sickness and in health

I hate being sick. I hate not cuddling Rich, or kissing him. I hate the creepy schedule where you end up sleeping most of the day and then cant sleep at night. I hate aches, and nausea. I hate my life being turned upside down, and on a weekend too.

Now that I have vented, i really really really appreciate friends like Cindy who step up and tell me to go home and that she will take care of rehearsal. I love and appreciate my husband who is always looking out for me. I really have no cause to complain, with such a good life...whats a little bit of sick anyway?

Books and Movies

I love books...i mean i REALLY love books. There isnt much I love more than taking a good book into a hot bath and reading until it is devoured and I have consumed the complete emotional journey of the characters.

I loved the Twilight books, and the second movie was wonderful. I loved the Harry Potter books, and the movies were hit and miss - some amazing, some not so much.

One of my favorite books was Ken Follett's 'Pillars of the Earth'. I loved it so much, and just learned that they are turning it into a mini series (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091207/ap_en_ot/eu_hungary_pillars_of_the_earth) I am so excited. I always love to see if a movie director takes what is so vivid in my imagination and brings it to life in a way I expect.

Some books should probably never be made into a movie. I loved the book 'The Life of Pi' but it wouldnt make a very good movie - it would be too much of a horror film. I loved the book 'A Thousand Splendid Suns', but I am not certain that would work in film either. The emotional and physical treatment wouldnt read as well in the starkness of the visual only. They both rely on being inside of the protagonist's head to have a true appreciation.

I am sure the fans of the Gone with the Wind book wondered how any movie could do it justice, or The Thorn Birds, or North and South. ...but justice was done in all instances and I look forward to seeing 'Pillars' brought to life in film.

Christmas....Cindy Lou or the Grinch?

For so long I have hated Christmas. I dont know why...I guess it always has meant an argument about lights for the tree...or tension about having enough money - or not enough to just let the spirit of giving pour out of me. I can always think of such thoughtful gifts, but.....money is always an issue and I end up stymied and frustrated by not being able to 'give' in the way I would like.

I loved Christmas as a kid. I remember barely sleeping as I waited for morning to come. Such excitement. I loved church and christmas carols and my Mom's big family coming over to all celebrate together.

When we moved to Georgia Christmas lost its wonder. No big family. No big excitement. Every year it was the guilt of not having enough money to give to others, and trying to scratch together enough to have a wonderful christmas for my own girls. Rich working the holiday didnt help either. No family except my own little girls to try to keep happy and not let them know for a single moment that it wasnt the most amazingly happy day to me. We baked Jesus a birthday cake every year and sang to him. We went to see movies. We sang songs. Anything so that they would believe I loved the holiday and they would love it too and look forward to it. That, and Rich made a career out of Grinch Impressions. He hated Christmas so much that it finally wore off on me and not only did I not look forward to the day, I became Mrs. Grinch.

When they got old enough the pretense stopped. I barely put up a tree. Rich didnt like it much that I hated Christmas. Interestingly enough....he started to like the holiday some at this point. Trying to encourage a tree, and the shopping, and some modicum of holiday cheer.

This year.....I am feeling a bit like Cindy Lou Who. My life is so good, I have so much to celebrate...that Christmas music, the tree...looking forward to a house full of family...is just wonderful :) I will take delight is cookign the roast beast, making who pudding, and making a day that isnt as much about presents as it is about spending time with the people I love, celebrating our traditions, and a new life with adult relationships that have so much substance. Yes, there is so much reason to enjoy Christmas this year. I think, other than Rich's reading of the book, that the Grinch will stay away this year.

Ensemble

There is nothing I enjoy more about theatre than when a group comes together as an ensemble. When they respect each other, are committed and determined to do their best, and celebrate enjoying the art together. Today was like that all around.

My middle school cast really showed me good things today. They were able to focus in a way they havent in quite a while and it showed!

The community theatre cast was amazing in welcoming new people and pulling together great stuff.

And the HSM2 cast worked SO hard and got SO much done today. Sometimes change is good, and needed and brings growth. Today we had a couple of incredibly positive additions to the ensemble in choreographer and the young man playing Troy. Sometimes positive energy is all it takes to turn a group around. They sure did that for us today.

I had FUN, despite rehearsal being 8 hours long. LOTS of fun. Might I actually get my 'theatre sparkle' back? I hope so.

a growing family...

Thanksgiving growing up was all about a huge family...more people than logistically fit in Our house, but we fit somehow. There were not a lot of traditions outside of timing the length of time it took for us all to devour our big meal. One year 20 of us were all finished eating a massive feast in 11 minutes flat. How absurd!

Then we moved to Georgia, and suddenly there were just four of us. My own little family and all of my sense of holidays had always involves hoardes of people...with the four of us I always felt lonely. So often Rich had to leave for work every holiday at 3 to work second shift, leaving just the three of us - me and Boo and Lou to spend the day. We started to create our own traditions to give new meaning to our holidays. To give me the comfort of looking forward to 'our things' and not missing the big extended family gatherings of my childhood.

The first tradition involved the movies. It was always so lonely when Rich left for work, so instead of staying home lonely we always went to the movie matinee on thanksgiving and christmas. We looked forward to our movie holidays. We didnt go to the movies often, so it was such a treat.

The next tradition involved the Macy's Day Parade. We watched diligently from the start of the parade to the end when Santa arrived. The girls always looked forward to the arrival of Santa, believing the Macy's Santa to be the real Santa. Then the Macy's parade developped all kinds of food traditions. It became like two thanksgivings - the breakfast meal, then the turkey meal. I call it a breakfast meal, but it doesnt involve many breakfast foods. Mostly it involves snackish things the girls love: orange cinnamon rolls, crab cheese ball and cracker, spin dip and veggies, pigs in a blanket, chips and onion dip, and fruit dipped in chocolate. Strange combination for breakfast, but the grazing on it begins at 9AM and continues through the parade and into the big dog show following. Another tradition.

Callaway Gardens light extravaganza is a newer addition to the routine, replacing the yearly viewing of 'It's a Wonderful Life'

Our family of four has gotten larger. Bekah bringing Jen to be part of our family. Dad coming to be part of our family holiday celebration, and this year Laura bringing Chris. We will see if he becomes part of our family, but he seems to fit quite well. The family is growing but the traditions remain the same. It is good to have traditions...common expectations that bind our family together.

So.......it is dog show time. I am about ready to clean up the breakfast feast. The Turkey feast is warming in the oven, turkey roasted all night. I need to make the gravy, cook the rolls, open the cranberry sauce, set the table and get ready to sit down with the people I love so much and give thanks.

Waiting...but definitely not for Godot

This morning I am feeling that butterfly excitement in my stomach, waiting for christmas morning to get here in the middle of the night excitement feeling as I wait for my family to arrive.

I love our empty nest, I really do. Rich and I have found joy and comfort in our routines and our time to spend and talk and cuddle. We like and love each other and life is good. I dont really want the girls to move back in, but I do miss them. I miss their hugs, and I miss their laughter. I miss having somebody to talk to about theatre. I miss hearing about their day, and knowing they are up on their computers chatting with the world instead of sleeping. (yeah, most moms would be saying they miss seeing them tucked sleeping into their beds. I dont think I have seen that for a couple of years. They outlast me in the stay up all night department)

So here I am, writing a blog about waiting....while I wait for my girls...

