Saturday, December 31, 2011

Ho, ho, ho

Christmas morning without any of the rituals is strange. No children, no church, the accidental event. We straggled down to breakfast, coffee and English muffin, exchange of presents. The presents were surprises - Bruce got the Nook tablet and gift cards - a perfect gift for a guy trapped in a wheel chair. I got a cover for my iPad with the promise of a keyboard. Mike got some warm clothes to carry him through dog walking. We had a German dinner of Rouladen and spatezel shared with friends who have Hungarian and German ancestors so the dinner was familiar. Very low key but it felt like Christmas.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

I need a little Christmas right this very minute

This is turning out to be the strangest Christmas ever. In Jinni's World in October it was going to be a white Christmas snuggled in West Virginia with hot cocoa and cookies, kisses and sticky fingers from the little grands and awesome snowboarding from the older grands. We were going to be a happy extended family for several days. Then slowly the plan began to fall apart. Work schedules conflicted, older grandchildren had plans windows of opportunity shifted but still there was hope families would come and go passing in the night but by New Years all would have been up to the house. The plan went into full crumble when Bruce fell and ended up having surgery on one knee and braces on both legs limiting him to a walker, wheel chair and limited range of motion. One leg is in full lock position making it challenging to get him in and out of most anywhere. The snow is not cooperating with balmy rainy days turning the ground to mush and snow a figment of my imagination.
As Christmas Eve draws close Miss Madi has her first full blown baby cold, Ashby and his Mom are recuperating from their own bout with bugs, Kama is down for the count and Jason is still on the mend from the Pneumonia.
The spirit of Christmas will flit from home to home hopefully leaving kisses on the cheeks of each of my children, their beloved and the amazing gran's. My wish is you wake up smelling cinnamon in the sticky buns in the imaginary oven.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The gods must be laughing

Monday I slipped down the wood stairs in the house and ended up battered and bruised. Bruce came back early from Cary so he could help me get out of bed in the morning. Today he picked up the grocery order from the store before heading out for his first golf day since his shoulder surgery in October. I took a pill to quiet the muscle spasms and prepared to do a little work before he got back when what to my wondering surprise the phone rang and Sandy his golfing buddy says "Bruce fell down on the fairway and I have called 911 he can't get up.".

So I quickly dressed. Mike walked the dog. We headed up to meet the ambulance as they took the backboard and stretcher down. Quick summary. Sandy sent for one of the maintenance carts. They loaded Bruce on the board into the back drove him up to the road, loaded him into the ambulance and headed downtown. After almost 6 hours in ER X-rays and consultations they moved him upstairs to await surgery in the morning. He tore his quadriceps ligament and cannot lift his leg. His other leg is badly bruised and not taking weight.

So here we are the lame and the injured spending the night in n lovely room on the 11th floor overlooking downtown Charlotte

Monday, December 12, 2011

Gone in 2 seconds

It started as a sunny morning. Coffee in hand I did some administrative work and sent out the meeting notes. Quick shower and with sneakers in hand headed down the stairs to walk Zed. Three steps from the bottom my feet slid off the step, my back hit hard and I finished crumpled on the floor wondering if I would ever get up. Long story short several ice packs and Advil later along with a two hour trip to urgent care it summed up to bruises, bangs, pulled muscles and aches that make a cough a side clutching event. It will probably take several weeks before twisting, coughing or lifting won't bring tears to my eyes. I am seldom thankful for the mornings I wake up and am pain free, I think that is short sighted.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Christmas

For as long as I can remember I have had a love hate relationship with Christmas. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the season. It is so much less stressful. Christmas brings out all of the angst, the ghosts of Christmas's past, the unfullfilled wishes, the golden ring of bringing peace and happiness to everyone within my realm. Every year I say that I will not let myself fall in to my own trap of trying to meet all of the spoken, unspoken, hinted, wished expectations for Christmas morning.

I am in West Virginia this sunny weekend to decorate for Christmas. We brought up the decorations and the lights. Bruce wrapped the front porch, Sandy installed a new outlet in the front hall so I could plug in the tree, I chased dust bunnies and eradicated cobwebs under the old chest in preparation for THE TREE. Down it came, in it was plugged, on came about 20% of the lights. Undaunted I pulled out my handy dandy tester and spare bulbs and started tracing the wires. After replacing several fuses, possibly bad bulbs, changing extension cords, standing on one foot and invoking the Christmas fairy wish, I gave up. The tree has had a long life, it has been folded up and stuffed under the steps, in the garage and squished in the upstairs closet. I guess I was expecting a lot of those thin wires travelling from limb to limb.

Bruce and Sandy have headed out to Oakland MD to bring back a new tree. Please oh Christmas Fairy let the tree light up on first try.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Blogs

I love reading blogs! Every morning while waiting for my coffee I check my daughters blogs for news on the babes. Failing to find news, I move over to Facebook to see what is going on in my little world. I realize this is a huge responsibility for the Mom's to feed my insatiable desire for more and more news. Any news is good -- has Madi moved on from Cheerios to Coco Puffs -- that is a joke. I have thought of threatening the daughters that failing to feed my need for baby love from afar I may darken their doorsteps on a more regular basis, but I am not sure that will get the desired result. How did this addiction happen? How did I go from looking forward to phone calls to this desire for regular tiny drips of news? I blame it on my IPhone.

