You naughty little minx. You got away from me. November –you weren’t any better. Before I knew it, my husband and I were doing toiling in the kitchen for two – yes two thanksgivings -at our home. All turned out beautifully- good food, enjoying our new niece. Visiting with Matt’s dad’s side.
Then December came – and now almost went. Every weekend filled with something to do.
First of all and most important G turned 11.
Heavens! To be stuck in a world between being a kid and a teenager. Can you smell the awkwardness? Things are just happening too fast with him- for instance. He announced to me the other day that he knows Santa’s a “fake”. I don’t think I reacted the way he thought though. I told him it’s too bad he doesn’t believe anymore – because I’m 35 and I still believe.
He rolled his eyes. Typical. I get that a lot.
Unfortunately I got the darn stomach flu on his birthday- How could I? SO that was a little snafu. I thought I had a really bad hangover from a wine tasting event- turns out Instead of the wine flu I had the stomach flu.
No one believes me though.
The next weekend was my new little Niece’s baptism and the snowstorm of a lifetime. Crazy weather but a nice home cooked ham and party for her at my house. I’m not gracing you with any pictures because I look and feel like a big fat ham. Just say’n.
The next weekend I had my co -workers over for a Christmas party. How can you not have fun when drinking and gambling are involved? It’s just physically not possible. I am pleased with myself too, I did not get loaded and tell my boss what a great employee I am.
I’m sure he appreciates that as well.
Last Sunday was the Christmas pageant at church. Does anyone still call it a pageant? Yes..me I guess..
G was the narrator who remained calm and cool until the day for the pag-er Christmas program. Then he launched into full nervous nelly mode and we were unable to talk to him until the Christmas Program was over. He did a really swell job though; I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder.
I tried to get M involved in the Christmas program since he is a singer and dancer extraordinaire-(he gets that from the Chief), but alas it was a social situation that was difficult for him to handle. I was very bummed at this because to me it feels like a rite of passage but this isn’t about me it’s about him.
And there’s always next year.
This weekend –Christmas.
It’s still my favorite part of the year. I still get giddy going to my parents house on Christmas. The anticipation of family, fun and presents are the most exciting thing. I hope my kids feel this way even when they are ancient like me.
Happy Holidays to you and yours-
Peace out-
Dec 20, 2010
Nov 1, 2010
Meanwhile back at the ranch..
Hey.
You don’t even want to know what crazy thoughts have been running through my head just to get something up to post.
Ridiculous, I know.
I was thinking back in October how cool it could be to post EVERYDAY. I was going to call it Shocktober and everything. Get it- ? It would be shocking for me to post every day.
Crickets.
Well as you can see it didn’t happen. Not that I didn’t think of you. Because I did often. Then I just poured a glass of wine and moved on.
Not too much new here, G is wild. He is doing better in school though so that’s good. He takes it as a personal insult when I ask him how it’s going. Luckily they have this online program where you can track their grades to see how they are doing. This is good and bad – because now you can see if the book report that you worked really hard on even got turned in.
He will be 11 soon and while most of the time I don’t recognize him anymore, once in a while I will get a flash of a baby with red curls and a good disposition.
M is a trooper. Random people show up at our house on a daily basis and make him perform for them like a circus act and while he loves the attention mostly I can’t help but wonder what life will be like post therapy. Sometimes, when I am home and therapy is downstairs I hear him crying. This breaks my heart. I know they are pushing him to learn things ...things that should come natural to him- that come natural for you and me but not for him. I stop what I am doing and listen closely. No they are not abusing him they are just pushing. And he’s tired. We all know being mentally strained can be just as exhausting as physical strain.
So then I feel like shit. Then I get mad at the powers that be. But hey theres a plan right? So I pour a glass of wine and move on.
Right now its his speech that needs to catch up. We are constantly repeating, annunciating and reminding.
There are good things though, he joined swimming lessons and he loved it. I teetered between the special needs class and regular lessons. So glad I went with the regular, he did wonderful; he had so much fun with his class and passed the course ready to take the next level.
I am not thinking about the rest and am celebrating good grades, and swimming lesson advancement.
And then I think I will have a glass of wine and move on.
You don’t even want to know what crazy thoughts have been running through my head just to get something up to post.
Ridiculous, I know.
I was thinking back in October how cool it could be to post EVERYDAY. I was going to call it Shocktober and everything. Get it- ? It would be shocking for me to post every day.