It kind of is like waiting for Godot...waiting for the people I love who will turn my life upside down in the most glorious way for a couple of days and then go back to their own lives. Maybe Chris is really Godot. He has never visited before...it could be......

Chris, is your middle name Godot?

The Visit

I have been wondering when Mom would visit me. I know she has visited Dad, and Jen......and maybe Dana too...probably Dana. She would want to check up on him. He was always very much on her mind.

So, it was Sunday morning and I was cooking for thanksgiving. Wanting to get most of the cooking done before family arrived so I could enjoy their company and not be stressing about what was left to do in the kitchen. I was listening to christian music and singing as I cooked....and suddenly I began to tingle all over...warm, like a hug of pure emotion. She wanted me to know she was with me as I was preparing a feast I wanted her to be with us for more than anything. Now...I know she will be with us, whenever we are all together, loving each other, we all remember her and the wonderful way she loved us all.....and she is with us

I love you Momma.

Giving Thanks.....

I have had the most wonderful life ...and plan to keep having a wonderful life.

Family: two parents who were the most amazing people. Role models both as individuals and role models for marriage.

A brother who I am so glad I have had the chance to get to know this past year. Even if the circumstances werent the best..it is nice to know you Dana.

A husband who is the most amazing man and partner. Who takes care of me..and believe me, that takes some doing. A 25 year marriage with a person that I would choose today if I had to choose again.

Two daughters that are amazing people. Who have strong character, good hearts, talented and determined and have so much to offer the world.

I live in a wonderful community with people who are so supportive of the theatre program, and me personally.

I have such good friends.

My administration is amazing. I thank God for Stacey Carlisle every single day. She has brought the joy back into teaching for me.

I have wonderful students who find excitement in learning about theatre.

My dogs are always there to lick and wag their tails when they see me. they make me feel like I am the most important person.

I am so lucky that Bekah has a life partner who is an amazing and good person who shares Bek's passion for film.

I am thankful that Laura is having a cavity enducing experience in her life.

I love my house. I love my bed (although right now I sure wish I hadnt had coffee while i was baking)

I love cooking and creating new tastes.

I loved cooking all day today for my family. I love that I am able to do something for them.

I love most that we are all going to get together this week. To talk, to laugh, to remember, to love, to share, to EAT

I dont think we give thanks enough. I think we are always looking for more, better, improved. I know I am. As I am on my quest for more, better, and improved , I forget that today is its own blessing. I forget to say "i love you" often enough, or "thank you" often enough. I forget to slow down and savor life. I am always in such a rush. On to the next project without taking a nice breathe to enjoy the completion of the one before it.

So...my middle of the night sleepless self promise is to give thanks more for all of the blessings in my wonderful life.

Aging

I used to claim that I was like Peter Pan, I would never grow up. I still am not sure how grown up I am inside. I feel like I am a teenager most days. Sadly, My body doesnt concur and the clock keeps ticking. I had a horrible sinking feeling today when I realized that I am now 45. I remember when I thought people who were 45 were OLD and I realize that is how they must think of me.

Age is not just a state of mind, no matter how much I say that it is. The body does indeed age. Mine is a prime example of the aging thing. Diabetes, arthritis in my knees, cholesterol...whatever else. Sometimes the body can undermine the youth in my mind. Mostly though, I forget I am not still 18 and just enjoy my life.

I think, in fact......i need to find something incredibly silly and fun to do just to make sure I remember that I am, in fact, NOT too old.

Daughters and Judgement

My daughters bring me so much joy. I am so proud of them. Proud of how hard they work. Proud of their work ethic. Proud of their creativity. Proud of how they love one another and the world around them. Proud that they respect themselves enough not to 'settle' for less than the best the world could offer them.

That isnt to say they are without faults, they have faults just like everybody else. I find the world so interesting sometimes. How we judge the faults of another to be so much more severe than our own. How we think we have the right to decide what is right or wrong for another person. That we choose to ignore God's laws when we break them, but put other people under the 'christian-o-meter' I call it and decide that their failings make them worse in Gods eyes. Those same people must ignore Jesus telling us to remove the plank from our own eye before we try to remove the splinter from somebody else's. In God's eyes all sins are the same. They are all sins, and Jesus died for the forgiveness of every single one of them. It is only in Man's hypocritical judgemental eyes that the sins are sorted and ranked. What we ignore is that we sort and rank using Man's law, but we try to ascribe it to the bible and call it God's Law. I promise, none of us would like it if we were dealing with God's Law. Ever curse? yep......go directly to jail, dont pass go. Ever covet another person's Ipod, House, Computer, Car, clothes? ....go directly to jail, dont pass go. Ever flirt with another person's spouse, boyfriend, girlfriend? ....go directly to jail, dont pass go. Ever talk ugly about a friend behind their back? Go to Jail and stay there...you have just broken the biggest of the commandments "to love ones neighbor as we love ourselves."

So many of my life views are far more conservative than liberal.......but I can't call myself a conservative. Conservatives lack empathy, they dont look at life through another's eyes. They tend to be narrowminded, and think they have the right to stand as judge and jury for others. How interesting that these same people also claim to have the market on christianity cornered! Jesus would turn in his grave, if he had stayed there more than three days.

I digress......what else is new, right?

My daughters are a source of pride to me. I dont care how others see them I see only the beautiful wonderful things about them. I guess I see them the way Jesus would see them, with unconditional love and a willingness to forgive them anything if they only ask.

I miss them both. I am excited to see my Laura Lou this weekend, give her a hug, watch her accomplishments with pride, and meet her 'child'.

I am glad that motherhood doesnt end ...it just changes forms.

The End

The End. Sometimes it is so nice to say that and feel the peace and calm of concluding an episode of your life. That is how I feel about the conclusion of the 'Little Shop' episode of my life. The show went well. Talented talented people. Audiences were entertained. Mission accomplished. Job done.

When I started the community theatre it was with a hope of bringing theatre to life in harris county, bridging the gap between kids and adults, creating a thriving community of the arts here. Two years later - A few of us kill ourselves to bring theatre to the stage. We are all worn out and tired of having to fight with others to help pull their weight on any given project. The 'expectation' is that that core few of us will do whatever it takes ...mostly without thanks. The End.

I might, somewhere down the road attempt another venture, but at the moment I am not at all inclined to do so. I am not inclined to do anything more with it at all. I have committed to summer camp this summer, but beyond that - time will tell. My vision of Theatre is a vision of collaboration - that vision is not being realized and I am weary and I am tired of wearing out the core who commit their time and effort to help in a venture that I absolutely cannot complete on my own.

I 'should' feel sad, but I dont. I feel relieved to have one more thing off my plate of responsibilities. I am getting old enough to just want to relax and enjoy time with the people I love. (yes Rich, that means you)

So.....onward to new possibilities...dont know what they are...but when one door closes, another always opens that is ussually even better.

the play is the thing....or is it?

I am tired. I love theatre, but I am running out of steam. I think it is time for a break. I am going to take a break and do nothing more with the community theatre for the rest of this year. I cant - I am just tired and cant do it alone and it is too much of a drain on the few people who do help.

I am going to stick to quick and simple at school, except for the spring extravaganza..but thats different.

Anyway, off to final dress rehearsal for Little Shop of Horrors...glad it will be over this weekend.

Talent

When I was young I believed that my intelligence and talent were all I needed to be successful. I believed that my intelligence and talent mean the world OWED me recognition. I was so vain and so foolish.