For some reason the Moms of my oldest grandsons have escaped this responsibility. Partially it is because the oldest is on Facebook and from time to time I get to read his thoughts. I don't alway understand this thoughts, but they are alway interesting. I love his new picture! No -- now that I have said that don't take it down! The next two guys provide less input. Perhaps because my addiction started after they reached puberty and beyond they have escaped my desire for daily updates. But a word to the Moms - you should consider starting a blog. I miss my news.

Is there a quid pro quo required? That is a weighty question. Just how much news do I have to share that would interest my off-spring and their partners? My neighbor - albeit 10 years younger and a hunting kind of guy - is aggressively working his bucket list. He was off hunting in Russia last month and is in training for a major hike/hunting trip to Alberta after the first of the year. Now that is news. My news has a much lower wow factor. The bushes are all trimmed, the house is decorated for Halloween. The pumpkin head man has been stuffed and is sitting on the porch. Note to Peter - he is still wearing your cast off pants, flannel shirt and holding his bloody hand. The candy is purchased and hidden from view to protect it from the big people. No trips to the pumpkin patch but I did bring home some mums to put in the cauldrons on the porch. Now it is time to start thinking about Thanksgiving.

Question for discussion -- is it worth the trouble to make the turkey stock for the dressing and gravy or should I take the easy way out and use boxed chicken stock?

Friday, October 7, 2011

Thank you

In September, Mike moved down from Virginia while job hunting. It was a huge change to leave the area he has lived in for the past 25+ years. And to tell the truth, we had some trepidations having a son move in without a clear plan for moving out. But I have to say thank you to Mike for everything he has done to make the transition easy and to help us while waiting for one of the jobs to come through.

In the last few weeks, he has trimmed all the shrubs - a major task at our house. Cleaned the garage, built shelves and put stuff where it belonged. He moved the lawn stuff out of the garage and under the deck so Bruce could get in the garage and eliminate the car shuffling in the driveway. This week he tackled the project of fixing the gate under the sun porch. It is a really wide wooden swinging gate that sagged, cut into the drain pipe (leaving a hole) and could not clear the grass without gouging it. It was one of those projects that nagged at me. So he took it off, cut it down and built a new frame to protect the drain pipe and lock the gate. Then he moved the 12+ 2foot square concrete slate pavers that we saved when we had a new sidewalk installed in the front and put down a floor. I now have relatively dry storage under the sun porch. And to finish off the week he pressure washed the deck eliminating 4 years of grunge.

Now I know this won't keep up, that he is burning off energy and some frustration waiting for one of the jobs to come through, and when he goes back to work these all day labor intensive projects will seem a little less interesting. But WOW - I plan to aggressively priortize my wish list of projects too small to hire someone and too hard for me to do and leave it laying around in the kitchen, maybe stuck under a magnet on the refrigerator door.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Weeds again

Weeding is one of the activities where it is easy to let your mind wander - and still be safe. For some reason it is also a time when I hear my Dad's voice in my head. I don't remember my Dad being a great gardener, and I have no idea where he learned his wisdom on all things green. Somehow I don't think it was at his mother's knee. One of my tasks in this great yard work adventure was pulling weeds. Why I don't know other than it kept me busy and out of my Mom's hair. However, pulling weeds had some very specific requirements. The first time I dead headed a dandelion and put it in my bucket I learned that NO, No, no, you did not pull off the heads and call that weeding. You pull it out WITH the root. The green part with the little roots showing. A later lesson was about BAD DIRT. I seem to have progressed from pulling out the weeds, green leaves and roots, to digging them out. Again, there in my little bucket was a dandelion, green leaves, roots and a small amount of dirt clinging to the roots, since like a good little girl, I shook off the still useful dirt and put it back in the hole. Hmm, NO, No, no, you do not put the BAD DIRT riddled with weed stuff back in the hole, it will just grow another weed. I think this lesson must apply to life somehow. I am sure my many years of Catholic school education reinforced the importance of ridding your life of all manner of bad habits, bad friends and bad influences.

Back to my garden. Some weeds, I pull out roots and dirt and banish them to either the compost heap or the dump. Some I nudge and hack off their heads when I have clean hands, no desire to get down on my knees and am going mainly for appearances. I do admit that on the days when I am determined to get all of their little roots and seeds and whatever else it is slightly satisfying to see a pile of weeds no longer taking up space. It is however exhausting. And just like bad habits the minute I turn around they are back.

I think I will find a tall glass, some ice and make a Tequila Sunrise with that very nice tequila I tracked down. I think it will give me perspective.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Costa Rica













It seems I only remember to update my blog post vacations. I really spend lots of time at home, but the vacations are the most fun. Far more fun than writing about weeding or thoughts on ironing. Bruce won a trip to Costa Rica as a President's Club reward for 2011. It was a wonderful week at a very nice resort on the Pacific coast. The people could not have been nicer, the company planned fun things to do, and the weather cooperated. There was a sunset cruise one night, the water was a little too rough for snorkeling, but the swimmers jumped in to cool off. One of those times I wished I could make myself get into water without lines I can see in the bottom. Mid-trip I managed to come down with the bug Bruce had been battling since Easter, so one night I hung out in the room nursing a cough and headache, but drugs are wonderful so I got to do most things.

