Sleepless in Houston

Our highly anticipated evening out and hotel stay has come and gone. It had all the elements of time well spent: friends, laughs, drinks, dancing, loud music and lewd gestures. Coupled with the an evening together sans bedtime routines or waking to a pre-schooler demanding juice, this evening had high expectations. And, for the most part, lived up to its' demands. Shortly after going to bed, although comfortable, we slept lightly. Usually I can crash and a tornado ripping off the roof won't wake me...well, I don't really know about that because that's never happened, but what I'm saying is I'm a deep sleeper. Yet, I woke up several times.

Why? We were so tired, or so we thought. We were content and nothing was wrong, but something wasn't right. I suppose it was the natural feeling of leaving our little nest unprotected and worried about our babies. The dark, quiet room was missing the sweet sounds of deep breaths on the monitor. And, as our grandiose night was coming to an end, we anticipated the morning even more. As the daylight sneakily peeked in the room through a miniscule crack, it was all I needed to put the spring in my step. I awoke with a hurriedness, because surely it was 10:30 a.m. or shockingly it could even be 11:00 a.m.!! OMG, we slept in too late. I turn over. The clock reads 7:04 a.m. The same time. Of course.

But, we laid in bed and watched the news and I cried with Matt Lauer as he bid farewell to Tim Russert. We laid there until who knows when. Glorious. On our way to check out, I said to Keith, so this is what it would feel like without kids. Just us. We could do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. Eat here, eat there, go there, or go here. Do this or do that. And, we both quickly decided- no thanks. And, I know if we didn't have kids, we wouldn't know any different, so there wouldn't be that emptiness. But, when you know, you can never go back and be content. And, that's not totally new information. We quickly bought some breakfast tacos and headed home to feed our little birds.

Our Father's Day started with lunch at Jason's Deli

And, then touring more model homes. Highly addictive. I bet the food in this kitchen even tastes better.

And, I bet little boys (who'll remain nameless) have better tempers in houses like that.

After dinner at Luby's, we then we came home and baked cookies with Nay-Nay.

Happy Fodder's Day

I took the boys to Picture People, a GREAT place, a week ago for their Father's Day gift. We gave Keith his framed 11x13 today and he loved it!! He couldn't believe we had this done without him knowing. Luckily, all the times Kale ran around the house saying "I wanna gib Daddy his picture" I just played it off like he was talkin' crazy again, who knows what he's talkin' about...sshhh.

I went into Picture People with the notion that I would not be buying a whole lot. I think we've put enough money towards professional photography in the past year--ahem. Well, the boys really helped out with that. Trying to get a 13 month old to sit on the floor instead of running through the curtains and coming out on the other side is like effing impossible.

The highschool girl only got a dozen or so shots and only one of them was good enough to buy. If you haven't been to Picture People, it's a fairly painless process. Afterwards, you wait for the pictures to develop and they come out with a few pre-framed, to show you what is available and you know...up sell you. But, essentially you sit in front of a HUGE flat screen and view the pictures. Everyone is waiting around and can see everyone else's pictures.

I sit down in front of the screen. The photographer and I are out of breath and laughing because it was a maniacal. A little about the photo shoot: Kale started out with a nice smile and then all of sudden started smiling like Renee Zellwegger. I don't know what he was doing. The photographer and I were cracking up and that just made him do it more. Mack wouldn't sit for the pictures. Near the end, we asked Kale to hug Mack. Well, it turned into holding Mack in a headlock to get him to stay.

The pictures slideshow starts. I begin a small cackle. By the middle, I'm hunched over like a hyena. And, by the end, the clerk comes over to see what the fuss is about. I can't even sit up straight or talk sensibly. I am laughing and crying uncontrollably, my stomach hurts. She says "Are you okay?" I barely manage to say I'm fine...it's... just... these... pictures... are...aaagh...hilarious...probably the best ones we've ever had done...oooohhh myyyy Gaaawd...I'll take #4. Let's just say, that's probably not the preferred customer reaction. She quickly got my order and I skidaddled with tears still seeping from my eyes.

I've been wanting to share this story so bad, but haven't been able to, until today. Ahhhh. Relief.

Take a look for yourself.

"Stay Classy San Diego"

After much probing over the weekend (man, I'm sore!), j/k, it was revealed that Keith's idea of a birthday celebration would include being wined and dined. I immediately thought of a bumper sticker we saw years and years ago...which made me think of a another bumper sticker on the same car:

Let's just say that the owners of that car were classy. So, the karaoke idea was scrapped. It's no longer a surprise, either. We are now having a nice dinner and then drinks at a bar. A bar at a hotel. A hotel that we have a room booked at. Need I say more? We will be closing that bar down. His Mom got the room reserved and my Mom is staying the night with the kids. It's the best idea. Ever.