As an educator I have found that those with the most intelligence or talent take it for granted. They dont learn to work hard. They dont learn to dig deep and push themselves for personal excellence. They just expect it all. These kids arent very happy. They spend most of their time being judgemental and looking at themselves in comparision to others and finding themselves superior. It must be lonely there in their world of exclusion, they dont have the world of people and experiences to enjoy because they are too locked into their own limited vision.

Then there are the kids who work for everything. These kids become talented. They find true joy in what they do. They dont exclude, they include. They work and work and work....and strive to be better with each task. They are friendly, pleasant, engaging and I would take a kid like this over the 'talented' any day of the week.

I wish that each of us had the possibility to see one day of the future...sort of like Dickens Christmas Carol...to see where we could go if we strived to be the best we could be. If we could see where our actions would lead. It would have saved me lots of years of mediocrity. Why was I mediocre? Because I thought my talent and intelligence meant i should get my 'due' instead of working for it. I wish i could give this knowledge to the best and brightest so they do not have to have that mammoth crash to earth that comes when they figure out that intelligence and talent are no substitute for character.

The Grind

As life gets back into the routine...or 'the grind' I find myself resisting. I enjoyed this past summer, and actually letting go of work and just LIVING with my family as a priority and work on the backburner. I am struggling to feel the drive to spend every waking moment working. I am frustrated by changes that feel like re-inventing the educational wheel yet again. I feel like I am on a treadmill, going nowhere.

I need to find some balance or I will be miserable this year.

All I know is....I miss my babies
I miss the beach
I miss my Daddy
I ache for my Mom
and I want my life to slow down :(

in sickness and in health...

This has been a year for both.....

through sickness and health my husband is always there.

I will never stop being grateful.

Thank you honey for taking care of me this weekend when i was sick, and all of the times I have been sick over the past 25 years.

I hope more 'health' is to follow...
Love,
your merrie

The Quest for Excellence...

My mother and father always demanded that I do my best. When I was younger I resented it. I didnt understand why other kids could slack off, and enjoy more of their free time when I always had to work so hard and was held to a higher standard. It frustrated me. They never backed down, so I was forced, coerced through a series of consequences that it would be better do work hard and have happy times at home. Life was simply not pleasant if my parents were not getting good reports from my teachers. I will never forget my freshman year of HS, before I transferred to St. Marks, I had a B+ in biology, not on a report card, not on a progress report...somewhere in the middle. A B+ because I had not turned in a homework assignment or two. The teacher, knowing my parents because they both worked in the system, informed them that I was missing assignments. This missing work was unacceptable to my parents, and as a result I was forced to give up my lead in the school play in order to focus on my schoolwork. Can you tell there is still a twinge of resentment there?

I do have a point. I resented how hard they pushed but somewhere along the way their demands for excellence became part of my make up, and I resolved to never expect less than the best from myself. This drives people in my life crazy at times. It means I work too many hours, and that I bring my work home during the times I am not just staying endlessly at work to get things done to my satisfaction. But I am intrinsically motivated. I look around, listen to television, the news, the younger generation and all I see are a bunch of people who expect to get something for everything they do. They are not satisfied with just the 'good feeling' that comes from doing something excellently..they want a reward. They want a banner, or a pat on the back...no..they dont WANT that..they EXPECT it.

We no longer seem to be a society who is on a quest for excellence. We are on a quest for what we can get...constantly asking "what have you done for me lately."

I hope this trend turns around...there arent enough rewards to go around, and the apathy that will follow is incomprehensible to me.

Missing.....

I spend a lot of my life missing people. I miss Meme, I miss my Mom, I miss my daughters, I miss my aunts and uncles, my cousins, my Dad , my brother, my niece and nephew, I miss my friends from high school, college....heck I miss my friends here because my life is so busy I dont have time for them. Now...for the next few days I am adding someone else to miss with Rich out of town until Sunday I will miss him as well.

You never realize how much someone means until there is a space in your life they filled. The little things - like...Rich gets up in the morning to make me coffee and breakfast before I go to work, or.... the days he works all night and gets home and makes coffee and when my alarm goes off and I get up to go into the bathroom, he has sat a cup of hot coffee on the counter so I can have a sip before I even get my eyes adjusted to light. His hug when I come in the door in the afternoon that says without a word that all is well with the world...I am home..and I am loved.
Monday we went to the movies....and my romantic and wonderful husband held my hand through the movie (he always does that) but he would bring my hand to his lips during the movie, and kiss the palm of my hand. Not a word, but a gesture of caring that made me feel like the most important person in the world to him. He does things like that all the time. Quiet acts of kindness and love ..they arent full of bravado, they arent for show..they are just simple loving gestures that mean the world to me. I will miss them with him gone.

I miss meme and mom. I miss that secure feeling...the guiding hand that I always knew was just a phone call away. I miss being able to have somebody to talk to about my girls, about my husband, about my work.....about my thoughts and feelings. Somebody objective who would love me no matter what I shared. I took for granted how much that meant to me. I didnt ever show either of them how much I cared while I could show them. I will always regret that. I have a hole in my life that they used to occupy and that noone else could possibly fill.

I miss my daughters. I miss the ease of just being able to hug them to let them know I loved them. I miss knowing everything about their day. I am so glad they are one another's best friend...but it leaves me out of the equation a bit, and sometimes I just want to cry from missing those precious girls. I sure do wish they would e-mail or call more. I do much better with e-mail!

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I am not sure my heart has room to get any fonder of the wonderful man I married 24 years ago. He has his faults, but we love each other, and that is all that matters.

I guess the point of this missive is to appreciate the moments you have with the people you love. Dont let irritation, or complacence cause you to miss the importance of those moments. You never know when you wont get any more of them. Love long, Love lots...and tell the people you love how much you appreciate them every day.

Theatre.....what it means to me....

Theatre ....... just saying that word gives me a soaring boost of adrenaline. I love everything about it. I love watching it, I love thinking about it, I love planning for it, I love acting, designing, directing, producing.....I love the collaborative nature of the art that brings people together with a sharing of talents and gifts and makes the most of each - raising each participant up. I love theatre people - they are the most creative, feeling, wide open people on the planet. They are just not afraid to play around in the feelings and thoughts inside of themselves that other people repress and suppress. They also tend to be insecure people who crave validation and are not particicularly intrinsically motivated. That insecurity is what lets them move so freely into the role of another...there is security in that, the script is constant and the outcome certain. The emotional journey is identified so there is no personal risk.

I love teaching theatre. I love opening the eyes and minds of young people to a medium they havent really encountered. I love catching them before their creativity is closed off, and opening them up to always thinking and experiencing things freely.

Being Grateful

I have so much to be grateful for. A wonderful family. A job I love and that never stops being full of the good kind of challenges that inspire me to do better. A principal who supports and believes in what I do with children. Students who are willing to commit to excellence. A wonderful house. Dogs who make me smile every day. Relatively good health. Friends. Talents.

So often we take everything for granted. I just wanted to stop for a moment today to say how grateful I am for all of the blessings of my life. I need to remember every day to stop and take time to smell the flowers...appreciate everything beautiful....and breathe it in. That is what joy is about.

Mommy Dearest...