Now we are back to the everyday. Work, work, weeding, laundry, grocery shopping. It took a few days to recover from the bug, so I am still not finished hacking the garden back into shape. I now measure progress a foot at a time. Six feet to go on the back side, another 20 feet or so on the back, and then another 12 - 15 feet along the front, before tackling the edge of the woods. I had better start making better progress before Meagan and Ashby get here. I am trying to carve out a few days for a quick trip north to see my Mom and the grandbabies, and of course their parental units. This is an unusual June work wise. There are a couple projects wrapping up and two starting. The corporate world doesn't seem to honor the old rule in community work -- all work stops June 10 and doesn't start again until after Labor Day. I guess I got spoiled being able to count on June, July and August as slow months for writing reports and playing.

This is an open invitation to sibs and kids, come visit! The beds are made sheets are clean, the air conditioning works, the pool is open (and there are nice big lines on the bottom) and it is still delightful to sit on the back porch in the evening. Leave the city- come to the Carolinas.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Whiling away the day down by the sea.



Over the weekend, we went to Hilton Head for a quick get away. The guys played golf - big surprise and Betty and I headed to the beach. It was a great way to recharge my batteries. The beach was quiet, the water was not too cold and the pool back at the hotel was clear and cool. All together a fabulous way to spend three days. The only glitch was sketchy cell phone service. In some ways it was great but in others it made squeezing in some work a little difficult. I ended up setting up a temporary office on the little deck off the room and pulling the coffee table over to the patio door so I had internet from the hotel and cell service if I was outside and not moving from the one hot spot. I am sure it looked a little silly to my neighbors. I forget how reliant I am on cell service.



Saturday, April 23, 2011

The Bucket List

The movie, the Bucket List, got me thinking about what was on my bucket list. It made me realize that I really didn't have a bucket list. Did that mean I was a ditzy as people think I am, no real wants or desires just floating along the rive of life? Were my expectations of life so low that I didn't want to tempt fate by having a list? Slowly over many months and now years I started mulling over what might be on my list if I had a list. It turns out that when I ask friends and spouse the question - what is on your bucket list - they usually have a mental list or at least a few maybe's. This year I admitted to having such a list and told my spouse that one of the things on my list was to go to a Jimmy Buffett concert. The real wish would be to sit on my front porch swing in the house next door to his and listen to the music float across the air. But a concert would be good. So, this year I persuaded my non-Buffettt groupie husband to take me to the Charlotte concert. He wasn't into tail-gating and I had to prod him to move his appointments up and leave by 6:30 but he found tickets and we went. I came home deaf and you had to know the songs to even guess the lyrics. The lesson there is once you are over 60 you do have to get close to front row center seats to actually hear the words. The show was great, I was ready to pack my bags and leave for the Islands. Now I have a visual to go with my IPod and radio music fix of escapism music.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Naps


Naps are highly under appreciated. It is actually only recently that I finally understood that everyone doesn't nap. My Dad was a champion napper. If he sat down, he napped. It is possible he would have napped at dinner if the chairs had been more comfortable. I am a reasonably good napper - and I am grateful for the gift. Some times when work was exhausting or I had a long drive after a long day, I would nap in the car. I would put my seat back and set my travel alarm (pre-Iphone) for 20 minutes and sleep. That is all it takes -- 20 minutes - and I am good to go for the rest of the day.

But the absolute best naps are the ones with a small soft person resting on your chest. It slows your breathing and you have the wonderful scent of baby to lull you to sleep. Napping with a baby is amazing. Time stops, worries float away and it is just gentle breathing and the warm body touching yours. Thank you Madi! Soon you will be too big and too busy to nap with me, but until then I am available any time for a nap.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Good old fashioned righteous outrage

