Category: Life Happens (Page 1 of 6)

Folding and unfolding, the universe is origami

“Origami is a metamorphic art form. You got that piece of paper. You don’t add to it – you don’t take away from it, you CHANGE it”- Micheal Lafosse

While I was on blog ‘hiatus’ our family grew. Her name is Origami.

I had last seen her in 2004 – I took her to the beach and she was just learning to walk. 1932249_10152259835199767_201427886_nNannygoat and Lloyd had brought her to California for a visit. They were living in Utah, working out the details to move out here to us. Nannygoat adored Origami and was quickly learning the ins and outs of motherhood, despite the fact that she was not Origami’s biological mother. Bio-mom had agreed to Lloyd having sole custody and actually hadn’t seen Origami in months, when on Mother’s Day of 2004 she asked Nannygoat if she could please have a little visit she would sign the custody papers and it would be finished. Nannygoat and Lloyd were young and trusting, they had no reason not to let bio-mom have a visit, despite the fact that she hadn’t seemed to care for months.

And then she was gone. Disappeared.

For 10 years we hunted, searched, and scoured the earth. But we could not locate our little lost Origami. All we could do was hope and pray that she was happy and healthy.  Unfortunately, that was not her truth.

By a stroke of luck (and public arrest records) in early 2014, we located bio-mom. The excitement for Nannygoat and Lloyd was almost unbearable. Eventually, they were able to find out where Origami was and following the proper channels/laws and began the process of bringing her home.

The little toddler was so grown! But she didn’t know we existed. Didn’t know that we had cared and searched and mourned her loss. She didn’t know she was going to live with a Dad she didn’t know was alive and three half-sisters she’d never dreamed11037222_10153262685489767_4164099669592052339_n of. Her life while away from us was what I consider quite harsh. We had no idea what she would be like, after living that way for 10 years. In fact, until the day Nannygoat and Lloyd showed up, she didn’t even know her real name.

Now, we know. She is unique, creative and beautiful. She is one of the best big sisters I have ever met. Her soul is pure, unadulterated love. She loves magic tricks and anything art. Her hugs make my world. Her laughter is a gift.

The quote says origami is a metamorphic art form that you don’t add to or take away from – you just change it. Our family was missing our paper folder, our Origami, and now that she is here we are changed into something even more wonderful.

Adventure is not outside man; it is within

It has been 2 years, one month and seven days since I last posted here. I miss journaling. And that is what this was supposed to be.

I can’t let go. I think I’m back.

A new adventure begins now.

All endings are also beginnings. We just don’t know it at the time

Five.

I remember the day Ladybug started kindergarten. I took the morning off work, we put her on the bus and then her mother and I drove as fast as we could to the IMG_0946aschool to meet her and walk her to class. My first granddaughter started school.

This year, Watermelon would have started kindergarten. My first grandson. Another first added to the scrapbook in my mind. First smile, first step, first words, first day of school. All those firsts that can only exist in our imagination and wishes.

I remember him in perfection. I envy his utter joy and peace in Heaven. I have complete faith that I will see him again and it will be glorious. But I suffer while I wait. My arms ache to swing him up into my arms and cradle his body against me.

Five.

Not any easier than the others.

Happy Birthday, Collin. Grandma loves you.

A Secret In The Hand. Or Was That A Bird? Whatever.

Just when I wonder…”what oh what will I write about now?” the fabulous Everyday Mama comes up with a blog-hop that really makes me think! Because, I have shared so much here, are there really 25 things you DON’T know about me?

Digging as deep as I can…Here are (I hope I can get to 10, but trying for) 25 things you don’t know about me:

