Rough Draft

The Dog

Ah, Bridget.  The little beagle dog who turned three during our vacation and often gets a bad rap for her barking at little children walking home from school and anyone who comes within fifty feet of our home's perimeter.

We took her to the vet several times making sure all her shots are up to date, checking on an ear infection, and running tests for seizures.  We also had them give us a bottle of sedatives to relax her on the road and possibly in the hotel because I envisioned barking fits at everyone who happened to walk down the corridor and possibly anyone in the pool, even if she couldn't see the pool.

On the day we were locking up the house and heading out I couldn't find the bottle of medication.  I was overwhelmed and hot and frustrated and annoyed with myself.  Where did I put it? We had the car already packed and were taking crap out and looking through boxes and in glove compartments...nothing.  Ugh.  So, before we headed to our first night in northern Idaho, we stopped at the vet again and bought ANOTHER bottle of sedatives.

Well, the first day, she was a dream! She panted a bit in the backseat (we kept her in a crate) and we planned several stops along the way in which we had a total routine down: dog first.  So, before anyone headed off to the bathroom we got her out of the car to go potty and I grabbed the traveling food/water dish and gave her water.  We fed her only twice and every time we stopped, she went potty.  She didn't bark at anyone at the rest stops (well, unless she truly didn't like someone and on the rare occasion she would bark at people...it was kinda funny who she picked to bark at).

She didn't have any accidents in the car or in the hotels.  She hardly barked.  Initially she was a little uneasy in the car but she got used to it to the point where she preferred to be in the car, in her crate.  She ate fine, she slept at night fine.  Not once did she require taking out at 3am.  She slept on "her" blanket on our bed every single night.

Other than the fact that we couldn't sight see the way I would have wanted to...she was a dream traveler.  We ended up ordering take out or having something delivered to our room and we ate dinner in our hotel room...in the mornings Larry took the boys for breakfast and then Jennifer and I went down to eat. And Larry and I alternated who took the kids to the pool.

And, all that medicine? We never used it.  Now we have over thirty dollars of pet sedatives and we didn't use any of it (I still haven't found that first bottle).  After the first day we decided to chance it and see what day two brought.  Basically she was so "exhausted" after the drive that she got into the hotel and crashed all night.

I never would have thought that Bridget would have been such a great dog to travel with.  Plus, everyone at the rest stops all wanted to pet her because let's face it...she is damn cute.

Here

Well, we are here.  On the east coast.  To live.

The trip was as enjoyable as it could be driving 2500 miles over nine days with three kids and one dog.  Compared to right now, I would take that random hotel in the middle of South Dakota with the fresh coffee in the lobby, hot breakfast in the morning, and maid service.

We hit a good share of rain throughout the trip and the California in me was surprised.  "Really? It rains across this country in JULY?!?"

The countryside, however, despite the rain, was amazingly beautiful.  We hit a total of 9 states: Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Iowa, Missouri, Indiana, Illinois, Ohio, and Pennsylvania.

We were able to make the two sightseeing trips I wanted to make on this trip: Mount Rushmore and Lincoln's tomb.  Amazing and amazing.  Breathtaking and fascinating.  Completely and totally WORTH the pit stop.

For Mount Rushmore we took the 250 or so steps through their "walking trail" to get even closer to the carved rock.  We were lucky enough to be walking down some steps with an employee that was off duty and she stood and talked with us for twenty minutes and we were able to ask questions...that was great!  Loved this place.  A total MUST SEE.

When we hit Springfield Illinois my main objective was to see Lincoln's tomb.  However, we were traveling on a Sunday and the tour book said they were closed Sundays and Mondays.  I instantly cussed out (in my head OF COURSE) our Triple A person who mapped out this trip of ours and I specifically told her the only two stops we planned to make and was pissed that she would have us going into Springfield on a SUNDAY!  However, I called and the lovely man on the other end informed me that the literature was incorrect and they were in fact open.  I took back all the nasty stuff I said about the Triple A lady.