I think that it is time that we adopt a law that requires that all elected local, state and federal elected officials have to not only take and pass Civics in school but that they have to maintain a minimum level of continuing education credits to even run for office. The course work should include the basics of the constitution, how the court system functions and the basic laws of the land. And for state and federal office there is a Civics 201 level set of courses that include the history of how our laws and sense of justice and fair play have evolved over time. Civics 202 will be on economics - not just the big stuff like the budget is x trillion, but who is effected directly and indirectly by every dollar that is spent or not spent. There will be an advanced class for committee members on how to really analyze the effectiveness of programs. Anyone on budget committees will have to take Civic 302 that will delve into their programs and look at why they were started, analyze their effectiveness and then have long thoughtful discussions with topics like -"Has the program outlasted its usefulness, or should it be retooled because the basic need is still valid?". What in the heck is going on - how have we become such ideologues that we cannot pass a budget. Let's do a quick logic check - no we don't have enough money to fund everything at the level that has been requested. Our budget is huge, but just like most of our own family budgets only a small percentage can be trimmed. Most of our money goes to fixed costs - shelter, heat, lights, water, insurance.... What is left is whether we go out to dinner every night or no nights, should we "staycation" or vacation, does little Johnnie get cool shoes or shoes. So why in the wisdom of the elected officials are they going after so many short sighted targets and raising the red herrings AGAIN of moral turpitude (women who by themselves have gotten themselves in the family way). Let's cut education funds - hang in there kids - we are already way behind the international curve on real education and graduation rates - that should solve the problem, let's cut family planning, just be surprised. This isn't a rant in favor of family planning or a wholesale rave on how well our education system is doing - I personally think we are doing a terrible job delivering real, meaningful services to children and families. But short of eliminating children and requiring families who need help to disappear, I think our elected officials have to get off their soap boxes and think about what they are doing. If the Federal Government shuts down who will be hurt - every hourly employee, every person who works for a company that contracts with the government, every person who serves those employees, and the list goes on. I remember the last shut down - this time I suggest that airlines refund any tickets for trips to Washington just as if there was a tsunami or hurricaine - sorry destination shut. Post signs on the Beltway and Interstate - halt here - Washington is shut no need to go to the Cherry Blossom Festival, take Aunt Sue home no tourist visit to the Smithsonian, go have lunch in the shopping mall. All of you who pulled up at the Grand Canyon - sorry closed. This is 2011, we have the most up-to-date technology, we can do business 24 hours a day, in our cars, offices, on the back porch, but we can't figure out how to keep the federal government up and running? Stop acting like spoiled three year olds.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Parenthood - the job that lasts forever

There is no harder job ever than signing up to be a parent. Whether you come to it by surprise, marry into the task, work hard or pay dearly for that amazing day when you go from being M/S no kids to M/S with kid there is no real way to adequately prepare for the change that will occur when the new person arrives in your life - forever. There are no test drives, return if not satisfactory policies or "oops" production overrun sales. There are no do overs when you become a parent.

As a Nana I am now in the enviable position of having hindsight and some days some tiny glimmers of insight into the overwhelming job of becoming a parent. I wandered into the role of motherhood without a real plan for the end game. Each of my children honed my skills as a parent. When I listen to young mothers now I fear I would have failed woefully on the 'good mother' yardstick.

So this is my wisdom: Every child is unique. What works for one will not work for another. In fact with infants and toddlers, what works today will not work tomorrow. Know that the more you thought you knew before the wee one arrives, the less you will know once they are here. Google is great for finding a thousand and one recipes for chicken and directions to obscure restaurants but like Dr. Spock it is not gospel. The reason it takes a village to raise a child is no one person can know everything. There are some decisions that you make or don't make that will effect whether or not your child will go to Harvard but very few of them are made before he or she is 2. Most children who learn to drive are also potty trained and have given up their sookies.

What is important: Sleep - for the parents. The old adage that it will look better in the morning was coined because a good nights sleep gives you hope of survival for another day. Pick your battles. You can not make your child sleep, eat, or potty on command (at least I don't think you can). It takes several years before they can begin plotting against you! Babies and children have internal rhythms. As parents we can help shape them but it is an uphill battle to ignore them. Be kind to yourself. The fact that you are worried and thinking about what is good for your child means you are already a good parent. Will you always get it right - NO. Will you usually get it right - YES.

Looking back I wish I had played more and worked less. If I could do it over I would have made more time for bedtime rituals like bubble baths and stories, I would have worried less about a clean house and more about listening. To all of the parents of my grand's - you are doing a great job, thank you for sharing their lives with me.

Monday, March 21, 2011

It was a LOUD bird

Have you ever had a word or idea that you rolled around on your tongue like a chocolate - tasting the sound, thinking about the flavor? A true pronouncement. Last night my 20 month old grandson (with some coaching from his parental unit) was telling me about his day. He went to the Baltimore Aquarium and saw ----- fish - red fish, orange fish, blue fish and a LOUD BIRD. Loud is a word that requires scrunching up your face and rolling your tongue in your mouth and saying LOUD bird. It is a lucious word. He says it with all of the passion and energy of someone making a pronouncement on the future of the world and once he is done he sits back and laughs as if there is no better word in the world for what there is to see and experience.

Children - mine and others - coin phrases that rattle around in my head as the small kernels of truth that come back to ground ideas. Years ago my youngest sister became famous as the pronouncer of truths. We stayed at a resort in Ocean City that was next door to a motor court of little mention named Miami Courts. Once day when she was little and I not yet a teenager were walking back from a foray to the corner store, I said something about cutting through the parking lot and she looked up and said with all of the seriousness of a toddler -- are we going to Your Ami? As the years have gone on I have always remembered her confusion with the syntax of the english language and the fraility of puns. She is also the authoress of my other favorite quote from her years of horseback riding. She came home one day in a thorough funk and proclaimed at dinner that Dusty would not behave for a little jerk. Of course she meant that Dusty the horse was not responding to the reins - but forever her pronouncement has stayed in my thoughts as not responding to a little jerk. I can not tell you how many times that phrase has come back to me to explain what was going on in life. Is the problem the Little Jerk or the little jerk? The third one -- bear with me - was an Easter joke. In a spurt of craftieness I though that I would let my youngest child help me create Easter Eggs. I made all of the preperations - eggs, dye, stickers - and called him to help. His pronouncement to his siblings was they should all come help -- we were going to Kill Eggs. Ahhh english as a language.
For those of you who are dyslexic or who don't hear the fine nuance of words and phrases this will be funny. For everyone else you will go "Huh". This was an inside joke for all of us on the ADHD/Dyslexic list serve.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Romper Room and Meeting Place