I presented Keith with his gift of collected entries yesterday morning. Did I cry? You betcha. Maybe it was because he's such a wonderful person and that every wonderful person should know how much they mean to others. Maybe it was because he's made me so proud and so happy all these years that I can't imagine him not knowing how priceless he is. Or, maybe it was because I went to the mall last week to pick out a cologne, but couldn't smell a turd in a diaper, therefore I had to leave empty-handed. I can't pick out something I can't smell and I wasn't about to buy one that the sweet Grandma type sales lady considered to be "popular with the young kids", just to bring it back the next week.

We spent his birthday quietly. Kale and I baked him a cake, we ordered from his favorite pizza pie place and looked at custom homes on the way home. We can dream, can't we? It's how Keith stays hungry.

***

Denise Richards has a show. Really? Yes. And it's 100% garbage. I don't watch it, but I've seen a tidbit here and there. Must go to Hollywood where they hand out reality shows like teriyaki chicken samples in the mall food court. I wouldn't do one, but if I did, yesterday's show would've been called "It's Shitty". Day one of feeling remotely back to normal, I bust out the slip-n-slide and baby pool in backyard. Gratuitously lather kids and myself with SPF 2,350 sunblock. Change into bathing suits and swim diaper for Mack. Bring Ipod and speakers, cell phone, home phone, towels, blanket, bath toys and extra sunblock out back. Kids are in pool playing. Slip-n-slide is up and running and looks inviting. The new Weezer is blaring and I've just laid down to take in some sun and relax. Child #2 stands and lets out loud stamp of disapproval and motions to escape from pool. After several attempts of coaxing from the sidelines, I grumpily get up to see what's the matter. As I approach the pool I see cloudy water with chunks of poo and corn floating about. OH MY GOD! ABORT! ABORT! I rip Kale from infested water and immediately flip pool. Rinse out pool, rinse off toys (let them bake in 1000 degree sun), rip off crapped diaper and hose off child. Start over.

'Snot' to be taken lightly

I have been so lazy lately with posting. Bah. I've had a cold and the amount of snot that has been produced on this block has to be monumental. Seriously. How much snot can one person have? I'm slowly starting to feel some relief and drainage. Please give me back my life. These boogers have consumed two of my weekends...interpretation...Ms. No Fun to be Around. :-)

We were invited to a huge graduation party, but since my sinuses started draining my face felt like I'd been hit with an airbag, like 2o times. My face hurt. My jaw hurt. My teeth hurt. Lastly, my head hurt. That's how much snot was in my sinuses. I don't get sick very often, but when I do, my body likes to do it right. By slamming my head up against a brick wall until I collapse. Thank you. Thank you. That'll be enough.

We relaxed this weekend after the tasking week we'd had by buying a Slip-n-slide and taking Kale to see Kung Fu Panda (great movie). This was Kale's first movie in a theatre. A little nervy situation b/c attention spans and activity level is pretty low. But, all in all, he stayed in his seat all the while tossing and turning, eating, drinking and yes, farting. I think that made his experience complete.

***

Onto more exciting things, Obama finally won the democratic nomination. I didn't think Hillary was ever going to concede. Bless her heart. I can't wait to see how many people cannot vote for a black man. And the fact that he's even labeled as a 'black' man frustrates me as well. As a parent of mixed race children, I don't want either of my sons to be identified by one race more than the other. Obama is half black and half white. He has as much white blood as he does black blood running through his body. Yet, he's a 'black' man. I realize we need labels in order to classify things. So, he has to be called a 'black' man. He can't be labeled 'other', unless on paper. Still, the fact that he looks 'black' rubs a lot of people the wrong way. I've actually met people who think that if he gets voted into office that it'll be a free ride for all the black people and that he'll pass a law in order to pay all blacks reparations. HA HA HA. Whoever gets into that office is guided and lured from day one, but no one makes all the decisions. Uh... ever heard of checks and balances? The Constitution? All rational logic goes out the window, though, because hey, he's 'black'.

Happy Monday!

One day at a time

Phew! Today was a doozie. I'm still recovering from a minor head cold from this weekend and wasn't in the mood for what my boys were bringing. And it got brought. Mack is teething and I wish that effing tooth would just show up already and stop making my life difficult. Kale, well, he's just a sweetheart, thank you God! And, now that he's 3 (I've said it before...) he's a lot more verbal. So, I do A LOT more explaining and repeating myself. Because...HELLO MOM! Do you not know that everything is frickin' hilarious and up for debate?!?! And I laugh. But, that doesn't help for when I've reached my limit. I get louder. and louder. AND LOUDER---until it gets to him. I don't want to be a yeller.

Linda Lee's post today hit home. Especially this part:

"this job is mission-critical, this is not a job where you fuck around, this is the job of caring for the people I love more than anything on this earth and if I am a screwup at this then there is no hope for me at all. On the one hand, I think that this job can be hard as hell, and if I sometimes feel resentful and selfish and impatient, maybe that just means I’m human. On the other, I think it’s shameful to admit that, because this is what I signed up for —

and my god, this life is so good."

