Field Day

It is her first field day. It is her last in kindergarten. She couldn't sleep last night as her excitement overtook her sleepy dreams. She came down stairs twice. Once to go over the five things that we must do prior to going to school. Second to get a drink of water and to review the five things we must do prior to going to school. Her choice for lunch at field day is hot dogs. Grilled. Plain. We must fill her belly so she won't be hungry. "I need a big breakfast today," she says with a grin and a nod of her head, "there won't be any snack today".

Sadly, the weather isn't better. But she will be wearing a white shirt, with her hair up, name on her water bottle and sun screen applied. Despite the dismal weather I have a feeling she will have an absolutely wonderful first field day.

Have fun Oldest!

Anxiety attack

Every week we are short on cash. E V E R Y week. And I can't stand it any longer. It is a difficult place to be week after week. As you can imagine one can never get ahead. You can try and try and try but after while you just want to curl up into the fetal position and bury your head. A very mature reaction, I know.

I guess what frustrates me the most is the lack of urgency. I have a lack of urgency, KD does not. We are just built differently. He is seemingly in effected about the entire situation where I just get hysterical. It is a good balance, overall, but only if there was a plan or action. There is none. I take action or try to plan. But to no avail. That results in circles. Like a one oared boat.

I am not blameless in this situation, on the contrary. I buy lunch out because I am disorganized and never plan lunches. That would save at least $35 per week or $140 a month. Not insignificant.

KD got paid last week, but we were in the hole, so we only have 63% of his check until next week. And next week it will be the same story. The mortgage comes out on Thursday. That takes up a little more than 50% of my check. So if we are in the hole come Thursday, then my check will 50% + whatever the hole is less than the full 100%. We have a weekly day care bill that must be paid. No matter what. Today is Sunday and I can say, with certainty, that we will be in the hole come pay day this week too.

And begin again.

When I am in one of my hysterical moments, KD reminds me of where we were a year ago and then two years ago. While I agree that we are better from those times, it doesn't give me the hope that we will one day be out of this vicious cycle.

The definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and expect different results! Well then it appears that I am I N S A N E.

It is a train wreck

Jon and Kate plus 8 has been one of my must watch shows, but recently with the new season, I cannot stomach it. Typically I can't look away from a good ol' train wreck, but this I have to look away.

To watch the edited version of a disintegrating marriage is just too much for me. Additionally I was shopping yesterday and saw Jon on the cover of People and Kate on the cover of Us. KD quickly pointed out that perhaps she should be on the cover of ME.

The Lone Star State

"He's a Texan." When I hear the word "Texan" I think 10 gallon hat, cow boy boots and a burly physique. He may have had the 10 gallon hat and cow boy boots, but he was not burly. He was of average height and slightly cherubic in physique. Not exactly what anyone from the North East would think of as a Texan. But a Texan he was. Born, raised and died in Texas.

He was the husband of my mother’s college roommate. As a result he has been a part of my entire life. Our family’s lives were not intertwined, but rather punctuated by ephemeral periods of warm memories. A talented artist and thoughtful friend he painted of a house with a for sale sign on the lawn. The for sale sign bore the name of the company for whom my mother had taken a job with after being home for 20 years. We had art of his throughout the house. The stories were almost epic. He went to college Baylor at age 15. He was a rancher and a compassionate and fair Judge. He raised three children and was married to his wife for 50 years. He drove her crazy. But isn’t that the way of a relationship that endures?

I remember when my parents divorced. He had business in Massachusetts, after his meeting had concluded in Boston; he rode a bus to the end of our street. I vividly remember watching him disembark carrying a laundry basket. I later learned that it was filled with drinking glasses from Mexico that were a favorite of my mother’s. I recall during that visit how emotionally raw I was and now in hindsight I can only imagine my mother’s pain. He was gentle and kind to her and as a result to us. I didn’t know him very well, but in that one visit I learned what kind of a man he was. A thoughtful, caring and supportive friend, for sure, but more than that, his soul and heart were pure.

When my mom’s roommate decided to get her best friends from each stage of her life together, he went along. He acted as gopher and chauffeur. He injected his humor whenever the opportunity arose, much to their amusement. When one of the four friends died, he was there to support all of them.

When KD and I decided to get married we knew that it was going to be a challenge, with differing faiths. KD didn’t want to marry in a church and I didn’t want to marry in a temple. So rather than hire a JP I asked my mother if she thought he would be willing to perform the ceremony. Being a Judge I knew he had had to have performed many a marriage ceremonies. He agreed! We were delighted!