  1. Every other first born female in my family (going back generations) had twins. I am that ‘every-other’ generation and I am the first born female. I do not have twins. Although I did marry one!
  2. My first job was in a tropical fish store. I was 13 and I gave the wrong change. The guy called me a thief and the owner convinced him it was just a mistake. I cried. After that I just cleaned tanks.
  3. When we played ‘army’ in the neighborhood I always volunteered to be the nurse.
  4. In fourth grade I was teacher’s pet.
  5. In fifth grade I was ‘put up’ to sixth grade the first week of school. (yea, I skipped a grade)
  6. My dad taught me to ride a motorcycle at age 9. My first bike was a blue Honda 70.
  7. Even better, he taught me to bait a hook and fish at age 5.
  8. There is only one thing I hate about SoCal: The lack of river fishing. I need some rushing water. STAT.
  9. I went snowshoeing with a youth group in junior high through the Yosemite back country to a cabin way out in the woods. There was no electricity and we read  Call Of The Wild out loud to each other until late in the night. It was the best night’s sleep I have ever had in my entire 48 years.
  10. I have seen many dead bodies through my work at hospitals over the years and I was okay with it.
  11. One time, though, it wasn’t okay and it wasn’t at work. Some day, maybe, I will tell that story.
  12. All I ever wanted to be growing up was a veterinarian.
  13. As an young adult, I only wanted to be in criminal justice.
  14. Now, I just want to be a vet again. Mostly, because I need one and can’t afford it.
  15. I worked as a ‘scab’ during the grocery strike. It was great money and we really needed it. But 70 hours a week isn’t something I could have sustained for long, so I was glad when it was over.
  16. I took three years of French in high school, was pretty fluent and wanted to be an exchange student my senior year. I can’t remember a lick of it now.
  17. I was president of the Science Club and in the spirit club, at the same time (I was a geek/popular chick blend–I belonged everywhere and nowhere).
  18. I played a GREAT right wing in PAL soccer.
  19. I split my leg open in a motorcycle accident at 14. I wasn’t driving, a friend of my mom was and we went over a bump. I flew off and hit a tree.
  20. I went to an emergency room in a teeny tiny town and got sewn up by what I am sure was an 18 year old crazy kid posing as a doctor.
  21. Three days later I had a red line running up my leg. After that I was put in isolation and my wound was left open to heal from the inside out. I had 17 different kinds of infection, including staff.
  22. I had cosmetic surgery at 16 and 18 to try and remove the scar.
  23. I still adore my husband. Even though we have been together since I was 13 and I am now 48. Or despite that fact.
  24. My dad bought us a pony named Chocolate when I was 15. He was a mean, mean pony who kicked and bit. He also ran me into a tree. His name should have been Houdini, because he was an expert at escape.
  25. Chocolate did not live with us for long.
OH wow, I did it! I am so proud of myself! If you want to challenge yourself too, head on over to EverydayMama’s bloghop! The more the merrier.

I Just Want To Go Back To Bed

You know it’s going to be a bad day when……

  • You wake up to discover it is Friday, not Saturday
  • You’re about halfway to work, you glance in the rearview mirror and realize you put on the ‘white’ mascara base but forgot the mascara
  • You get to work pour your cereal into a bowl and find you left the milk at home
  • You wake up with a headache and two hours later it’s still with you

BlogHer recap post to come soon. Possibly soon. Maybe soon-ish.

Renegades is a better word. It implies a spirit of adventure.

The doctor tried to break the news gently. She promises that in time I will overcome their careless disregard of consequences. That my sense of abandonment will dwindle. The ugly truth? My hormones up and left me. They flew the coop without even a kiss goodbye. Snuck off in the dead of night, leaving only a few stragglers. They didn’t warn me. They gave no notice of their intentions. Like deserters who knew we were going to lose the battle, they absconded while their general looked the other way.

Perhaps I knew deep inside, because I’ve been crying lately. I don’t know why I cry. Perhaps it’s their legacy: Tears for no reason. Happy tears, sad tears; random and unexpected tears at any given moment. That is not all they left behind, those hormonal cop-outs. There is the 30 pound weight gain in two months, a fatigue as deep and dark as the Marian Trench, a firestorm of evil probiotics wreaking havoc in my gut, and a vitamin D deficiency that I am sure is degenerating my bones as we speak. Farewell gifts I could do without.

I thought I had a few years left. Or, perhaps, I thought I was younger than I am. Years have a way of sneaking up on a person. One day you are cuddling babies, the next surviving teenagers, then one morning you wake up and you’re a grandmother. Time and hormones are stealthy like that: creeping up on you slowly, distracting you with their might, deceptively lingering only to vanish without warning.

I’ll tell you what I am going to do:

I am firing my ovaries.

Food Is The Most Primitive Form Of Comfort

I fell off the WW wagon. Not sure if I can get back on. In the meanwhile, I’ve been riding (exercise!), working (also exercise of a sort) and caring for Calypso (definitely exercise-ever walked and washed a 900 pound dog?). I’ve been busy, busy, busy and trying to find quick and easy but tasty dinners to fit into my busy schedule. Tonight I made something everyone loved. It was quick and easy and, in my opinion, full of excellent flavor. Also? If you are a vegetarian, it’s vegetarian! (Bonus points for being pretty damned inexpensive).

