The Crab Chronicles

Missing My Babies

Tomorrow is the first day of July. YAY! I have already flipped both calendars to July. June was not a great month in so many ways, chief among them because I was laid off, of course.

 

My brother got in pretty late last night, and we had a short visit before everyone headed off to bed. This morning, I was the first one up, as always, and out the door to water the garden. I made a cup of tea and was eating some cereal before the Major even came downstairs. Highly unusual, but he had a long day yesterday.

 

Within a short time, the kids were packed and headed off to the North Georgia mountains to camp at Amicalola Falls State Park. Being a mom, even though Bruce assured me there was plenty of food and water in the truck, I had to do certain things. I had to interrogate him about his medical kit. I had to pack a small backpack with apples, oranges, bottles of water, and a sleeve of Ritz crackers. I had to pack extra towels and light blankets in a bag with extra flashlights, soap, a small sewing kit, and salt and pepper. I went over the packing list with Michael. I checked his bag. When he wasn’t looking, I slipped his pocket knife, camera, and a yoyo into his backpack.

 

I pulled Alesia aside and told her to look after Michael and be a little mommy if he needed her. I pulled Michael aside and told him if Bruce wasn’t around [like in the shower or the bathroom] to look after Alesia and protect her. I pulled Bruce aside and quietly told him that Michael needs lots of hugs and Alesia is afraid of the dark. I told all of them to look after each other. Am I nervous? Anxious? No. Of course not.

 

Well, not until after they left. Then Mother decides to tell me that Bruce said he would only tell the kids one rule: if they see a bear, get under the truck. Huh? A BEAR? He took my babies out where there are BEARS???!!  I was sorely tempted to drink my lunch out of the Harvey’s Bristol Crème bottle I have stashed away. [I didn’t though! Nothing but cooking wine has touched my lips in more than 4 years.]

 

Now, I won’t say I miss the kids, but look at the photo below of Coco. The look on her face is exactly how I feel. I miss my babies. The house is way too quiet.

 

I spent the afternoon working on book marketing and talking to a couple of different friends on the phone. For dinner, Mother and I split the leftover shrimp dip from the party and some leftover beef stew from last night. We watched CNN and the coverage of Michael’s Jackson’s death spectacle. Obviously he was super talented, but now it’s coming out how screwed up he was also. What a tragedy. I just hope and pray his children stay together and wind up in a loving home.

 

Bruce called late this afternoon. I talked to both the kids. They had their campsite set up and everything was going well. I could hear in their voices that they are having fun. I just hope they can sleep tonight.

 

When Michael was with his birthmom and they were homeless I know he slept outside a lot. I hope the camping experience doesn’t bring back bad memories.

 

Alesia took this photo of Mike the other day and I just love it. He was at the pool, and happy.

 

 

Here are a couple of photos Alesia made at the aquarium a couple of weeks ago. Top - Anya, Alesia, and Frank's wife Laura. Bottom, Mike and his friend Clay.

 

My friend Cindy posted a lovely review of my book on her blog. Check it out. Thanks, Cindy! Also, my friend Julia posted a nice review on her site, Brainella. Thanks!! Blessed are the current and former librarians!

Wonderfully Made, Or Not

My friend Andrea over at The Creative Junkie just posted a hysterical piece about how she explained the birds & bees to her 5 year old, after finding the child and a friend playing Ken and Barbie make a baby. I'm sure that was horrible for Andrea. My heart goes out to her.

When Alesia came home, I realized that I was now parent to a 13 year old girl and I had no idea if she knew anything about where babies came from. She was physically about the size and shape of an American 10 year old, and had not started her periods, but I had to do something.

I remembered my poor grandmother, raised in a proper Victorian home where babies arrived every year or two and nobody knew anything. She started her periods and thought she was dying of some terrible disease, until one of her 6 sisters set her straight. I didn't want that to happen to Alesia.

I invited my friend Kate, who is a Russian interpreter/translator, to come over and visit, about two days after we arrived back home from Moscow. Alesia was still getting used to fast food and microwave ovens.

Kate was great about explaining things to Alesia in Russian. While she was there it occurred to me I needed her help. Kate agreed to explain the facts of life to Alesia in Russian, which was extraordinarily kind of her.