I had Bekah young. I was a married adult, but I was still young. Before she came I was a complete and total slob. I thought life was about fun, the next sensation, the next adventure, the next friend, cheeseburger, mall visit, restaurant. I was a person who was on the go all the time...unless I was in bed. Those were my two states of being - moving at a frantic pace, or not moving at all.

Then Bekah was conceived and our life changed. Rich joined the army so we would have medical insurance for her birth, and left when I was four months pregnant. I was left to be pregnant alone. I had family....Rich's parents living upstairs and My parents and aunts and cousins and Meme and my friends at college. I wasnt alone alone, but I did miss Rich being there to share with me the first time she really kicked, and the growing stomach and the eternal vomiting which I did for nine months. Then she was born....after 20 hours of hellacious labor...but that fades the moment that precious baby is placed in your arms. I looked at her and from that moment my life changed. I was responsible for her. All of the possibilities of her life depended on me doing the right thing....loving her enough, loving her dad enough...being strong and dependable and keeping things clean and my life structured and orderly. I read book after book on raising a child. Making lists and plans for how to raise her, not just through infancy but forever. A plan so that she would always feel I was consistent and constant and not a flibberty gibbet which is my natural life tendency. Suddenly the apartment was clean. Not just sometimes, all the time. I washed her clothes in nothing but ivory snow. She was clean and bathed always. She was held, and loved, and sung to... not just by me but by an army of people who loved her.

I will never forget the first time Rich saw his little Ms. Magoo...she had that friar tuck baldish thing going on for a very long time. I put her in his arms and they just looked at each other, neither of them moving. It was like their souls connected. For her whole growing up Bekah was such a Daddy's girl from that moment on. She smiled and laughed so often, and she was inquisitive and loved to explore the world. She was the most well behaved baby. I could take her anywhere. If it was naptime and we were at the mall, she would lie down in her stroller and take her nap. Noise didnt bother her, she just slept. She went to restaurants, art galleries, movies, everywhere and didnt ever cause a ruckus...she was peaceful. I loved dressing her up. She had the coolest clothes thanks to her grandmother and aunt janice who loved to visit Rochelles and buy the cutest things at the biggest bargains. She and I took infant swimming at the Y when she was just 3 months old..and she was a little fish. She loved her days with Aunt Lenore while I went to college and loved her weekends..every other weekend alternating with her grandparents so I could work. She smiled and laughed with my room mate Jane. (Jane was a godsend that year Rich was away and I was still in Massachusetts trying to finish college)
When Bekah had just turned a year old we moved to Georgia. Her life changed, and she changed in subtle ways. The first year of her life had been full of constant love and attention from so many people all the time. Suddenly it was just me and her Dad. The army doesnt have a forgiving schedule and Rich worked all the time. I was alone in the apartment with Bekah. We got a routine going. We would mousercize first thing in the morning, then have our breakfast, then sesame street and fraggles, then reading time, then free play time while i picked up, then Eureka's Castle which led us into lunch, then nap time while i cleaned the house from end to end, stripped beds, bleached, washed sheets, dusted, and vacuumed the carpet in three directions ....the whole house..every day. In the afternoon we would go to the pool, and read, and often in the late afternoon Rich's army buddies would come by...even thought Rich was at work...to see what I was making for dinner. We had dinner company almost every night on a grocery budget of only $100! After dinner there was always a bath, and a book and bedtime. A routine, the same thing day after day after day. I had read that routine was important, and I was determined to do the right thing with this awesome responsibility I had been given.

Money was tight, so I started watching other children at the house. The routine helped, we just eased each new kid into the routine with us. At one point I was watching six children in a small apartment ranging from newborn to 2 years old. Still cleaning the apartment every day and cooking for Rich and his friends. Still trying to give Bekah all the love and attention she deserved. I was lonely, but I loved being a Mom more than anything. On Rich's days off we would go to the park and throw balls, and swing and picnic. We couldnt afford anything else, but we always went out on those days. I remember our outings to Chuck E Cheese where Rich and I and Bekah would split one salad bar and a basket of breadsticks and call that our splurge because it was all we could afford. What we were really affording on those excursions was the fun of watching Bekah play in the ball pit with the other kids, and watch the animatronic show. She loved it, and we loved watching her love it.

Then I discovered I was pregnant and things were tense for a bit. There was no way we were going to be able to afford two children in diapers, we were barely making it with one. I doubled my efforts to potty train Bekah and luckily she potty trained very easily and when Laura was born when Bekah was fifteen months old, Bekah was already potty trained. The pregnancy wasnt easy. There were complications. I was on bed rest and only allowed to get up to go to the bathroom. We set up the sleeper sofa and that was my home. I tried to stay to the routine as much as possible, but Bekah got more tv time than I would have liked because I couldnt get up to take her anywhere. The house was not clean, the company no longer came for dinner since I couldnt get up to cook, Rich still worked long hours - he was working two jobs - and I was so lonely and trapped in a sofa bed for over a month. Bekah was starting to be independent, but thankfully the terrible two's had not hit - yet.

Laura was born, two and a half months early. I woke up one morning and got up to go to the bathroom and there was a sea of blood. In the most horrible day ever...Rich got somebody to watch Bekah and raced me to Martin Army Hospital on Ft Benning where the idiots put me in a room for six hours and wouldnt do anything. I wasnt bleeding anymore. They had lost my ultrasound results ...I had been hospitalized for bleeding once already prior to being put on bed rest...and had weekly ultrasounds. Suddenly the records were gone and the Dr was trying to claim that I was full term based on my stomach measurements and that we needed to just let things progress naturally. Rich was beside himself and went home collecting up a portion of the 'evidence' of the blood flood of the morning. Finally after 6 hours of complete incompetence the Dr sent me by ambulance to the medical center where there was a neonatal icu. In that late hour decision they saved my life and Lauras. When I got to the medical center the doctor ordered an immediate ultrasound and they were alarmed. The placenta had separated from the uterus, the baby was breech and things were dire. They rushed me into emergency surgery. They put me under, no time for an epideural or a spinal or other fancy birth options..this was a life or death situation. They put me under...but not enough. I couldnt move, but I felt every single cut and was paralyzed so I couldnt let anybody know the pain I was in. Blessedly at some point in the surgery I 'went under' and from that point didnt know anything that went on until the recovery room when a nurse told me I had given birth to a son. As they rolled me out of the recovery room to the room I would be in for almost a week Rich told me that we had a daughter. I was really confused. I asked to see my baby and they explained that I couldnt, that she was in neonatal icu and that I couldnt go there because of my own medical condition. I got out of bed and started to take out the IV's etc...I told them I WAS going to see my baby. It didnt take long for them to acquiesce and get me a wheelchair and take me to the neonatal icu. She was so tiny. She was so fragile, still covered in blood because they didnt dare lower her temperature to clean her off...she had tubes going into her all over and monitors and she was in a full incubator without any way to touch her. They explained that she had been dead at birth, but that they had revived her. They also explained that the odds of her survival were only 50/50. I sat there, just letting her grasp my pinky finger for as many hours as they would let me stay. I talked to her, I sang to her. I couldnt hold her, or feed her, or change her...but I was determined to let her know that her Mommy loved her. Thrive she did, at a rate that surprised the neonatal staff. I was there for every feeding they allowed, determined that I wanted to be there as often as I could when she was taken from that incubator to be held. As much as possible it would be me holding her and caring for her, not some stranger. They do not like to let preemies go until they reach 5 lbs, but they let Laura come home when she hit 4 lbs. They said they werent worried about her care since I had been there doing all of her care anyway. She was so tiny when we brought her home. I had to make a surround for the carseat so she wouldnt fall over. (at that time, you couldnt buy such things, now everybody has them for newborns) She couldnt wear even preemie clothing - everything was too big. My mother asked her students for cabbage patch doll clothes, and she shipped them to me. They fix my little laura doll. She was very cute in her doll clothes. Her entire head fit in the palm of my hand and I have never felt so protective of anyone in my entire life as I felt of my precious little baby girl. My mother would tell you that I held on to that protective feeling far too long and babied Laura, I would tell you that whatever I did was just right because she turned out to be an amazing woman.