So, we found the Oak Ridge cemetery where he is buried and we walked into the monument and around the grounds (I really wanted to see the first place they had him buried when graverobbers almost stole his body but they have taken that structure down and replaced it with a marker).  When I walked passed his tomb, I got chills.  It felt surreal.  Now everyone is anxious to visit DC and check out Fords Theater...we are a morbid bunch. 

Anyway, as an added bonus and because we had plenty of the afternoon left we decided to check out the home he and Mary bought prior to his presidency.  Apparently, in the parlor of this home was where he was informed he had won the democratic nomination.  The streets around his house were all set up to look exactly as they did when Lincoln lived there so you could see it as he saw it.  Is it me or does anyone else get tingly thinking about that kind of stuff? (Okay, I know, it is only me.)  Inside the house some of the items belonged to the Lincolns and many just to that time period but the highlight was the banister.  It was the only thing in the house that was not only original but was not replaced so it was the actual banister that Lincoln TOUCHED.  Cool, yes?

The house and street tour was great because we were able to have the dog with us and walk around even though she couldn't obviously go into Lincoln's house.

We kept our drive to about 300 miles or 5 hours, give or take, which was PERFECT.  We woke up early but not TOO early...everyone got ready, we divided up for breakfast (someone had to stay with the dog in the hotel at all times) and then we were on the road by 9:30-10 and into the town by 2-3pm...enough time to check in, relax, take the kids to the pool, figure out and order dinner, and crash, exhausted.

Now we are in our home here in Pennsylvania but I am not myself.  There is a lot of work to be done and I have never moved into an older home so I have a bit of anxiety/sadness/disappointment/frustration/overwhelm going on.  Today Larry has continued to paint the many rooms and I have done basically nothing other than cook dinner.  I am feeling lost and lonely and sad and out of sorts.  Our moving truck comes on Saturday and we are hoping to get as much of the painting done as possible.  There is a lot of little bits of "stuff" to do before we can take it easy...mainly stuff that I am entirely too finicky/princessey to let go of...thankfully my husband understands this and accepts the crazy requests of his heavyhearted wife.

I will have more detailed information on my IDTOPA blog (see the sidebar for the link).
I will also have pictures to share of the above mentioned and more once the moving truck delivers all our stuff and I get my computer and camera charger all hooked up again.  So, stay tuned.  In the meantime, if you want to say nice and happy and the-world-is-not-going-to-end kind of things, I welcome them.

My Dad

I know this is really in the stupid category but I can't help it.

Today the movers come.
Tonight we leave our home.
Tomorrow the utilities will be disconnected.
Including the phone...

And on the phone was a message that every 100 days I save.

It was a message from my dad when he was in the hospital here in 2005 and he was calling to tell me his room number and that he "hopes you call me, bye."

I know.

I need to move on.  I realize this.  But, dammit, I love hearing his voice.  Makes me pretend for thirty seconds that he is still here and he wants me to call him.  I wish.

Today at some point I plan to listen to it some more (I don't care to admit how many) and write it down and then it will go poof along with the phone by morning.

Moving on is NOT easy...in SO many ways.

A Few Chapters Close

1.  I am no longer dealing with being a single mom.  I don't have to take out the trash, figure out how to get the upstairs air conditioning to work, or wonder why the front lawn has some brown spots.  I don't have to be the only one dealing with the kids all day, all night, 24/7.  I don't have to do it ALL by myself: the dishes, the discipline, the dog, the housework, the yard, the car, the laundry, etc. etc. etc.  Most importantly, we are back together as one family unit.  THAT is the best thing.  If I were to do it again, I wouldn't.  Sure, I learned that I could take the car in by myself for oil changes, I could change the light bulbs if I had to, and I could try and get the ice maker in the refrigerator to start working again...but, big whoop.  I know I am strong enough.  I know I am independent enough.  But, we all suffered from this situation in our own way.  If it happened again I would tell the kids to prepare to leave in sixty days...say goodbye, pack up, and join my husband wherever it was he landed.  Living apart is not ideal.  We need each other and while the kids teachers all told me that despite the challenges our family faced this school year, the kids were amazingly well-adjusted and did outstanding all year...I would never agree to this sort of arrangement again.  I'm glad it is over, even if it means major (and very heartbreaking) change.