This will only appeal to those of us who watched morning television in the 1950's and maybe the 60's. There was a show (originating from Baltimore - small cheer) where every day Miss Nancy started by getting everyone to sit down in front of their televisions while she got out her magic looking glass and said hello to us. She would call out our names as she looked through her magic glass. Then we would say the pledge of allegiance and sing songs. Sometimes Mr. Do Bee would come to teach us how to be polite. "Do be a Do Bee". I always wished she would call my name but alas Jinni was not a popular name at the time.

Every time a meeting place conference call starts I remember Miss Nancy and wish sometimes Mr. Do Bee would show up and remind us about being on time and muting our phones when we are in a bar. We all log in and our names pop up on the screen, our leader calls out our names - I see Brad, is Tom on yet? And then we go through our agenda and make our reports and say goodbye. It is a lot like Romper Room.

Thank you Miss Nancy and Mr. Do Bee - I have remembered your lessons and it makes some of these calls a little more fun!

Monday, February 21, 2011

The Jeopardy Game

My grandson Ashby is a serious student. He takes great pride in what he learns and practices all of the time. He has been learning sign language for at least the past six months. Every week Ashby joins a group of toddlers and Mommies as they learn new words and practice old words. He has moved from single words like cracker to concepts - where is Nana's dog Zed? or Where is the man's hair for Granddad.

His mom and dad reinforce his lessons by practicing the words and rewarding him with a "Good Ashby" affirmation. This week he started training Nana. The first time I caught on to my tutorial he and I were sitting at the window watching the world go by. He would point and look at me and I would say what we were looking at and he would give me the 'yeah Nana' nod. Then we moved on to the wall, the floor, feet, eyes, hair, - well you get the picture. When I got it wrong he would give me a second chance.

He likes to run through all of his key words and phrases first thing in the morning, when he gets up from his nap and most importantly when it is getting close to dinner and bed and he is winding down. I have gotten smarter under his unflinching tutelage, he never cheats, so now I am quickly going through the A list of bird, jogger, dog, car, train, wall, window, eye, hair, feet and the list goes on.

Today I got to go to music class with him. A dozen or so little people with their attendant parental units, one nanny and one Nana were in attendance. The instructor was great, the wee ones were wee ones. Some of the little girls were focused on the program, Ashby was focused on an escape plan. He circled the group, checking for any possible enemies or other untoward behavior. He checked out all of the visible and reachable sippy cups. But he kept a close eye on the proceedings. You could almost hear him saying, "Listen you guys, this is a classroom and you are all jumping around like jumping beans. Sit down, pay attention and then go home and practice." And practice we did when we got home. He got out the napkins and we did the scarf dance. We stomped, clapped and kept time on our knees. I didn't know the best song that has lots of hand clapping, thigh slapping and hand waving so I had to revert to the only one I know "We're going on a bear hunt" We have hunted a lot of bear today. Every time he thinks my mind is wandering he flops down legs out and off we go up the hill, look for the bear and run back down.

Thank you Ashby, I had a great time! I had forgotten how much fun it is to dance with scarves and I promise to practice my words every morning.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Fortune telling

Babies are such wonderful little mysteries. I am always studying their eyes and smiles wondering if there are clues to the future hiding in there.

I found a picture of Pete and his Dad on the day he arrived. He is giving him the one-eyed baby stare. I had forgotten how much hair he had when he was born. (No comments on the current status of the Dad's hair)

This is a picture of Pete with his new daughter. She is not sure yet if she is going to melt your heart with one of her little smiles or check you out with her thoughtful stare. I am pretty sure she is using her melt your heart looks on her Dad.



Saturday, February 5, 2011

New parent secrets

As a Nana I can now safely look back on parenting and wonder why no one ever really tells you the truth about babies and toddlers. Is it like childbirth - if we remembered every little detail over and over we might all leave home and join a convent or at least remain celebate for the rest of our lives. Like childbirth the stresses of new babies and toddlers are passing. Time may seem to stand still still but in fact it is moving along at the same rate that it did before the arrival of the new person.
A combination of the natural order of life and intuitiveness seems to send messages to little ones that - wait - the parent units are near breaking - sleep an extra half hour and give them hope that someday in their distant future they will be able to string together 6 or 7 straight hours lying in their bed with their eyes closed. Toddlers seem to know that if Mommy doesn't get her hair washed and her legs shaved life is going to go downhill. And it seems that is the afternoon they stay snuggled in an extra 30 minutes of what seems like miracle time.
The complex part of the equation is that sometime parental units and wee ones aren't on the same email server and don't get the message in time. The night of the extra half hour comes when Mom has given up hope and is watching late night tv waiting for the 'chow time' call or is scurrying around finishing up a project just waiting for the 'here I am come get me' call. Truly syncing in must be a Zen moment, fleeting and wonderful.
Maybe I should have put my forehead against their foreheads and thought really hard -- "I just need 20 more minutes this afternoon and I promise not to fritter it away and will use my time wisely."