The first month she was home from the hospital was incredibly difficult for me. Laura had to eat every two hours, and they said she had to take at least an ounce. It took an hour to coerce her to take an ounce. So...all night long...I had to set an alarm every two hours and be awake for an hour to feed, then try to sleep an hour before repeating. This might be fine, but Bekah was 15 months old and I could not sleep during the day. Rich would have helped, but he was working two jobs to try to make ends meet and he was seldom home. All day long I had to spend those non feeding hours making sure Bekah didnt feel usurped by her new sister and that our routine would be very much like it had been instead of catching those naps I craved. It was a crazy hard time of my life...but I had two beautiful girls to show for it. I wouldnt trade it for anything.

We moved onto post quarters not too long after Laura was born. Having a second child bumped us closer to the top of the list. It was SO nice to have the house to ourself. Our house, no room mate to help with the expenses. A home for my family with three bedrooms two baths, kitchen, dining room, living room and a small backyard. There was a playground down the street that I could walk to...and my neighbor was incredibly wonderful and friendly and fell in love with Bekah right away. She had a swing in her front yard, and she and Bekah would sit and swing and talk and talk and talk. We didnt have a lot of money, but with what we did have I decorated our little house so that it would be a home Rich could be proud of. Finally we could have company again, and not just Rich's army buddies, we had a spare room so we could have our friends from home come visit and stay. Scott Libby came, and Jane Norton, and Donna Bouchard....we had a really good time. It was nice to have a home. One of Jeff's buddies was getting married so we hosted the reception in our quarters and I did all of the cooking for it. Jeff's new wife Amy and I became great friends. Bekah hit the terrible twos, and suddenly my incredibly peaceful little girl became a little beast. She had tantrums the likes of which I thought would cause her to injure herself. I was baffled, totally baffled. I did not understand why my sweet girl had gone Linda Blair on me. I went back to the baby books to read what to do for tantrums. I targeted on one solution.....hold her, hold her tight and tell her over and over that you love her while she thrashes and screams and wails. I did that. Omg she hated it. So....when she was about to tantrum she would look at me and pee...knowing that I wasnt going to hold her if she was pee soaked. It was a horrible time. She was also rather precocious. At two years old she would tell me "Mother, do not wear those shoes they dont match". They probably didnt. I sure wasnt spending what little money we had on clothes for me. Everything went to our girls. Between their grandparents, great aunts and us..they had everything any child could dream of. Rich was working animal control for the army at this time, so he brought home twin black cocker spaniels we named 'Danny' and 'Danielle' They were so cute and I had been wanting pets so badly.


to be continued.....

24 years and counting

This weekend is Rich and my anniversary. 24 years as husband and wife. Two dozen years....more than half my life.

We have faught, laughed, cried, done foolish things, hurtful things, loving things....we have had adventures and quiet nights in front of the fire....we have walked hand in hand on the beach...and swam hand in hand in the bluest waters of the caribbean. We have forgiven one another. We have disliked one another. We have resented one another. but more.....We committed to one another and neither of us was willing to give up on that committment we made to each other for better or worse. As a result something deep and abiding has grown. Our relationship is a rock, it is strong, it has weathered and can weather any storm, and no matter what comes our way...that rock is strong because it is us together.

24 years. I remember the words of 'our song' ...the one we danced to at our wedding...

~you know our love was meant to be the kind of love to last forever
and i want you here with me...from tonight until the end of time
you should know..everywhere i go...you are always in my mind, in my heart, in my soul baby..
you are the meaning in my life, you're the inspiration
you bring feeling to my life, you're the inspiration
want to have you near me
want to have you hear me saying
no one needs you more than i need you.

So true still today - Every word of it.

I love you Rich...yesterday, today, and always.....

Feeling Like a Hamster on a wheel

The start of school is always insane with business. This year is even worse.

I am teaching five different classes, each with a completely different curriculum. There are no textbooks from which to form the curriculum so I am writing it as I go. Talk about time consuming! I love writing curricula...I love the creative process of figuring out how to engage the minds of students and instead of forcing them to learn, them loving the learning. I love the trial and error of figuring out what works and what doesnt and tweaking and adjusting. I love doing this...but there just arent enough hours in the day!

My legs hurt...my feet hurt...my brain is weary and I am trying to readjust to the constant noise noise noise noise.

I think that the quiet is my favorite part of summer.

And of course, it isnt just school...auditions at the community theatre...which I love. Getting ready for auditions at school. Trying to make sure Rich feels important and loved. Trying to find time to make time for my friends.

I feel like a hamster on a wheel...I love running the wheel or I would get off...but while I am running...I just keep looking ahead and seeing no end in sight...just more running and running and running and running.....

First Day of School

The First Day of School was always as exciting as Christmas Morning to me. I have always loved school. I love new folders and new school supplies. I always loved the new clothes - that perfect brand new first day outfit.

I still love those things. I may well have become a teacher just so i could re-live the excitement of having a 'first day of school' every year for ...well...too many more years to count!

I also love teaching. I just really love it. I love getting to know new students. I love the energy of a classroom. I love that minute when you KNOW you have their interest and they are involved in learning. I love the reparte between the kids and between them and me. I love everything about teaching except that It starts too early in the morning.

Today my daughter came to school with me. I loved that too, because I love her. I dont get to spend enough time with her and really enjoyed catching up with her during my planning time and sharing my first day happiness with her. She was helpful, she copied papers for me!

I miss my family being together. I miss them getting along. I miss that cohesive unit we used to be. I was ok with empty nesting when everyone was happy with one another...but when I dont feel like, even apart, we are a circle of love and support I just get sad. Particularly now ....losing Mom and losing Meme I realize even more poignantly how important it is to hold on to and cherish and value every moment with the people I love. I feel sad that my family isnt that way right now. I dont understand any idea or ideal that can come before the love of family. I just dont.

anyway...cant talk about this anymore...making me too sad and ruining my First Day Buzz

Work, Blog or Sleep?

Back to work after summer is always exhausting. Even before the students arrive, just getting up in the morning again is exhausting. I had been doing such a fine job of blogging, but my couch and sleep have called ...loudly...and i have answered the call with clicker in hand and pillow beneath my head for several nights now.

So......The past couple of days have been frustrating. I was so excited about having several classrooms...until I had to set up several classrooms! Oh my Jeez! I had trouble keeping up with one, nevermind 3!!! I am going to love my new little computer lab space. It is already starting to feel homey. I already love my big cavernous dungeon rehearsal room, and well...honestly I havent done a thing to the broadcast room yet!