2.  We had our last "official" scrapbook Friday night at my house last week.  When Corinna left and I locked the door behind her, I cried.  It's over.  I remember when I first arrived in this town and I wanted to scrapbook so badly...went to a store a few times...sat by myself and listened to all the women around me having fun...was about to give it up and just scrapbook at home, by myself (which was what I expected to do when I moved here and envisioned myself in this lovely room of mine, alone)...when I met Corinna in the fall of 2004.  I think, with the exception of handfuls of times, we have scrapbooked on Friday nights ever since.  And, in the last three or so years, our routine has been consistent and over-the-top FUN.  There are SO many inside jokes, laughs, giggles-until-you-almost-pee-your-pants, and rituals that it pains me to think I will really be alone-alone when I move.  Oh sure, I will eventually meet people, maybe even people that scrapbook (there is not, from what I could tell, a "scrapbook" only kind of store where I'm headed) but it will never, EVER be the same as what I had here.  It has been the absolute BEST time scrapbooking I have EVER had.  EVER.  The amazing creative energy...the amazing camaraderie...the amazing fact that Corinna will take the endless mocking of her use of die's...I could go on and on.  I will miss it.  A LOT.  Scrapbooking for me will never be quite the same.  So, thank you all for making this time an absolute GREAT time doing a little hobby of pushing paper around our personal memories.  I could not have asked for a better run...

3.  My parent's house.  The plan originally was all so picture perfect.  My dad wanted to be up here closer after we moved out of San Diego.  They decided to build a house close enough that my dad could walk to my house (as he advanced in age and maybe couldn't drive anymore) or the kids could ride their bikes to their house.  Less than a year later, my dad dies.  A new normal is formed.  My mom flies up a few times a year.  The kids have sleepovers at her house.  She comes over for breakfasts on the weekends and dinners every night.  The kids are excited when she is due to come and are sad when she leaves.  And while TRYING to keep up with her house, yard, car, etc. proved to be entirely overwhelming in itself for all of us, plus our own house, yard, cars, and life...this is another chapter closing.  My mom's house is for sale, her belongings already en-route to San Diego...the pictures are off the wall...the counters are cleared...the cabinets, drawers, and closets are empty.  And, after next Monday her furniture will be bunking with mine on the ride east.  Seeing her house with boxes and the for sale sign in the yard, is completely and utterly bittersweet.  I am very sad.  My dad had such high hopes.  Such good intentions.  Such good dreams.  And now it is over.  My mom slept there for the last time last night.  Tonight she will sleep here in my guest room since she leaves before the sun comes up tomorrow to head back home, her real home.  From now on she will visit us in Pennsylvania but stay at our house.  She won't have her own car, the kids will not be able to have "sleepovers", and she will not only have dinners with us but all meals.  It will be another change.  Something new to call normal again.  And, I will mourn this loss like I have mourned losses in the past...and will be mourning any other losses on the horizon as well.

These three chapters have all come to a close within three days of each other.  Let's hope when I open the new book the chapters are filled with sunshine, love, happiness, joy, and contentment.

The Water Park

Let me be quite clear: I don't like the water park.

For starters, it is too damn expensive.  I mean, really, thirty bucks a person for, what, a few acres of water rides? (I am not kidding, it is an incredibly SMALL place) and maybe because I hail from the southern part of California where our "amusement" parks are anything but small.  I don't know.  But, the bottom line is the place is too small and ridiculously high priced.

Why do I go, you ask?  Because my kids read over 800 minutes in the spring and therefore they received free passes to the water park (now you are wondering why I am complaining about the high price if I got free tickets...and that is because Josh is in middle school and doesn't get those reading incentives nor do I as loving parent).