Crickets.
Well as you can see it didn’t happen. Not that I didn’t think of you. Because I did often. Then I just poured a glass of wine and moved on.
Not too much new here, G is wild. He is doing better in school though so that’s good. He takes it as a personal insult when I ask him how it’s going. Luckily they have this online program where you can track their grades to see how they are doing. This is good and bad – because now you can see if the book report that you worked really hard on even got turned in.
He will be 11 soon and while most of the time I don’t recognize him anymore, once in a while I will get a flash of a baby with red curls and a good disposition.
M is a trooper. Random people show up at our house on a daily basis and make him perform for them like a circus act and while he loves the attention mostly I can’t help but wonder what life will be like post therapy. Sometimes, when I am home and therapy is downstairs I hear him crying. This breaks my heart. I know they are pushing him to learn things ...things that should come natural to him- that come natural for you and me but not for him. I stop what I am doing and listen closely. No they are not abusing him they are just pushing. And he’s tired. We all know being mentally strained can be just as exhausting as physical strain.
So then I feel like shit. Then I get mad at the powers that be. But hey theres a plan right? So I pour a glass of wine and move on.
Right now its his speech that needs to catch up. We are constantly repeating, annunciating and reminding.
There are good things though, he joined swimming lessons and he loved it. I teetered between the special needs class and regular lessons. So glad I went with the regular, he did wonderful; he had so much fun with his class and passed the course ready to take the next level.
I am not thinking about the rest and am celebrating good grades, and swimming lesson advancement.
And then I think I will have a glass of wine and move on.
Oct 8, 2010
How did it happen?
Little steps here and there… I guess.
Stretch marks on my inner thighs from yo-yo dieting. Also, now on the inside of my knees. No one carding me anymore. A certain haircut I’m told that makes me “look younger”, or “older”. A child. More Stretch marks on my hips and tummy. Working harder and longer to burn calories. Cellulite. Someone guessing my age, getting it wrong. They never guess younger. A little arthritis in my right knee. Sometimes when it rains it acts up a little. Heartburn. Fuller pregnant breasts then deflated breasts. Crow’s feet found one morning. Another baby. I can’t recall your name and I should know it. Circles under my eyes-lack of sleep, never catching up. Back is sore after a long day on my feet. In bed by 9. Grumpy when people call past 9:30. Where are my glasses? Up at night thinking about work or bills. Rolling my eyes at younger peoples juvenile remarks.
I went to bed 34 & woke up 35. Wondering how it happened.
Aging.
They say age isn’t a number its how you feel. I think that’s true, but it’s also how you look. And how you perceive yourself to look is connected to how you feel. You dig?
Sometimes I feel like a kid. I go back and picture myself as 12 year old Jo or 16 year old Jo. And I feel like the same person. But when I move stiffly and get up in the morning, go pee, rub my eyes carefully study myself in the mirror while brushing my teeth, I look different.
Am I still the same person?
It’s not all bad though. I smoked and drank my way through my twenties, ate what I wanted to and hardly exercised. It is the opposite now. So I think in my thirties, I feel better. I might even look better. But I know I look different.
It sounds cliché but it did sneak up on me. Damn thing tapped me on the shoulder and when I spun around it smacked me in the face.
Of course, it probably didn’t sneak up on me except that my hearing is not as sharp as it used to be.
My point is- next time I won’t turn around for the sucker punch.
I’ll keep looking and walking forward.
Stretch marks on my inner thighs from yo-yo dieting. Also, now on the inside of my knees. No one carding me anymore. A certain haircut I’m told that makes me “look younger”, or “older”. A child. More Stretch marks on my hips and tummy. Working harder and longer to burn calories. Cellulite. Someone guessing my age, getting it wrong. They never guess younger. A little arthritis in my right knee. Sometimes when it rains it acts up a little. Heartburn. Fuller pregnant breasts then deflated breasts. Crow’s feet found one morning. Another baby. I can’t recall your name and I should know it. Circles under my eyes-lack of sleep, never catching up. Back is sore after a long day on my feet. In bed by 9. Grumpy when people call past 9:30. Where are my glasses? Up at night thinking about work or bills. Rolling my eyes at younger peoples juvenile remarks.
I went to bed 34 & woke up 35. Wondering how it happened.
Aging.