We set about getting him authorized to solemnize in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. I began working on our vows. I had many sources and incorporated language from both Jewish and Christian ceremonies. I emailed them off to him when the ceremony grew closer. I made some unexpected edits and presented them to him at the rehearsal dinner. Not a good idea to spring changes on someone the night before. Unbeknownst to me this late change unsettled him. The ceremony was lovely, truly. He only referred to KD by another name once. We all had a good laugh, although he was devastated.

Our wedding was 15 years after my parents divorce. It was the event at which they reminisced with my dad. Friends. Old friends. There is nothing like a friend who knows all of the history. The good and the bad. When we heard earlier this week that he was dying, I emailed dad to let him know. Dad called and spoke to my mom's college roommate. She needed to hear that the doctor's had done everything they could and done everything right. Much needed comfort for her. She was able to say good bye knowing it was the right time.

As I sit here pouring out my thoughts regarding this significant human I look upon a painting. A beautifully rendered bucket of snap dragons hand painted by him. It is without reservation or hesitation that I say that the world is a little less bright without this Texan in our midst.

I was scared

I don’t know if it was a defining moment or just one more thing that makes me who I am. But it was certainly scary and made me afraid for a long, long time.

It was about 25 years ago, on May 5 or 6th 1984, I can’t remember the exact date anymore. We had been hanging around trying to figure out what to do. Finally, it was decided that we would walk all the way up to Queen Anne’s corner to get pizza. But along the way many of our group lost their enthusiasm for the long walk ahead of us and bailed. The party that remained was myself, my new best friend, C and T, we made it to Cushing Street where T departed. We continued on to where the road forks, C went one way and we went the other.

The street was dark, quiet and without houses. A few cars passed us and we chatted nervously. I don’t know if I told her that when I am scared I say things like “Easter Bunny, Christmas, Santa Claus,” before or after I saw him, but I vividly remember saying it.

He was walking on the same side of the street, in the same direction and as a result my heart beat slowed ever so slightly as compared to when I had first spied him. “Same side of the street is a good thing,” I told myself. We walked on. We saw a white car parked on the opposite side of the road, head in. It appeared to be a legitimate place for a car, or so I convinced myself. “Easter Bunny, Christmas, Santa Claus,” the chant went on, until I heard the snap of a twig.

In a nanosecond, adrenaline was coursing through my body and it propelled me away from the sound. I was on the inside, closest to the woods; my friend was on the street side, as I ran, I knocked her down. As soon as I knew she was on the ground, I stopped. The only thing I could do is scream. I screamed as loud and as primal as I have ever screamed in my life, either before or since. I prayed a car would come down the street while I was straddling the double yellow line, screaming and wetting my pants in terror.

It was futile, no houses, no lights, no cars. He grabbed her by her long hay colored hair. I could not kick him; I would have kicked her in the face. I could not run; I would have left her. No one would hear me scream. No one would see me as I followed this man, who was dragging my screaming friend, by her hair; into the woods...I was defeated.

As I followed my head snapped back and forth willing a car to appear, until we were engulfed by the woods and no longer visible from the road. I knelt on the slope of the embankment, as instructed, facing him. He sat on my friend’s back as she lay face down on the ground. She was still screaming. He told her to shut the fuck up. Curiously, I was cool as a cucumber. He told me to make her stop screaming. I asked my friend to please be quiet. I remained calm as he ordered me to turn around and put my hands behind my back. I did so, defiantly and turned back around. He ordered me again to turn around and put my hands behind my back. Again, I did so defiantly and turned back around. As he tied my hands behind my back, the words “What are you going to do rape us?” flew out of my mouth. I said it twice more, taunting him. I recall evoking God’s name, but not specifically what I said.

Some time passed, I don’t remember how much time, and he got off of her back. He did not try to retie my hands as I had wriggled out of the rope. He moved up the embankment and said, “I don’t know why I did this. I have never done anything like this before.” We took our opportunity and told him that we would stay right where we were for one hour so he could get away, we would give him all of our money. We swore we would not tell anyone, our parents, the police, no one. And with that he was gone. I vaguely remember hearing his car speed off. I don't remember if we spoke to eachother or just sat in silence, the deafening silence of my heart beat.

We waited, as promised, I don’t know that it was a full hour or not, but we waited. As soon as we felt ample time had passed, we ran all the way back to her house. She lost one shoe in the woods and another as we scrambled over a stone wall. Her hair was falling out in clumps. We told no one and did not sleep at all that night. Or the next night. Or the next. There was no where that I was unafraid. I was scared while standing at the bus stop at 8 o’clock in the morning.