It is so crowded.  Toddlers who poo/pee in the pool.  Screaming children.  And crazy people who should NOT be wearing bikini's.  But, that is really neither here nor there in the grand scheme of things.  I don't care if these people should have, technically, given up the use of bikini's, let's say, sixty pounds and four children ago.  But, whatever.  Let me just say that sitting in the sun and listening to screaming kids all day is NOT what I consider to be FUN.

No, I do not go into the pools.  I DON'T CARE HOW MUCH CHLORINE they use.  Ew. Yuck.  It absolutely, positively GROSSES ME OUT.  No thank you.  I'm not normally obsessive like that (okay, maybe I am a little) but being in pools of water with five thousand other people is totally NOT MY THING.

We also avoid, as much as possible, the purchase of food in there as well.  I could feed my three kids for a week in what lunch would cost us so instead we packed a lunch and left it in a cooler in our car and sat on the grass outside the gates for lunch.  I did buy a large cup and sipped lemonade all day and because I'm not totally a mean mommy, I bought them ice cream too.

Here is my biggest issue with this place.  Now, it is not a universal truth here...but, I feel that sometimes these "organized" places that cost a fortune for parents overall is a total waste of money and does nothing but feed our "need" to constantly overstimulate our children.  What happened to simpler ways for children to play?  How many of us have experienced first hand the whole, "they didn't play with the (expensive) toy but instead wanted the box to play in instead".  That.  That is my point.  My kids are almost giddy with excitement over going to the water park and yet once there they are "bored" or "don't want to get wet anymore" (hello, news flash: WE ARE IN A WATER PARK!) or the lines are too long or they are tired and hungry, etc. etc. etc. as if the build up is the best part.

A couple of days ago I took the kids, each with a friend, to our pool.  The girls played ring around the rosy and laughed and giggled and jumped into the pool ninety times and were happy as clams and didn't want to get out nor go home.  The boys, all four of them (amazingly rare), played this game (I sat there and watched and couldn't figure out what they were playing) with a ball for HOURS.  Not a few minutes.  HOURS.

Now, granted, not everyone has a pool and while ours comes to the tune of eight hundred dollars a year, I still see it as "free" and I don't have to fight crowds, find good parking in the shade, listen to hundreds of screaming children, or be grossed out about ALL those people in those yucky bodies of water...

Plus, it provides them with unstructured, no bells or whistles kind of play.  They can still have fun without sliding down massive, brightly colored tubes.  They can still have fun and be outside and be active without it breaking the bank.  They can learn how to have fun with simple things instead of always wanting MORE and bigger and faster and better.  Of course, places like that, for us anyway, are "treats" (for them, not me) and something I would NEVER consider doing all summer (and would never, ever, EVER consider season passes for).

I'm all for summertime fun, and I don't expect them to kick a can or go play with a handful of rocks and my kids are FAR from being deprived little beings, but I also hope to "teach" them that fun can come in many ways...and finding enjoyment and fun in simple (perhaps even free) ways will make them overall more satisfied with life.

I think summer should be a time for exploring, downtime, having simple, low-key kind of days....Swimming, reading, being outside, playing with friends, crafts. 

I have officially made our last trip to the water park (which, by the way, despite their special promotion last week, was surprisingly EMPTIER than I have ever seen it in the past and I'm not sure why that makes me kinda glad, but it does...people are being smart and not spending money on places like that) and I am tickled.  The water park will definitely NOT be something I miss about living in Idaho.

Oh Yes, Father's Day

Today is one of those days.

First, I am beyond excited that Larry is actually HERE and HOME and with US and able to celebrate and partake in all the father's day goodness like sleeping in and having his son make him waffles and cinnamon muffins.  Now, granted, there may be some box assembly and perhaps a little packing here and there sprinkled throughout the day, but by God, he will have a great day.

I am very blessed, as are the children, who have an amazing dad.  He is present and active in their lives.  He is there for them.  He listens to them.  He is caring and loving.  He fixes their bikes, helps with homework, and tucks them in bed.  He sits on the floor with them and plays games or is the happy participant in whatever stuffed animal, Barbie, or baby doll "activity" Jennifer thinks up.  He throws balls outside with them, goes into the pool with them, and will turn the sprinklers on just for them (something mom apparently does not know how to do).  He will make them special Swedish pancakes that takes him hours in the morning.  He will drive them to school and picks them up.  He is patient and totally involved.  He has the answers and can fix or solve just about any dilemma.  And, even more amazing, he has managed to accomplish and maintain a close bond even from afar...