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Fresh air

Seasonal depression is a really annoying problem. It sneaks up on you over the long gray days of winter. Slowly you begin to sleep later, no longer being awakened by the sun peaking through the edges of the blinds or the morning sounds of the neighborhood. Everthing is muffled slightly. Mornings when the sun is bright and sky is blue trick you into thinking spring is near but a quick walk out on the back deck reminds you that it is still too cold and wet to work garden, and a coat, hat a gloves will be needed for a walk.
I know this cycle, I have lived with the cycle all my life so I can't quite figure out why I am always surprised. When we lived in Canada it started in late November and lasted until the end of March, reaching a crescendo in February before ever so slowly loosening its grip as the days began to get longer and the snow and ice slowly melted from the north side of the yard.
When we moved to North Carolina I was ever so hopeful. For the first several years we had months of glorious weather. I could bundle up in a heavy sweater and sit in the sun on the deck in December. Winter cold was kept where it belonged in West Virginia - a place to visit, enjoy the cold and then pack up and come home to the land of sunny mornings.
This year winter came early in the south. It swooped in before I was ready. The garden was not cleared of debris, the bushes were not cut back. There it was - cold, wet, miserable weather that keeps you in the house. Now that I have cleaned off my rearview mirror and gotten a pretty good look at where I have been, I am making an effort to beat the blues. I have gone back to the gym - yes exercise is good for the soul - and have given myself a new goal of cleaning out the garden 6 feet at at time. All of you ADHD friends know that my biggest challenge is thinking small - just a few feet at a time, especially when the view from the windows is the whole enchilada as I read my Southern Living magazine while visions of sugar plums and maybe a fountain dance in my head. So back to the real world. I cleared out the dead daisies and am slowly cutting back the edging plants. I am limiting myself to no more than one hour a day. I am almost to the unruly rose bushes.
I am obsessed with my garden or lack thereof. For some unknown reason I feel that the garden and my mind are linked - a messy garden and a messy mind. You can drive up and look at the front yard and know how I am doing, you never have to come in. Are the roses wild, are the day lilies a mess, are the shrubs unruly. My mind is probably in the same shape. Wish me luck - I am tackling the roses this weekend. I will probably end up scratched and bleeding - landscape roses look wonderful in the spring and summer but if left untrimmed in the fall they become brier patches. But if I can hack them back into submission I have great hope for my mind.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

The penalty of conceit


For those who know me, I have tried to stay up with technology, prided myself in being an early adopter and not shying away from learning something new. I think it is the up side of being ADHD, I am always looking for a challenge, another ball of string to unsnarl or a better mousetrap. So, when asked to put together a form for a client I thought - heck yes, I have done many forms and they always look nice, are functional and .... you get the picture. But I have not done a form on a highly secure network since Microsoft brought in some new tools. So down the rabbit hole I went. It was probably not wise to start the project while I was away visiting my oh so handsome and consuming grandson and waiting the arrival of a granddaughter, my already wayward mind was not easy to corral. But I applied myself diligently, dragged along a stack of books, brought my highlighter and sticky notes -- and went further and further down into the rabbit warren.
There were so many options, so many choices - a truly bad, bad thing for my mind. It is very hard for me to close a door, rule out an option unless I have run it to the ground. The long and short is my brilliant son-in-law did some research, made a suggestion, got me back on the right path and the results fit the problem. Could it be tweaked so it could fly, make coffee and bring in the paper, maybe. But it was a small problem, needing a nice, clear solution. And I learned a lot of new stuff - hope I get to put it to work!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Waiting for Madi

Major events in my children's lives always trigger memories of my life with them. My last child is at the hospital with his wife as they go through the final stages of bringing Madi into the world. I had hoped that it would be a quick, easy, mad rush to the hospital for them, but it is not to be. They have been there for more than 12 hours already and the induced labor has been slow and laborious. Not what you would wish for anyone.

I have truly enjoyed watching them grow from a wonderful couple to parents to be. But it has also brought back wonderful memories of my time hatching him. He arrived later in our lives, and I was given the gift of staying home for most of my pregnancy and keeping to the task of feathering our nest. My memories are of lazy afternoons falling asleep in front of the fire, baking way too many cookies and brownies, and sewing little baby clothes that were warm and sensible. His arrival time was long, I had been in the hospital for several days in advance, and when they decided he should move along and arrive we were well into the 24th hour when they decided that we would have to move to a hospital in a bigger town. His poor dad had dozed on a spare hospital bed, held my hand and urged me on as they encouraged walking down the hall multiple times. Finally he headed out to meet the ambulance in the next town. We were besotted with baby. My poor pre-teen and teen children probably wanted to leave us at the hospital until we got over it all.