And it is. So. fucking. good. With that, I breathe a little deeper and relish in the fact that I get to do it all over again tomorrow. It's a new day. Another chance. With my own new expectations. I may not be a complete success, but I'll do better. And the next day a little better than the day before. That's all I can hope for. But, I wouldn't trade this time for any other.

As Keith was carting Mack off to bed, he kept calling out to me "Ma-ma" "Ma-ma". My heart swelled. I heard my little boy say my name in his own voice for the first time. It had meaning behind it. It wasn't jibberish. It's the first of many times he'll call for me, but the first time is always special. I'll remember it forever.

Powering up

We had an adventurous Memorial Day weekend. We gave the big finger to the gas lords and told'em to suck it. Our fun travels took us to Austin, Comfort, Boerne and Victoria, TX and all the places in between, meeting up with old friends and some new friends. Kale and Mack hung out with 2 sets of beautiful girl twins. One pair invited them for a swim and a BBQ and the other pair took Kale for a ride in their hot pink Barbie Power Wheel around the neighborhood while a tejano station blared from within it. Definitely a sight to see. Us grown-ups partook in some wine drinking, ball hitting, fishing and all sorts of tomfoolery. I've posted new pictures...take a gander.

***

**I cannot get this to post with correct spacing. Sorry for the run-on paragraphs.

We visited a couple in Boerne, TX. The husband is a friend of Keith's through work. A lovely couple with twin, four year old, daughters. We brought them a plant (they just moved into their new house) and a nice card for her because she is recovering from a major surgery that removed a large hemangioma from her liver two weeks ago. I believe they're our age or maybe a couple of years older. The kids and our husbands were outside on the patio playing and we sat inside to drink the rest of our coffee and talk.

We spoke of our husbands line of work and kid stuff. Side note: I've been doing a lot of worry-warting about life, my mortality and such. The chances of dying by being diagnosed with a disease and what that would mean to me has been weighing heavily on me lately. I'm not sure why. I suppose it has a lot to do with my Grandfather's death. And, also being a mother and the responsibilities I have as a result of that. Not only the responsibilities, but the wants. The want to see my children grow and flourish. Who doesn't want that? And, why do I feel like that it is inevitable that all this will be taken from me, too soon? It's so fragile and I feel like it's slowly slipping out of my grip. Not that I ever held it. Not that any of us do. I don't usually dwell on these uncertainties. But, lately, it's been different. I feel vulnerable and lost.

As we sat and talked about her surgery, she told me that when the large mass had been identified on her liver by an MRI initially, she was told that it was most likely lymphoma. For 48 hours she and her husband thought she had cancer. After several specialists, they came to a surprising conclusion that it was not cancer and was instead, a rare hemangioma. A miracle. After several months of delaying the surgery, she finally had it removed a couple of weeks ago and the Dr. barely had to remove 3% of her liver.

I looked at her with such admiration because what I fear the most she faced and seemed unfaltered. How'd you do it?, I asked. I have faith, she said. Simple. What a wonderful way to live...to have faith and not crumble. At a time when I could've really used my Grandfather's wisdom and faith based expertise, I had no one to turn to. No one to tell me show me why I believed and why I shouldn't give that up. Sure, we have family and friends that explain the obvious to you, but you and I know that doesn't always hold it together for you. A favorite blogger recently posted about the same thing...

Suddenly I'm facing some very confusing feelings. I'm not going to get too much into that here, only to say that where once I had the Mormon religion to inform me, I'm here now without that safety net trying to piece some things together. Which I guess is a way of saying that I'm still trying to figure out what I believe. And I know that admitting that is going to open me up to all sorts of judgment, but I don't think this makes me much different from a lot of people out there who are also trying to figure it all out. I don't think I'm alone in saying, yeah, I don't know, and I'm mostly okay with that. Sometimes, like right now, I'm not okay with that

She owns up to it and doesn't cop out. Because hell, we don't know. And when you do find out--you're dead. It was a visit that my soul needed. A message was sent and I got it...loud and clear. I felt spiritually strong and invincible again. Faith restored.

Where are my no-crazy pills? Gawd. I need 'em.

The days leading up to my monthly "visitor" are...uh...let's see...how do I say...HELLISH? Oh yeah they are. And every month when I get to this point, I don't realize what it is I'm actually dealing with until the crazy hormones are about to leave the building. Why? Why can't I just recognize it immediately and come to terms with it. Nope. It'd be too easy.

I went to Target today and probably complained about 13 things to Keith while I was driving there. Luckily, Keith humors me and lightens my mood. But, that's not so easy to do in person. I told him I was definitely buying a bottle of wine to crack open after the kids went to bed tonight. He told me to not open it in the store because he could picture me asking a Target Team Member for a plastic cup. I'd like to see them try and stop me.