I could not imagine a better partner in raising our children.  From the beginning he was right there, changing diapers and playing on the floor when they were toddlers.  We may not always agree on everything, but we definitely are behind one another and hopefully we are showing a loving, united front, despite all the challenges our family has faced in the past year.

I hope Larry has a wonderful Father's day today, as do all the great father's and grandfather's out there doing amazing jobs...HAPPY FATHER'S DAY.  I love you honey...so glad we are all together again.

Now, father's day.  Oy.

This is one of the harder days for me.  All the attention on dad's and father's and grandfather's.  And dammit, mine isn't here.

Celebrating "Father's Day" when yours is no longer here is like cake with no frosting.  It is still good, because, hey, it is CAKE after all, but it isn't quite as good nor is it quite the same.

Of course, I don't need father's day or his birthday or the anniversary of his death to think about or miss my dad.  I miss him literally every day.  Now, because it has been three plus years, my grief and sadness are done primarily privately.  Occasionally, I will let a tear roll in the presence of others, but most of my balling because I miss my dad more than anything is done in the privacy of my own space.

I talk to him a lot.  Especially when my mom is driving me crazy, I have been known to get mad at him for leaving me.  My world is TOTALLY different without him.  My life is TOTALLY different without him.  I miss talking to him.  I miss him in my life because he was THERE for just about everything.  I miss watching him with my kids.  Yesterday Jennifer cut out little pictures of my parents and Larry and I (just about everyone including the dog...EXCEPT her brothers) and will wear a picture of papa in her locket today (she wore Larry's picture yesterday).  Breaks my heart.

And, I know...he lived a long life; he is in a better place; we are supposed to expect our parents to die; and...the death of a parent is down far on the list of losing loved ones...

...however, all that sounds great on paper but when your heart aches, your heart aches.  Period.  And I will always feel that 39 years old was TOO YOUNG for me to lose my dad.

I had a great father.  Not a perfect one.  But one that was always there for me.  ALWAYS.  No matter what.  No matter how big or small the situation.  He was extremely present in my life from the time I could remember until the day he died.  And I never for once doubted his love for me.  Sure, we argued and sure he said things that drove me crazy, but he was an incredibly kind-hearted, loving man.  And I miss him more than I can possibly write.

Happy Father's Day dad...I love you so much and I miss you terribly.

Wanted: Laughter

This is something that has been seriously missing in my world these days.  Laughter.  Not just a little laugh now and then but the true, deep inside you, giggle until you can't stop, laughter that comes from only one thing: letting yourself be lost in the humor.

I am NOT lost on any humor right now.  Oh sure, I have laughed, but immediately following, I am reminded, "oh yeah, I'm leaving."  It is on my mind every single solitary moment.

And because my world is heavy right now, laughter is a sparse commodity. 

I am looking forward to getting to that place again sooner rather than later.  Where I can relax and not think of the million STRESSFUL tasks that need to be done or think how in the world will I hold it together to actually pack this house, see the boxes being loaded onto a giant semi, and then the next morning say goodbye to this state.  HOW?

Am I dealing? Hmmm.  Good question.  I'm not sure.  I cry at the drop of a hat (and if my mom calls me "oversensitive" one more time, there may be blood).  I am simply sad.  My energy level is in the toilet.  I feel horrible.  I don't sleep well.  I worry.  And what seems to be the only help...mindless "tasks" that are of zero importance...

...Like organizing ALL my embroidery patterns into categories and then placing them in page protectors and into 3-ring binders.  Or, obsessively tearing apart magazines I have had piled up (many of which made the trek from San Diego up here with me...and the good news is that I no longer own ANY magazines in which will make the trek east), sorting them into categories too (like recipes, scrapbooking, card making, gift ideas, etc. etc.), and placing them in large bags later to be glued into already decorated composition books.

