That's how I felt about it a year ago. Today I sing it loud and proud.

The funniest thing is I didn't say anything about the specifics when taking time off work - I just said it was for "girl stuff." And I wore clothes to try to "hide it" at first. Because I had some silly fear that they wouldn't take me seriously as a lawyer if I had bigger boobs. (HUH? Don't ask...) Anyway, I later discovered that the men in the office noticed in 30 seconds or less. I guess they are not as sweet and innocent as my cousin DF. (see comments) But fortunately, they were too wary of a lawsuit for harassment to say anything. Then how do I know? Bossman told a friend who told his brother who told me....twisted but true.

I am happy with the "new me." I don't regret doing it - I only regret that I didn't do it 10 years ago. And I don't ask for people to understand it if they can't. I have friends who think it was silly of me. And that's ok, because I didn't do it for them. I did it for me.

Truth Is Stranger than Fiction

OR DIP AND RUN AT SALSA...
Wednesday night salsa lessons, just me and Mini-Me (my coworker, blonde, blue eye, 2 inches shorter than I, 8 years younger). Mini-Me is quite the salsa-er and has hooked me, too. She goes weekly, I go during the kidless weeks. After lessons we stay for "open dancing." Being a Wednesday, it's quiet, but "Tito" from Puerto Rico spins us around the floor. He and mini-me start stirring it up, and I get stuck watching. I beg to go home, but mini-me is getting her groove on, so I stick it out. Eventually I get moving myself and am learning some sophisticated turns from a more experienced dancer when suddenly Mini-me is gone. I sit down next to Tito (really, that's his name) who says, "Man did you see what happened?"
ME: What do you mean?

TITO: Mini-Me hit her head and is bleeding everywhere...
ME: [on full alert and panicking] WHERE IS SHE?
TITO: In the bathroom
I bolt to said ladies room to discover mini-me with a now red head instead of blond, perched on the counter, looking into her tiny compact at the back of her head. She looks up at me with doe-eyes and says, "I can't figure out where the blood is coming from...." I wipe her down, take a quick look, bolt to the bar for a bag of ice, "Hielo en una bolsa ahorita por favor!" (Freaks them out when the blond, white chick speaks Spanish). Assess damage to mini-me, determine that although not deep it is long, so we head to the hospital. Tito follows us to the car, apologizing for dipping Mini-me into the giant square column that's in the middle of the dance floor that he forgot about. Dipped her right into the column. With great force. Nice... Oh did I mention that Tito is taller than average, works out (and/or takes steriods) and is somewhat...well. orange. Kind of looks like a giant oompaloompa...anyway.
Mini-me checks in at the hospital (fills out a card and drops it in the box. She says, "I want to see a Dr not leave a comment!) and is seen in record time. Note to self: Although salsa dancing is hot and we wear shorts and tank tops and dancing shoes, bring a jacket so that you don't walk into hospitals at 12:30 a.m. in 50 degree weather looking like a street walker. Once the Drs and nurses determine we are:
1) not drunk (we only drink water - salsa is a workout!)
2) not hookers
3) not dying or otherwise mortally injured
they get a huge kick out of Mini-me's drive-by dip and run injury story. I try to explain that Mini-me is a really good dancer. Nurse John Smith rolls his eyes and says, "Oh yeah, obviously..." Mini-me escapes without stitches after some debate among the Drs. She's asked 7 or 8 times when her last tetnus shot was. She repeatedly answers, "I don't know." Finally Nurse John Smith (really his name) asks again, and the lawyer in me answers for her, "You know, you can ask that question as many times as you like and the answer isn't going to change. She said she doesn't remember." He knows we are both lawyers and starts cracking up. We leave an hour later with some pain pills, a sore arm for Mini-me after the shot, some bacitracin (sp?) and rants from another patient about "molotov cocktails."
Who knew Salsa could be so dangerous?