They say age isn’t a number its how you feel. I think that’s true, but it’s also how you look. And how you perceive yourself to look is connected to how you feel. You dig?
Sometimes I feel like a kid. I go back and picture myself as 12 year old Jo or 16 year old Jo. And I feel like the same person. But when I move stiffly and get up in the morning, go pee, rub my eyes carefully study myself in the mirror while brushing my teeth, I look different.
Am I still the same person?
It’s not all bad though. I smoked and drank my way through my twenties, ate what I wanted to and hardly exercised. It is the opposite now. So I think in my thirties, I feel better. I might even look better. But I know I look different.
It sounds cliché but it did sneak up on me. Damn thing tapped me on the shoulder and when I spun around it smacked me in the face.
Of course, it probably didn’t sneak up on me except that my hearing is not as sharp as it used to be.
My point is- next time I won’t turn around for the sucker punch.
I’ll keep looking and walking forward.
Sep 16, 2010
Enough is Enough
I’m back and (just like Bruce Willis on Die Hard)..With a vengeance..
or was that Lethal Weapon? Who cares? I’m a blogger. I’m going to blog. There will be blogging.
There will be so much blogging that Susan Powder will come back from TV commercial archives and shout, “Stop the Blogging!!!”
Not funny?
I agree.
Let me catch you up. When you last saw Jolene she was complimenting her husband and cursing a side project that went south in hurry. Someday I’ll tell you about it when you are older. She was complaining about her first born, and had questionable underwear.
Nothing much has changed.
My family went on vacation to a cabin at a fishing resort. We rented a cabin for a week. It was my folks, my family and my brother and sister in law. It was fun. We learned many things.
Like maybe we should not vacation together.
We had some good times though.
G started 5th grade. We also joined a local swim club. 5th grade this year is at the middle school.
I think he is having a hard time adjusting. Socially, I think he has no idea where he fits in. The teacher has already called to discuss his behavior.
One of the hardest things for parents to deal with (besides a medical diagnosis that knocks you off your feet) is getting the call or email.
“Dear So and So Crappy Parent-
I can’t handle your kid. He obviously has some sort of issues. Do you have issues? Did you pass them on? Is he on meds? Does he have ADHD? He is? He does? Oh good. Glad you told me- now I can single him out and watch him like a hawk. I’ll be sure to let you know every time he steps out of line. We need to make our job easier by labeling him and letting him and you know he is different.”
Signed,
Your son’s caring teacher.
Ok… I’m upset so I’m making this worse than usual. Last year his teachers were awesome because they didn’t focus on his ADHD but rather…him. What a concept.
So tonight I will play good cop/bad cop and shower him with love but be firm in telling him that ADHD is something he has but does not define who he is.
And then I will go to bed hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.
or was that Lethal Weapon? Who cares? I’m a blogger. I’m going to blog. There will be blogging.
There will be so much blogging that Susan Powder will come back from TV commercial archives and shout, “Stop the Blogging!!!”
Not funny?
I agree.
Let me catch you up. When you last saw Jolene she was complimenting her husband and cursing a side project that went south in hurry. Someday I’ll tell you about it when you are older. She was complaining about her first born, and had questionable underwear.
Nothing much has changed.
My family went on vacation to a cabin at a fishing resort. We rented a cabin for a week. It was my folks, my family and my brother and sister in law. It was fun. We learned many things.
Like maybe we should not vacation together.
We had some good times though.
G started 5th grade. We also joined a local swim club. 5th grade this year is at the middle school.
I think he is having a hard time adjusting. Socially, I think he has no idea where he fits in. The teacher has already called to discuss his behavior.
One of the hardest things for parents to deal with (besides a medical diagnosis that knocks you off your feet) is getting the call or email.
“Dear So and So Crappy Parent-
I can’t handle your kid. He obviously has some sort of issues. Do you have issues? Did you pass them on? Is he on meds? Does he have ADHD? He is? He does? Oh good. Glad you told me- now I can single him out and watch him like a hawk. I’ll be sure to let you know every time he steps out of line. We need to make our job easier by labeling him and letting him and you know he is different.”
Signed,
Your son’s caring teacher.
Ok… I’m upset so I’m making this worse than usual. Last year his teachers were awesome because they didn’t focus on his ADHD but rather…him. What a concept.