See what I mean?

Don't bother going to Triple A yet and getting the trip mapped out and reservations made.  Can't do it.  Sadly, I'm not even that excited about it yet.  Car trips are not high on my vacation list and couple that with closing shop on this house and the whole thing flops.

I did manage to purge a bit more and get the car worked on but it has to go back in the shop next week for a few things they couldn't get to because they had to order parts.  And, the dog is going in on Monday for some necessary shots and a prescription to drugs that will keep her calm on the journey.  I've also managed to snap 400+ photos of every angle, inside and out, of this house so later I can throw myself a pity party and cry endlessly, maybe while I watch sad tear-jerker movies too...why not.

I was doing so much better a month or so ago.  I got the moving company booklet with the to-do checklist and how early it should all be done and I was gung-ho on accomplishing the tasks before they were even "required".  Now, I'm about three weeks, at least, behind.  Do I care? Not really.  Will it all get done?  Pretty sure.  And, I figure I will be stressed no matter what, so what is the difference?  Being on top of it all and having all the ducks in a pretty row will not diminish the stress.

God, the stress.  I need it to go away.  I feel absolutely horrible.  I guess the glass half full is that we didn't put the house on the market YET because if we had and keeping up with all of THAT extra special stressy goodness would have literally thrown me over the edge.  And, honestly, I would have been happy to go off that edge...maybe smiling all the way down.

On the bright side: Larry is coming home-home TODAY.  We no longer have to say goodbye to him. I no longer have to do this single-mother bullshit all by myself.  Hell, I don't even have to take out the trash anymore.  At least we will be a family unit again and for THAT I am very happy.

In the meantime I will be looking for the laughter the second this enormous, ugly, unwanted weight is lifted from my ever-sagging shoulders.

A Week

A week of being a "single" mom.
A week until we become a COMPLETE family again.
A week of doing this whole thing solo.
A week until Larry flies home and we no longer have to say goodbye.
If I wasn't so overwhelmed, stressed, and overall exhausted, I would be jumping up and down right now and filling the house with balloons.
Time is moving fast, almost too fast.

Happy Birthday To A Dear (Old) Friend

Today is the birthday of one of my oldest friends.  We have known each other for over THIRTY FIVE years!  We have been through it ALL together and then some and back again.

Before I moved to Idaho, we would get together OFTEN.  Birthdays, special events, little moments, big moments.  Nowadays, that couldn't be further from our reality...and I miss her and her family A LOT. 

Our lives have taken us down different roads and sometimes those roads lead us home and sometimes they don't.  Right now I feel as though I'm on one serious detour.

I'm hoping that she has a wonderful birthday today.  I'm hoping that she knows that I love her.  I'm hoping that we don't ever lose sight of what friendship is all about and how precious and fleeting life can be.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LL.  I'm here for you always, you know that.  Enjoy your day.  I'm thinking of you...and I miss you terribly.

Postscript

I was (mindlessly) going through magazines and tearing out ideas that interest me (it is busy work that seems to be the only tangible thing I can do at the moment...so frustrating) and stumbled upon this little ditty from an old Real Simple that seemed to go along with my entry from yesterday:

"The best reason to take your time is that this time is the only time you'll ever have.  You must take it, or it will be taken from you.  It is telling that the phrase "taking your time" is synonymous with slowing down.  If we want to live life fully, we do best to slow down.   I don't suggest that we turn back the clock, trying to retrieve a bygone era when life was slower.  We couldn't, even if we wanted to.  But I don't believe we should want to.  We should revel in our electronically supercharged, unbounded world.  But, to make the most out of this new world, to avoid feeling overbooked, overstretched, and about to snap, to make modern life become better than life has ever been, a person must learn how to do what matters most first.  Otherwise, you will bulldoze over life's best moments.  You won't notice the little charms that adorn each day, nor will you ever transform the mundane into the extraordinary."

-Excerpted from Crazybusy, by Edward M. Hallowell, M.D.