Memory Monday - Going Home

Went home for the weekend - home as in to my mom and dad's and where most of my siblings live - to celebrate my niece's college graduation. She was 2 when she was a perfect flowergirl in my wedding. I have a photo of us standing beside my yellow subaru hand-me-down station wagon just before I left Home - right after the honeymoon as I went home one more time to collect my "stuff" and drive to my new home with my new husband. She was 2, chubby and gorgeous with big blue eyes and cute brown hair. (if i could figure out my scanner i would post it. alas, not tonight). She doesn't remember me living close to her. Only I carry the memories of that phone call while at college, "She's here - your new niece is here!" and rushing 45 minutes from school to home to see her in the hospital. Only I carry the memories of her first christmas and the "bapple" [apple] she wanted from "Tanta" and putting together piles of toys "some assembly required" until the wee hours of the morning with my brother (yet another family ritual I gave up when I got married and moved). Ex came into my life shortly after she was born. She was the youngest "baby" he ever held (she was about 10 months old!) Now she is 22 and a striking young woman.That's my two flower girls - once 2 and 6, they are now 22 (left) and 26 (right), holding the artwork the 26 year old painted for her sister's graduation. Along the way we created memories when I came home to visit - trips to the movies, the week I stayed and babysat them while their parents went on a vacation (before my kids came along), the trip to "Dirvinga Veach" [Virginia Beach] when she was 6 and I was pregnant with the twins. The time she came to visit for 4th of July and was in my house about 5 minutes when she slipped and fell outside and went to the hospital for stitches in the chin. The summer she came and lived with me and was Nanny to her cousins.
And as I left home - again - for the 100th (??) time - leaving her graduation party early so that I could get back home at a reasonable hour, I felt the anger and the bitterness creep in to where a happy girl once stood. Gone is the newlywed full of hopes and dreams and a future. In her place is the divorcee, who has spent the better part of 20 years away from her family, missing out on birthdays and graduations and births and mother's day and father's day and picnics and christmases and easters and thanksgivings and surgerys and car accidents and nursing the sick. And what am I left with? Living in a place where I don't want to be. Surrounded by his family, a family Ex wants me to "leave alone." Spending hours on the phone with my mom, my sisters, my brothers, texting my nieces and nephews, planning the "next trip" home.
No, I don't really want to live Home either. It's cold. And my profession has much more opportunity where I live currently than at Home. Indeed, I am toying with moving another 1000 miles south. But while driving away from Home back to my house and my kids, I can't help but wonder what life would have been like if I had stayed Home all those years ago. If I hadn't missed out on all those family events. And I wonder, how many more years will I be blessed with the gift of my parents and the ability to go back HOME?
And as I drive down the road, I hear this song, and I know I want to go Home....

P.S. "interesting mail" and Same Keys

A number of you have asked for a follow-up, "What is interesting mail to a teenager?"
Answer: the latest netflix movie and a lovely thank you card from her Aunt regarding some get well flowers we sent. She is also getting inundated with college materials since taking her PSATs and is always looking for information on colleges.

As for the keys - remember that the in-laws used to live next door. FIL is a regular McGuiver. Seriously. He does stuff like built me a light (the actual light) so that when I open my corner cabinet under my sink, a light magically goes on. And when you close the door, it goes off. And that's small potatoes for him. Anyway, FIL keyed ALL the locks in both houses (deadbolts, everything) to work to one key. And the alarm codes on both houses? the same. Made it easy for us when they lived next door to check each other's houses, FIL could come over at will and fix things (I used to joke about the Fix-It Elf who visited while I was at work - lights in pantries magically appeared, new electrical outlets, etc. Oh he's a licensed electrical engineer...). When they moved out and Ex moved it, it made sense to leave the keys and alarm codes as is so that the kids could move between the houses freely. NO I do not worry about him coming over here. He won't step foot on "my property" as he calls it. literally will not. And He has asked that I "stay off his property." Yes, he is many things, and many strange things at that. But he does have an interesting set of morals and ethics such that I do not worry about him sneaking about in my house.
And yes, I do leave things a certain way and can always tell when someone has been here. But I can also tell that the "someone" is a child....they can't figure out how to come and go without leaving a trail. And that's not a bad thing when they could be trying to be sneaky teenagers!