The days that followed are a bit of a blur. I finally told my parents, my dad, on Thursday of the following week. He took me immediately to the police station. I had to retell the story and provide a description of my assailant. I was positive he had a mustache the next day after the attack, but now, I was not so sure. The detective asked if I could take him to where it happened. He drove my dad and me to the place. My friend had lost her shoe so I knew I could find the spot.

We found the tie that he used to tie my hands, my friend’s shoe and a noose. The detective took pictures and collected all the evidence. He said that this guy is just beginning and that we were very VERY lucky. The next woman who he attacked would not be as lucky.

My parents sent me to a therapist to ensure that my mental health remained intact. My friend and I went once together and I went by myself a few more times. The therapist explained to me why it was that I was able to remain calm, after the intial fright. She told me that I was so scared that my body reversed itself and made me act completely calm, which is why I was able to taunt this man. I don't remember much about that woman, but I remember that.

I only heard from the detective one more time, a few months later. I was at an ice cream store when I was approached by a man who asked me if he knew me from somewhere. I freaked out and called the detective. He came right down and questioned the man, as it turns out, he was a local drunk. He brought me home and that was the last I saw of him.

It has been so many years now and my fear has abated somewhat, but I do not ever put myself in potentially dangerous situations. I try hard not to be out, alone, at night in an unpopulated area. I certainly do not walk at night.

My friend and I are no longer close as we were back then and I know not if she remembers this day. This experience does not define me, but is part of me, it makes me who I am. I wonder if it is the same for my friend.

It is all fun and games

Until someone poops in the hot tub.

We went to Coco Key Indoor Water Resort. It was school vacation this week and I opened my mouth so long ago to ask them if they would be interested in going. Silly Mommy! OF course they would like to go!! KD was not interested in going AT all, so I flew solo. We went to one that was closer to our house for a recon mission, NO security, so we went to another resort.

We arrived on Saturday afternoon and left on Sunday afternoon. I tried to avoid the whole sleep over thing, but it ended up being more cost efficient to go with an overnight.

During our first visit to the water park Middle asked, "Can we go where it isn't wet?" I smiled huge and nodded and packed everyone up and headed to our room. A huge bonus! He proceeded to extract his wet clothes and put on his jams. After everyone had removed their wet clothes and donned appropriate dry clothes, we watched a marathon of Phineaus and Ferb, a show that is not typical at home, and perused the room service menu. Another treat as KD does indulge in, room service. It is without a doubt, very expensive, but the kids LOVED it! Especially middle. He ate in his jams, in BED!

After dinner we headed back down to the water park. We returned to our room at about 8ish and settled in to watch a show that was moderately appropriate and free, Harry Potter. Eventually they all fell asleep. I was up pretty much the whole night, every hour on the hour. I hate the first night in hotel sleeping. As this was the only night I was pretty much a wreck on Sunday.

On Saturday Middle stuck to the really REALLY safe rides. While Oldest had discovered two tall slides that were super exciting! Baby had discovered these slides, at the urging of Oldest, after dinner. It was pretty comical seeing a three footer going down the huge slides. He screamed with glee!

Sunday was a much braver day for Middle. Once he hit the bigger slides, we didn't see his little peach face for some time. He had a blast! We all had fun. I went down the slides a couple of times and really enjoyed myself.

We wandered outside to the hot tub, which technically is off limits to anyone under the age of 6. But the outside hot tub is unsupervised. So we spent some time, after lunch, in the hot tub. We went inside to retrieve a life vest for Baby. He held onto my fingers with a death grip and away we floated. When I got him out and sat him on the pool deck, I inquired, "Did you poop?" Why do I bother asking, the answer is ALWAYS the same.

Long story short, we had to throw his bathing suit away, alert the housekeeping staff to the biohazard in the family bathroom and let them know what "exhibit" the offense occurred.

Well, it didn't end up as glamorous as we had hoped, but at least we enjoyed the hot tub.

She did it!

She raised over her goal of $3,000, finished the marathon and had fun while doing it! We were there at mile 7, her friends were at mile 13 and our brother's were at mile 20. She finished!

Ready, set, GO

My sister is running the Boston Marathon today, her first marathon ever. We are so excited to cheer her on! Go Auntie B!!!!

Today

It is Palm Sunday today. We read the "Vivle" (thanks Oldest!) this morning, as I couldn't harangue all the kids to take them to church this morning. KD is working this morning and today is a VERY special day for which I have to clean, etc. Which is part of the reason we didn't make it to church.

Our last baby turned THREE at 2:45 a.m. this morning!

Happy Birthday! We love you!

I am here

Anyone have a guess?