So.....I finish getting dressed this morning for the big county wide school roll out extravaganza...and I hear my phone make the wonderful 'you have a text msg' sound. I dash to the phone, wondering which of the students is going to miss our performance at said extravaganza only to see a text from my principal informing me that I am going to have to speak at the extravaganza, in front of all of the faculty, staff , administrators, central office, school board from my entire school system. I text her back "what??????" I bet she waited until this morning to tell me because she didnt want me to have time to figure out how to get out of it. I hate public speaking. It makes me rather nauseated to be honest. I went to complain to my darlin husband, and he was busy with mafia wars and just told me to get over it, that I was the district teacher of the year and I could say a few words. Some loving sympathetic spouse..sheeesh. So I managed to say a few words...very few..the last words I spoke were "and now lets see the kids perform, they are much more fun to watch than me looking uncomfortable at this podium" ...and I scooted to the back fast and let the kids perform. They speak for me so much better than I do anyway! I dont like attention that way, I really dont. I get nervous and uncomfortable. I was secretly celebrating today being the last time I am going to have to be introduced as 'Teacher of the Year, top ten..etc" It has been so validating, but so ...humbling. I feel like the other teachers must be so tired of hearing my name! The kids performed great...lots of compliments about their performance.

Back to my new classroom and the frustration of cooling my jets and waiting on somebody else's timetable for completion. I dont do well with being on hold, not at all. Finally my computers were set up though...now I just have to wait for my projector and speakers, etc to be put in!

I am looking forward to tomorrow. The first day of school is always exciting. Such amazing energy to it both from me and the students. Forging ahead to new group dynamics and projects and every day waking up with one desire - to inspire kids to love themselves and to love learning.

Time for bed...or i wont be so excited..I will be tired. Oh! Happy happy my bekah is coming to visit me tomorrow at school. I miss my girls so much, I am so glad she is coming to see me.

Home and Priorities....

I love my house. To me it is comfort and warmth and peace and...well...it is home. I havent spent much time here this summer. Dont get me wrong, I am not complaining. I have done so many fun things this summer, seen things I always wanted to see, done things I always wanted to do...relaxed at the beach which always revitalizes me. I have, however, missed my house. I have missed my oversized chair in the corner of the living room that fits me and both dogs comfortably. I have missed my own kitchen to cook in, and the spices and other kinds of things I have at my fingertips to cook with at home. I have missed my princess bed, there is nothing on earth as comfortable as that bed. I have missed the relaxed easiness of just being home.

I love a clean, neat house...and it was so nice to walk in last night and be able to crawl into bed without worrying about picking up. One of the benefits of empty nesting is that Rich and I are able to keep the house the way we want it all the time. We washed our clothes before leaving the beach...so even the laundry is done. Just a few things to put away.... and summer is officially over.

As I look ahead to the upcoming year I am trying to focus on my priorities. I think Rich has felt like he comes behind work on my priority ladder. I am determined for him not to continue feeling this way. I do love my job though, and am exciting about upcoming productions at school and at the Community Theatre. I guess the key is finding balance...where I am speaking Rich's love language in the time we have together so he never forgets that always in my heart and mind he comes first on my priority list - no matter how busy life gets!

Speaking of busy...I need to finish up lesson plans for my new curriculum!

Connectivity

We live in such a tech heavy world.....connectivity becomes an issue on so many levels. I found myself frustrated beyond what was reasonable this morning because I couldnt log in to the internet while away from home. I wanted to blog. I wanted to check my facebook. I wanted to check my e-mail. I wanted the infinite resources of the internet to help me with lesson plans while I was stuck indoors on a rainy day at the beach.

Sometimes I think this connectivity is such an issue. Take my daughter Bekah...she is all connected, her phone connects her 24/7, yet...is she connected with people? She doesnt answer my phone calls, or her sisters lots of times, or her Dads. Do we use this connectivity to connect to people...or is it just for the sake of having connections we dont have to get personal with except on our own terms.

I just have to shake my head at my frustration, then had to think...I was sitting in the room with the love of my life and frustrated because i couldnt blog???? How ridiculous is that. How ridiculous are we all with our connectivity addictions!

the Pumping Station

This has been a year of loss for my family that began with the loss of my Meme. She died last spring, although we really lost her years before when she lost touch with reality and started living in her own mind.

Meme was my touchstone person. She always loved me. I was the first grandchild and the only grandchild for 5 years until my brother was born. For a woman who loved children I supect I was the best thing since sliced bread. She could love me and enjoy me but she wasnt responsible for me! I remember the smells of meme's house from my childhood...the wood stove, baking apple pies, and simmering meat fat from roasts. I never remember a day I spent with her where she didnt make me believe I was the most important person in her universe. She loved me, but she liked me...she always liked me. (or if she didnt, she never let on...which was fine with me)

My very very favorite childhood memories involve my Meme and the old pumping station. Most days we would take a bag of day old bread and my meme would take my hand and we would walk, swinging our arms between us...talking about sunshine and singing songs...so many songs...with meme it was always about singing. I think she is the reason i love music and singing so much. We would get into the woods and look for lady's slippers. I think they were my meme's favorite....we hunted for them...as rare as they are...all the time. While we walked we would pick up flat stones and round stones and and end up with a pocket of stones. We would reach water's edge......and try to skip stones, and throw them......looking at the different ripples in the water and laughing and singing. Then...would come the ducks...and we would feed them the leftover bread. I was convinced those ducks were my best friends. Ah the innocence of youth!

How life has changed. We dont take delight in such small outings anymore. Talking and walking and singing and laughing and throwing stones and feeding ducks would not rate as a 'thing to do', yet for me...those walks to the Pumping Station were what I looked forward to every day. They are what I miss. Those moments of being connected with my Meme, really spending time with her, enjoying her company and her enjoying mine. Fresh air, wonderful company, and the beauty of nature were all we needed to spend a perfect day.

Meme moved away from the pumping station, but her next house was right on the cove at lake pearl. Swimming and fishing and crawfishing, and frogging. Out in the boat, reading on the porch. Different smells...the smell of the shore at a fresh water lake mingling with the scent of pies and cakes and roasts. Family and the gathering of aunts and their husbands and children in that little house on the lake every sunday after church. Sneaking in to grab the crispy highly salted fat pieces from the roast before it was carved. Hors D'euvres......pinapple cream cheese spread and crackers, shrimp scampi, oysters rockefeller, always such deliciousness at Meme's house. Food equated love. Food was how meme showed us all that she loved us. And we ate and ate and ate to show her how much we appreciated her gift!

I remember going up to meme's room after dinner....smelling the tabu and chantilly....using her avon samples to put on make up...pretending I was her. She always made me feel so safe and loved and happy - everything about her made me feel that way. From her I got my love of music, my love of books, my love of soap operas! She always told me that I had to marry a chinaman and perform on Broadway. Well....I married Rich and he SO isnt a Chinaman, and I have performed on Broadway in Columbus Georgia, but I am certain it was not the Broadway she meant. She wouldnt have been disappointed though. She was always proud of my accomplishments big and small. When I had struggles with Mom, meme would wrap me in her arms and listen and hug me and give me advice how to make it better. She was my only childhood confidante.

Zoos...I will always love the zoo because of Meme. Another frequent outing to see Fanny the elephant at Slater Park. Feeding ole Fanny apple pieces and peanuts and carrots. I was convinced that Fanny thought I was her friend too. So many of my life's pleasures have their foundation in experiences I shared with my meme.