4oz angel hair pasta
18-25 slices baguette, about 1/4″ thick
2 TBL butter, melted
10-oz alfredo pasta sauce (the refrigerated stuff)
3/4 C shredded swiss cheese
1TBL Basil herb blend (the stuff in the squeeze bottle in the produce section)
3 roma tomatoes, chopped
2Tbl parmesan cheese (straight out of the shaker)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Cook and drain pasta. While pasta is cooking, brush bread with butter. Line a 9″ pie pan with bread (butter side up), slightly overlapping. Bake bread 10 mins or until brown. Remove from oven and reduce temp to 350. Stir swiss cheese, alfredo sauce and basil blend together with hot (drained) pasta. Spoon onto baked bread crust. Top with tomatoes and then parmesan cheese (I took the pic before I put on the parmesan cheese, whoops). Bake 15-20 minutes and let stand 5 minutes before cutting (although some people couldn’t wait).

Bon appetit!

A moment in my tummy… a lifetime in my heart

There are people out there who will find me absurd when I proclaim what I am about to. There are some who will think I am spoiled and ungrateful; crazy, insane, or brainless. Some may be hurt aggrieved due to their own struggles and believe I am not grateful, although I know I am. Those who have never experienced it (and are happiy that way), may find me laughable.

I can’t change my desires. My yearning. My hankering. The daily/nightly burning craving.

To have a baby.

Not ’just’ to have a child. Although that is the real desire. But I also covet the pregnancy days. The feeling of growth within my body. The nurturing of innocent life. The muscle cramps, The weight gain. The lumbering walk. The quickening. The kicks and rolls.

But yes, end run game, I want  to have another baby of my own. Another child. A thought that had been gone for years. A possibility that has been gone for years. Yet the vision reappears and persists.

Why this overwhelming need? I have grandchildren for heaven’s sake! Yet, adorable and wonderful as they are? They are not mine alone. Completely and dependently mine. The first face they see in the morning and the last at night. All mistakes and accomplishments, of me and by me.

Readers my age, is this normal? Am I doomed to a life of wishing and wanting another baby of my own? Or is this some kind of midlife crisis breeder style? Men get cars and moms yearn for babies in their wombs? More importantly…how do I make it go away? Obviously, holding other’s babies (even my own grandbabies) isn’t going to work: I want one of my own!!!! And knowing it is a physical impossibility is having not one tiny bit of effect on my infatuation with wanting to be pregnant!

Don’t get me wrong…I am not sad about it. I dealt with that years ago. This just seems to be some kind of overwhelming want to gestate and give birth and raise a baby. I’ve lost it. Obviously.

Hormones? Insanity? I bet if someone would loan me a baby for a month I would get over it. Volunteers?

Fantastic Friday

There is so much to catch up with on here. So much I want to share. I hope to have some time this weekend to get some of it done!

But I will leave you with the best news of 2011, so far:

Today I was offered and accepted a permanent job with my company. It was longer in coming than they had said, but well worth the wait. I may have pretended to play hard to get a bit…they offered me $6,000 more per year than they originally said they were going to.

Gonna pop some bubbly tonight!

A closed mouth catches no flies

I do think it is possible that the world has gone overboard in the “politically correct” department. Sometimes people get really carried away, HOWEVER, I also strongly believe in people closing their mouths and THINKING before they release the stupid thoughts in their minds.

 As my mother always said, “If you don’t have nothin’ nice to say, don’t say nothin’ at all.” If more people would heed this sage advise the world (at least mine) would be a happier place. One in which I would never have to know these things were said…..

 A parent at Ladybug’s elementary school (during a planning meeting for the school Harvest Festival with all the room mothers) said to NannyGoat:

                “Who is your child’s teacher?  What grade?”
                “Mrs. X, K and 1st combined”
                “Combined? I’ve never heard of such a thing at this school.”
                “It’s the Special Day class.”
                ”Oh! So the ‘special’ kids are coming to this event? How great that they can join all the regular kids.”

Nanny was also at the planning of a school cultural event. Each group had a different country and they had to have several booths of different arts/crafts/food etc. set up for that country. Nan’s group got Japan. One of the parents began their meeting by smugly informing everyone that she had arranged for a local restaurant to supply chop sticks and a fortune cookie for every student. One of the other parents (of Asian descent) said to that parent: “That is wonderful that you already did that. I think the chopsticks will be great and we can use those. But the fortune cookies are actually a Chinese tradition, not Japanese.” To which Ms. Smug actually replied: “China. Japan. Whatever. They are both Asian, right?”

 And lastly, while Nanny is arranging the teacher requested Halloween party (she is the room mother poor thing), she sends an email to each parent informing them the cost for each student (food and supplies aren’t free, you know). She receives an email back from one of the parents that states: “We do not celebrate Halloween, we celebrate All Saint’s Day. Therefore, I will not be contributing to this event. However, I will allow my son to attend the party, so he doesn’t feel left out from the rest of the class.”

 WHAT? You are going to allow your child to go eat and party with the kids while everyone else pays???

 It’s Monday. Had to get this off my chest…

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