My son is very much like his dad, protective of those he loves. My heart aches for what he is feeling watching the woman he loves in pain and not being able to fix it. I would guess that at some points the dads wonder if this is all worth it. It is the part of pregnacy they can't understand. There is really nothing you can do for a woman who has been in labor too long and is just tired. Rubbing her feet, holding her hand, ice chips, they all become an annoyance as she focuses totally on just getting this baby into the world. The good news is the memory of what came before dims and the memory of seeing her for the first time, of touching her little hands and feet, watching her wake up to the world one eye at a time, stretching those bandy legs will be all that he remembers.

My selfish hope is I get to watch him as he gets to know her for the first time. My daughter and her husband let me share that moment. He will say he didn't even know I was in the room -- all he saw was his son. I knew that and it was wonderful. My greatest belief is that the bond you build with these little tiny new people is the bond that will sustain you through temper tantrums, bad grades, dented cars, the "I hate you" that comes as they grow and begin to separate and become their own persons. It is the bond that wakes you up in the middle of the night when you know positively something has happened to them and makes you want to shake or hug them when they come back alive. What else can explain how they live beyond the Terrible Two's without being left in the closet.

So today I hope to begin the Nana bond with the newest little person in my life. I am proud of all of my grandchildren, I love to watch them and see what great people they have become. I can't wait to see what this new little girl will bring to our lives. But one thing for sure is I know without any doubt that today my son will fall in love in a way he never knew existed, that as much as he loves his wife, today he will truly know what people mean when they say that they would lay down their life for their daughter.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Snow globes

This morning it was like waking up in a snow globe that had been left on the kitchen counter overnight. Looking out of the kitchen window everything glistened, like a fairy had glued crystals to all of the branches and twigs and sprinkled them on top of the snow like a dusting of sugar. It was beautiful. There was no wind, not even a small stir. Where I had shoveled a path on the driveway to the pine trees and down to the street, there were no rivulets of melted ice creating fingers reaching into the path. The edges that I cut with the snow shovel were still nice and straight and the path was clear. The small icebergs that were created when I tossed snow and ice onto the side still stood proudly like sails in the snow.

It has been a strange snow. A day of light fluffy snow that fell with total quiet followed by hours of light sleet and freezing rain. It created this beautiful smooth glistening surface. Beautiful but painful to walk through. The crust isn't strong enough to hold up a person or small puppy but when you break through it is like breaking through a window pane.

All day yesterday the sledders and snowboarders on hill in behind the house sounded like road graders crunching through gravel. No stray cars could sneak up on you, they sounded like snowplows trying to smooth a washboard. This winter wonderland is not quiet.

Today, the third day of frozen life, the sun is out and everything is starting to melt from the bottom up. The house is warming the roof and the water is running down the drain pipes. My greatest fear now is that whole slabs of ice will come crashing down crushing gutters and shrubs.

The back deck made of Trek cleared easily with the snow being happy to slide off the edge and the yummy ice topping sliding down on the frozen yard like marbles sent skittering. The front sidewalk is more reluctant to give up its ice coating. So I swept off the loose icebergs and snow and will let the sun have its way with the errant ice.

I like my snow, snow like. Softly falling onto the ground silencing everything in the neighborhood except the gleeful sounds of children sliding quietly down the hill. This is a noisy winter coating, crunching and painful to walk through.

I have lived in the North and the South and despite the protests of my New Jersey born and bred mother, I have always felt more like a southerner than a northerner. I know how to bundle up and mush on through priding myself in the conquered snowdrifts and the howling wind bested, but in truth I have always hated being cold. Dad's axiom to was always stand up straight, take a deep breath of refreshing (freezing air) and you will feel much better and you won't be cold. Maybe frozen lungs keep the rest of you from feeling the cold.

This storm I did what everyone else did. I turned on the TV to the local all news channel with 'weather on the 1's' at a minimum and stayed attentive to the 24 hour weather reports that were only occasionally set aside for national news. I shoveled little knowing that in a few days the sun would come out and do the hard work for me. I put on tights and socks and uggs bundled in turtlenecks, sweater and snow jacket, added gloves, hat, hood and scarf for my walks with the pooch. I tutted at the people who drove too fast on our unplowed road - they must be from the north - show-offs.

For the past two days there has been no mail, schools are still closed, the trash guys still haven't come, but the mall opened on time after closing yesterday at 5PM. Maybe the trucks will make it to the grocery store and there will be fresh food. For a girl who lived in Nova Scotia in a little town with a harbour that hosted iceberglets and seals in the winter you would think I would have toughened up. Like many things in life that you muster through because you have no choice, your mind quickly returns you to your normal. My normal is here.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Snow in the South

I am sure by now you are totally bored with my fascination for snow in Charlotte. But it is such an EVENT. For days the weather forecasters have been telling us that this storm is marching towards us bringing snow, sleet, ice, pestilence. The stores were empty by mid-afternoon yesterday. Last night the newscasters were in a tizzy and the break-in updates were telling us that the snow would start by 4AM. Sure enough I woke up to snow. Well, I woke up to my husband texting me from Las Vegas at 7:28AM my time to be careful walking the dog because it was slippery. It snowed, Zed was very unhappy because the snow was up to his little tummy. We did our best, but I think he will have to be really interested in going out before he tries again. The snow is wet enough that he comes in as one furry snowball.