Moving to Georgia....frayed that connection we had that was so strong. I didnt know how to maintain it...nor did she. I stink at letters and phone calls....but my wonderful husband did spend several years making meme smile by being her 'sp' or 'secret pal' and sending her cards and notes on a monthly basis.

I miss her......I miss knowing there is a person in the world who will think I am amazing and marvelous no matter what I do. I miss being with the person who really formed all of the interests and joys and fun memories of my life. I miss her hugs and the smell of tabu...i miss her apple pies. I miss adventures into her Trunk of memories where she would pull out photos and clippings and tell all of the stories behind each one. I miss that...but I have my own trunk of memories and I will take my grandchildren on the same kind of adventure into my life and past when they visit. I will be for my grandchildren what my Meme was for me - a touchstone, a hero, a source of unconditional love.

Parents

They say.....you never really appreciate anything until it is gone.

How sadly true.

I have the best parents. I could not have asked for parents to have loved me more, or supported me more, or celebrated my accomplishments more, or loved my children more, or provided for me better, or demanded more of me. They were the best parents.

Our family came with its own particular brand of dysfunction. You show me a family that isnt dysfunctional in one way or another and I will show you a family of performers and liars. We didnt always like each other. Sometimes not much...sometimes not at all. We ALWAYS loved each other.

My mother and father's marriage and their relationship has been a shining example. A guidebook of how to stay married and stay in love. They faught, but they loved. They REALLY loved.

As professionals my parents were the best teachers in the school. More kids liked them than liked me. I spent a bit of junior high jealous because I was convinced that the kids liked my Mom better than they liked me. I mean....pfffft...I didnt do splits on the chalk tray, what did I have going for me? I tried...they all wanted my help on the physical science lab reports. They thought, because I was an A student in that class, that Mom helped me with them. I finally gave in, let them copy my lab report...unfortunately...I got a D on that one. Mom never helped me. In fact, I dont think she mentioned the word 'science' in the house for the whole year she was my teacher. Other kids got help from their parents but my Mother...so full of integrity...was not going to compromise her integrity to cross the line from teacher to mother. If she was my science teacher, she was not going to be my mom the science helper. Jealousy is a useless feeling, but I was right they did like her better. She was so full of life...full of energy....full of passion for science...passion for kids...passion for teaching. Everything I am as a teacher I owe to watching her. I definitely dont teach science, but I am full of life, and I share her pasion for kids and teaching and only hope I can keep up with the energy! When I get sad, missing her...it just makes me thrust out my chin and be even more determined that I will be her legacy. That some of the best parts of her live on in me. That she is still touching lives through me. That gives me peace.

My Dad.....also just one of those people that inspires. Not like mom....completely different. It is his eyes. They are windows to his soul. You look into Dad's eyes and you can read him....and Whoa to the person who looks in those eyes and sees disappointment. It is like a gut wrenching blow. My students say my eyes do that. That I have...what they call...'the look'. They say that the idea of getting 'the look' can bring them to tears. I wouldnt have any idea what they meant if I hadnt gotten that same 'look' from Dad more times than I can mention. Strangers would talk to Mom, but Dad is like a dear old friend. You dont chatter with him, but when your heart is heavy or you need advice or counsel he is the most peaceful calm, guiding force there is in the universe. Even before he was 'talking for God' he was this way. It is just part of his character. And Intelligent....my fondest memories of childhood were walks in the woods and mountains identifying the different plants, and the types of rocks. I was always looking for information from my Daddy and soaking it up like a sponge.

I was a difficult child. I just am not sure I could have handled one like me. Bless both my parents for surviving it. Precocious and Determined, Independent.... Stubborn. I was reading my baby book last week....and I couldnt even count the number of times Mom's initial reporting was so excited about me being independent about this or that...but later she came back and crossed out independent and wrote STUBBORN and OPINIONATED. I had to be leashed to my bed because i wouldnt stay in it. That should have been a clue right there. I dont imagine many kids need to be leashed and harnessed into their bed at night to keep them..not only in bed, but out of the brook outside, or the neighbors house. They figured out early that they had to keep my mind engaged...and they did. Song after song, book after book...memorization games and mneumonics and all sorts of mental puzzle activities to keep my mind focused on something positive. Then I discovered theatre. I imagine I became like a foreign species living in their house at this point. I sang musicals morning noon and night, I danced in flashdance ripped sweatshirts and lord knows what all else that I know now in retrospect must have looked utterly ridiculous and embarassed them to no end...but at the time I just thought I was being magnificently bohemian. I know that I was a cross for them to bear. They loved me though, and just kept pushing and prodding. Never steering me away from my passions. Both of them told me over and over and over that all they wanted is for me to be happy. For a long time..I didnt believe that. I thought they wanted me to be a happy conformist and I was not subscribing in any way shape or form. They didnt want me to conform, they just didnt ...well...they didnt...hmmm...I was going to say they didnt understand how I thought...but..well...I dont think anybody does! They kept encouraging me to be the best I could be and to strive for happiness.

Even when I married so young. Lord...I will never forget Rich and I making our 'big announcemen t' that we were going to live together and Mom asking questions and us trying to convince her that we were fully committed to one another, we just didnt want to be conventional. She looked at both of us and said "You arent committed unless you commit. If you dont get married you are just telling one another that you arent worth committing to" I suspect....she thought we would reconsider living together. Instead..we left the room and I said to Rich...."lets get married then, in August"....he said "ok" and we went back into the room to tell mom. Her mouth dropped to the floor and she had nothing else to say. She also didnt help much with the planning of the wedding. I think I flummoxed her again. I think she thought I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I think she worried that I was going down the hard road she had travelled by marrying young. Well..it was the hard road, but it was the perfect road for me. I think she admired my Rich a lot...she knew EXACTLY what he had to live with by living with and loving and staying with a nut like me. Regardless of her opinion, she and Dad paid for whatever i wanted in a wedding...they didnt argue or try to talk me out of it. I think they may have prayed a lot that I would change my mind, but they discovered that I was with my life partner. The right one. The man who would love me and who I could love the way they had always loved one another.

I miss my Mother. I miss her so much. Little things arent the same......sharing my good news, sharing the worries, just talking to her about my girls...she always knew what to say to help me have perspective and not 'lose it' with them. When I bought the smallest jeans I have fit into in 25 years my first thought was " i need to call mom!" ...then the sadness when I realized that I wouldnt ever again have her to share my joys and sorrows. I miss our weekly calls..sometimes long..sometimes short...but always the touch stone moment of my life where I felt like I was talking to someone who had no expectations of me but to just BE ME. I know if I miss her this much...my poor Dad must feel it so acutely that I dont know how he breathes. I dont know how to talk to him about it. I dont know how to bring her up or to fill the gap for him. I dont have her easy way about me. I am more like him. Both of us needing more to be needed than to open up and tell somebody we need them. Both of us going silent in our sadness rather than talking it out. I wish I could talk to my Dad the way I talked to Mom. I love him so much and I want so much to just make him smile a bit. Dana will be better for him. Busy Dana will keep him occupied and adventuring and laughing. Dana is, in so many ways, like my Mom.

ok...now I have cried enough and it is time to head to the beach!

Love

When I married Rich 24 years ago I loved him. He made my heart race, and being with him was exciting and made my whole world sparkle.