So tonight I will play good cop/bad cop and shower him with love but be firm in telling him that ADHD is something he has but does not define who he is.
And then I will go to bed hoping that tomorrow will be a better day.
Aug 10, 2010
The Big Butt
The other evening as my family was gathered around, enjoying the humidity, the chief cracked a joke.
At my expense.
This was not the first time and probably not the first time that day that he cracked a joke at my expense. Sometimes, I will admit, it is funny. He’ll tell a story and hey if it gets a laugh its fair game.
But the other night, I didn’t think it was funny.
I was tired and crabby and not wanting to be the butt of anyone’s jokes- much less his, so I said to him, after he told his joke about me:
“Really? Really? Was that supposed to be funny?”
“Just what exactly do you bring to the table?”
Everyone laughed as usual and we went on with our humidity fest.
I have been working very hard on a side project that is taking a lot of time/energy and money out of me. I basically hunkered down in front of my computer and growled at him or the kids when they approached me.
So the chief-
At my expense.
This was not the first time and probably not the first time that day that he cracked a joke at my expense. Sometimes, I will admit, it is funny. He’ll tell a story and hey if it gets a laugh its fair game.
But the other night, I didn’t think it was funny.
I was tired and crabby and not wanting to be the butt of anyone’s jokes- much less his, so I said to him, after he told his joke about me:
“Really? Really? Was that supposed to be funny?”
“Just what exactly do you bring to the table?”
Everyone laughed as usual and we went on with our humidity fest.
I have been working very hard on a side project that is taking a lot of time/energy and money out of me. I basically hunkered down in front of my computer and growled at him or the kids when they approached me.
So the chief-
entertained the kids
And he did the laundry (including some of my questionable underwear) (don’t ask)
And he did the dishes
And he cleaned the house
And a few other wonderful things that are too personal to mention. (Get you mind out of the gutter)
Well halfway out of the gutter.
I did not post a tribute to him on father’s day on this blog.
And I think that’s ok because we should acknowledge those we love on days that aren’t marked by a hallmark holiday.
So I am giving him a free Fathers day, because he’s earned it.
And I think I can put up with being the butt of his jokes.
Because I’m pretty sure I know exactly what he brings to the table.
Aug 7, 2010
Structure!
I love summer. Summer loves me. I just know it. I can’t wait to start a summer day, even if I am just getting up to go to work. I love the light, the air, the long days. I have more energy, I am happier. I exercise more. There are so many fun things to do.
But then the end of summer comes. It becomes evidently clear, to me that all good things must come to an end.
G needs structure. Summer must end. I don’t even think he is bathing anymore. The other day- late in the day-as I was having a ”what were you thinking?” conversation with him. I glanced at his teeth.
It looked like he had taken a spatula and flung food at his mouth like a sling shot.
“What is up with your teeth?” Me.
“Why?” G.
“Because It looks like you haven’t brushed them in like- oh I don’t know..forever?” Me.
“Oh”. G
“Just because you’re not in school, and it’s summer.. Does not mean you don’t participate in good hygiene.”Me
“Huh?” G.
“Never mind, just go brush your teeth, and when you are done..brush them again.
Silence.
“G..What’s up?” I asked.
“I threw my tooth brush away.”
“When?”
“A while a go..”
OH MY GOD.
Help. We need structure.
But then the end of summer comes. It becomes evidently clear, to me that all good things must come to an end.
G needs structure. Summer must end. I don’t even think he is bathing anymore. The other day- late in the day-as I was having a ”what were you thinking?” conversation with him. I glanced at his teeth.
It looked like he had taken a spatula and flung food at his mouth like a sling shot.
“What is up with your teeth?” Me.
“Why?” G.
“Because It looks like you haven’t brushed them in like- oh I don’t know..forever?” Me.
“Oh”. G
“Just because you’re not in school, and it’s summer.. Does not mean you don’t participate in good hygiene.”Me
“Huh?” G.
“Never mind, just go brush your teeth, and when you are done..brush them again.
Silence.
“G..What’s up?” I asked.
“I threw my tooth brush away.”
“When?”
“A while a go..”
OH MY GOD.
Help. We need structure.
Jul 27, 2010
Your Opinon
Thinking about quiting this blog. What's your opinion? I never hear from anyone..so I don't know if you enjoy it?
Let me know your thoughts.
Jo
Let me know your thoughts.
Jo
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