All morning the local news has given us minute by minute updates, with call in's from people with snow pictures of their backyards and 'live' reports of who is driving around in the neighborhoods. They even pre-empted Rachel Ray!

I have done my part, I pushed the snow off the back deck and moved the snow of the driveway enough to give Zed a path to under the evergreen trees and swept off the grass. Now it is up to him. Me, I am going to heat up the hot chocolate and snuggle up with a book. No wait -- I am going to heat up the hot chocolate and work.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Small steps to success

I am off to a good start on keeping my resolutions. It has only been 7 days, but I have made some of the important first steps.
A resume -- hard to believe but after many, many angsting tries I have finally completed a resume that is in an acceptable short format. I posted it on Dice and have applied for two jobs. Don't get too excited -- if experience is any teacher I will now chew my nails if no one calls. But it is a start. Things are beginning to perk up with some existing or newly emerging projects so with a little luck I get busier one way or the other.
My grandson is bringing a friend to go snowboarding next weekend. I will be the chauffeur and chief cook and bottle washer. I am really looking forward to having him at the house - think snow! The newest grand baby has not made her big entrance yet but I have told everyone that all meetings are off the day she arrives.
The only eating out once a week resolution is in jeopardy! I stuck to eating in before going up to play Bunco, so I am hoping a few glasses of wine with the gals doesn't count as eating out! I may need to revisit that resolution.
Oh and finally - three days at the gym so far, need to work on that a little more. I am hoping walking two miles a day with the pooch will compensate when I am out of town.
Looking back I realize the exercise and eating out resolutions relied on my actually being here. January is a big travel month with skiing, babies, skiing, grandsons. Maybe the resolution needs to be modified that I go to the gym every day I am home (unless I have a morning client meeting) and eating out is forgiven when I am away. Wish I loved carrot sticks more!

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Resolutions

Every year I have a list of 'good for you' resolutions. Some of them last until January 15 some longer. This year I used my new start in January as an excuse for one more cookie, one more piece of pie, one more - well you get the idea. Today getting into my North Carolina slacks to go home I took stock of the price I paid for two weeks of my "We'll think of that tomorrow" attitude. So I am taking a big chance and saying my resolutions out loud, putting them in writing so all can check up on me as the weeks go by.
  1. I am taking the no take away food for one month challenge. I can still go out to a restaurant but not more than once a week. Cook at home or eat cereal - but put away those yummy, easy take away menus until February 1.
  2. Of course the gym -- but I will start out small. January - minimum of 4 times a week for 45 minutes at the gym. I am paying the price for abandoning my routine at Thanksgiving. My knees ache, I get out of breath going up hill. And the biggie - I am not, not, not buying clothes in a bigger size.
  3. Now on to the slightly stranger but real resolutions. I will write a resume, post it on line and look for a day job. After 25+years of consulting no one ever asked for a resume, getting a contract was based on previous projects. Now I need a day job and that requires a personal resume. Anyone out there who has a clue as to how to translate 25 years of herding cats (committee members) and relyiing on success by the will of a group I have no control over -- send it along. As my Dad told me once about my chosen career - I really didn't do anything, I just talked.
  4. I will work harder at being a good Nana. I am not sure what that means or how to start, but this year Ashby has truly wormed his way into my hard little heart, and Jon and Jason just cracked it a little further. I want to be connected to these guys and to Madi when she arrives. I want to know what is going on in their lives regularly. Maybe I need to follow an Italian Nana around since the ones I observe seem to balance a little nagging interference with lots of love. My 'never interfere and wait to be invited' policy isn't working.
  5. And finally - since the list seems pretty daunting to me - I resolve to have fun. At least once a week - do something that isn't on the to-do list or has a higher purpose. Once a month Bunco knocks out one week a month, leaving me three other weeks to learn to do something that is just for fun. Maybe I should either learn to play golf or sell my clubs this year!

So feel free to check up on me, or remind me when I wander away from my resolutions. I would really like to look back in April and say that I am still making progress.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

The house is empty

My two grandsons and their parents just left. The house is neat and clean, the boot room nearly empty. It is very sad. They were wonderful guests and took very good care of their grandparents. I miss them. The boys have really become great snowboarders, especially considering how seldom they get to come up. This is a picture of Jon from several years ago standing with his uncle. This year his uncle lent Jon his snowboard and boots!

Jason started skiing when he was 4 - under duress since there were no snowboard lessons until he was 5. He always knew he could do it. No fears just impatience sometimes to get moving. By the time he was 7, it was up the lift as fast as possible -- "alone thank you". This year he and his brother were up on the blue slopes.

Vanity the ultimate gotcha.

Vanity 1. Heels, shoes. They were my addiction. I loved being able to wear heels, sandals, cute shoes. Even if they were slightly uncomf...