Then came that phase where you lose that 'in love' feeling and the relationship becomes work. All of those idiosyncrisies you dont notice when you are 'in love' suddenly seem magnified and you look at the person you couldnt live without and you want to change all of those things about them that suddenly drive you nuts. Ok...this person isnt going to change for me, either 1 they dont really love me, or 2 I dont really love them if this is how they REALLY are. Why did they change after we got married? This phase...I call 'the struggle' and it is so easy to quit during this phase. I think it is why the divorce rate is so high.

Next came the acceptance phase where you realize....well...it is the same person and they havent changed at all....it is just that the rose colored glasses of that aphrodesiac of being 'in love' wore off and you saw them.....as they truly are... for the first time. You realize you cant change them, so you take a deep breath and accept their faults and love them for who they REALLY are, despite them. If you have children, this is also the phase where you look at each other wide eyed and wonder if you will ever have a moment to just love and enjoy one another ever again. It feels like all of the feelings and energy go to the kids and there is little left for each other. I remember saying to myself "if we can only survive until they get old enough not to need a babysitter we will be ok."

The next phase I call 'Dating". The kids are now old enough to stay alone and we could go out and do things just us. We had 'date night'. I remember Bekah asking "how come the two of you get to go out and do something together every wednesday without us?" and my reply "Bekah, one day you and Laura will grow up and move out and have lives of your own and it would be really nice if your Dad and I still had a relationship with each other. He is my future Bek, he is my forever and I am going to make time to make sure we still have a relationship to share in our forever. So, we are going to have date night" And we did...every wednesday. Sometimes it was just a walk on the riverwalk where we held hands and talked about something, anything but the kids. Sometimes a movie. In fact, we saw lots of movies during this time in our marriage. Sometimes we parked the truck under the stars and laid in the bed and just took in the magnificence of the universe. It didnt matter what we did, it mattered that we learned to talk ...not just about the kids...but to each other. I was determined that we werent going to grow old and be one of those couples who stared at each other with nothing to say.

I call the next phase 'Accomplishment'. Work takes priority and work takes time. I know Rich particularly was patient (is still patient) during my accomplishment period. We accomplished the parenting thing....the girls graduating from high school and one from college. We could look at each other and say "we did it, we raised them and look...they are independent and lovely, and good people. We did good" My work, particularly last year, was all about accomplishment and seeing such unexpected rewards for my work. Seeing the difference I made in the lives of young people. Accomplishment is a good phase, particularly when you have a spouse like mine who is always encouraging and supportive and so very very proud of everything I do. His pride means more to me than I ever will be able to say. That he cares enough about me to celebrate my accomplishments with me, to really enjoy the good feeling of having accomplished them with me by being my support system. That means a lot. He has always been my rock. I have always been prone to living inside of my imagination. In fact, since being a little girl my imagination has always been my favorite destination. I am not good with life's practicalities. Thats one of the things I learned vividly during the 'struggle' phase. Rich is not prone to imaginative bents, but...he is so practical and logical and solid that if i let him guide me in all of the areas requiring practical, logical, sound reasoned decisions, then I would be free to spend more time in my imaginative pursuits without being so stressed about the details of life. In the struggle phase I wanted him to get an imagination and just loosen up and have fun. I discovered in the acceptance phase that if i let him take charge of all of the basics in our life, he actually feels comfortable enough to play and have fun. So...he is in charge. I love him being in charge. It has bonded us because it required a rather strong level of trust. I dont ask about the bills being paid, etc...i just ask if I can spend money. I trust that he is handling the bills and that he will allow me a purchase if there is money enough for me to spend on one. He loves being trusted and taking care of me. It fills a need of his. So.....we have found the perfect arrangement - one that brings us closer. I found myself looking at him with new eyes yet again when my mother died. I cried - a lot. Still cry a lot sometimes. He never tried to get me to stop crying like most people do when the person they love is sad. He never gave me a bunch of platitudes about how it would be better soon. He just loved me. He would wrap his arms around me, rub my back, stroke my hair...and whisper in my ear "just cry love, just cry...cry as much and as long as you need and I will stay right here and hold you". And he did....and out of grief so deep I just felt hurt all the time...I found love. My Rich really loves me...and I really love him.


Another level of this journey of 24 years. The Languages of Love. During our trip this summer we listened to my kindle and the car stereo read the book 'The 5 languages of Love'. It was the most enlightening relationship book I have ever read. I suggest it to anyone. It doesnt point fingers about what you should or shouldnt do in your relationships. It helps identify something rather basic - the love language each of us speaks. How...we can love someone and try to show them every day, but if you arent speaking their love language they wont know that you are trying to love them. Rich and I do not speak the same love language. I require quality time and quality communication in order to feel loved. His love language is service. He feels loved if i am doing things for him , or around the house that he wants done. It was eye-opening. We had, through hit or miss desperation in trying to have a good relationship, tried to show one another love in so many different ways that we occassionally hit on the other's language, but it is much better even just a few weeks after reading the book. It takes no guess work, and no wasted frustrated energy in trying to show the other ...now we speak one another's language and with less effort and more results we show one another love every day.

Another phase in our relationship of 25 years.

I dont know what the future holds for us..but I know that my future is with Rich. He is my past, my present and my future. He is the best part of my life. He isnt perfect, neither am I....but we are perfect FOR each other.

I love you Rich, so very much. Thank you for showing me every day.....

Blogging..

I always thought blogging was stupid and said I would never put my life and thoughts out there on the internet for just anybody and everybody to read. Blogging my trip changed my mind. It was comforting to reflect about my day. It gave perspective and appreciation for all of the good things in my life. I know that everyday of life wont be quite that positive as a few weeks on vacation, but the value of reflection and the gaining of perspective and appreciation are things I need more of.

So...my first blog is about friendship.
Friends come and friends go....that doesnt mean the friendship goes away, but life gets so busy that it is hard to find time to spend with friends. I have so many friends and they mean so much to me, but I am not the best friend...time is not something I have lots of...and I am sure my friends feel like I dont care about them the way I should.

That said...i spent last weekend with two ladies who i consider wonderful friends. Both of them came into my life as parent volunteers in my drama program. They were just being the best kind of mamas to their kids and becoming involved. Both of them went above and beyond and as we spent time together working with productions we became friendly, and overtime both of them became people I was just super comfortable with. I never had to be 'the teacher'. I was open with my failings with both of these women and told them I needed help..and both of them stepped in to fill the gaps. What I lack in organization, Cindy has and she has brought organization to the entire parent communication machine of my drama program both at school and the community theatre. What I lack in time, Stacey has offered. She has sat at rehearsal after rehearsal to be a second set of eyes...so that I could focus my attention on directing the play and she would focus her attention on watching the kids who werent on stage. She has taken pictures, cleaned my classroom - lots of times.... copied papers and painted props, sets, whatever i needed. Stacey has given me the gift of her time.

This past weekend I felt like I could spend time with them without asking for something from them. We had such fun together. It was relaxed, easy...lots of laughs, lots of tears, lots of just plain fun. There was never an awkward moment. We enjoyed lots of good meals, one I cooked and then The Melting Pot and PF Changs, we went out and listened to live music and laughed and laughed and laughed as the dueling piano players turned commedien from time to time. We spent hours baking and reading and listening to music on the beach, we poked at shops, we went to the movies (cried at the movies), I napped hehehehe...I love my summertime naps, and we all three got tattoos.

I feel so blessed to have had their help for so many years and now...I feel even more blessed to consider them my friends. Life is indeed good!