First, Kate asked Alesia if she knew anything about sex or where babies come from. Alesia said yes, of course, a man and woman take off their clothes and get in bed. That was it. That was all she knew. I wish we could have stopped right there, but I knew it was important for Alesia to understand her own body and how it worked. Kate explained the whole thing, in detail. I was fascinated by the hand gestures. Kate must be part Italian, somewhere in her background, because she has very expressive hands. Alesia's eyes were huge, wide as saucers, much the same expression as she has in this photo, made less than a week before she got here:

Still, when she finally got her period it was horrific, for both of us. Lots of pain, and mess. The language barrier was still an issue. More troubling was the fact she had forgotten a lot of Kate's talk and was just horrified by the whole situation. I was, too. Lots of crying, done by us both.

Now things are fine, except for the PMS. I won't even go there.

With me, Mother tried to explain scientifically, exactly what happens. I was 9 years old, and Mother knew I was in danger of starting my periods early, which in fact did happen. So Mother gave me a book and told me to read it. It was called Wonderfully Made. I Googled the book title, just for fun, and I found this funny blog which shows a lot of the illustrations from the book. As you can see, it was not a very informative book. I realized pretty quickly that amidst all the neato illustrations, there was no real explanation of how the sperm and egg actually got together. That was a crucial piece of information and I was outraged that book didn't cover it. Curiosity was my undoing.

Sometime around this same time, the early 1970's, my parents purchased a book called The Joy of Sex. I am sure they tried to hide it from us, but my brother and I found it. It had beautiful pen and ink drawings of a hippie couple having sex. The biggest fascination for me was the carefully drawn armpit hair on the woman. Up until then, our main source of information was the Better Homes and Gardens baby book, which had a small photo of a woman breastfeeding a baby.

When Mike turned 12, I felt like I probably needed to go ahead and explain things to him, because he was going into adolescence. Actually, the moment I saw a pimple on his face I had a panic attack, thinking, OMG, I need to explain all the icky boy stuff to him like unwanted erections and wet dreams and I have only the vaguest idea of how to talk about those things...

I emailed my brother and several close male friends to see if any of them would be willing to talk to Michael about the facts of life and all the icky boy stuff. To my surprise, none of them jumped at the chance. My brother, ever the diplomat, expressed complete disinterest in the whole situation.

I was telling Mother about it and she reminded me that when my father tried to explain the facts of life to my brother Bruce, it was a disaster. First, he sat Bruce down and tried to talk to him. Bruce ran out of the room and was not seen again for hours.  Next, Dad took Bruce out on the lake, in our boat. He went out to the middle of the lake and cut off the engine. As soon as he started the spiel, Bruce jumped out and swam to shore. Finally, Dad got Bruce in the car and got on the interstate, doing about 70 mph, and Bruce was trapped. Dad explained the whole thing. At the end of the speech, Bruce said "I knew all that already. How fast are you going again?" They got home and Bruce was not seen again for hours.

With me, I had the vague and inadequate Wonderfully Made. Then I got an explanation from Mother that left me completely puzzled. It took years for me to figure out what happened between a man and a woman, and I remember thinking, Ken and Barbie cannot do that because their arms and legs aren't flexible enough. I secretly hoped I didn't have to grow armpit hair to make a baby. Sometime during this whole thing, we saw a film in school where a hippie couple gave birth in a lagoon, which looked a little weird but not too bad, and another one where they showed the baby emerging from the screaming mother covered in blood and ick. I thought to myself OK, this is worse than a horror movie. No way can that not hurt like hell.

Around the same time, I asked Dad what he thought the first time he saw me. That was a loaded question. With Bruce, Mom kept going in and out of labor, for a week. He couldn't make up his mind to be born. Mom would have pains, and they'd go to the hospital. The pains would stop, and they'd go home. Finally, there was a horribly long labor, and Dad set up a card table in the waiting room. All his friends came and they played poker, drank beer, smoked, and grew facial hair. Mom was down the hall dealing with a boy and a kidney infection. That was 1959.

In 1962, with me, Mom waited until the last minute to tell anyone she was in labor. I was almost born in a folding chair at a 4th of July Party while Mother ate barbeque and peaches, except the host of the party was her doctor. He noticed she was wincing every few minutes. Next thing you know, he gives Mother something to slow the labor, pops her over to the hospital, reaches in and unwraps the cord from around my neck, and there I was. By the time Dad got there with the beer and the poker chips, I had arrived. He said he took one look at me and, he told me later, he thought "She looks like a skint squirrel."

Thank you, Pappy Yoakum. What a Hallmark moment.

Anyway, I digressed. Back to Michael.

With Mike, I wasn't sure of all his English words, and so my explanation had to be rudimentary. He kept looking at me like, you've GOT to be kidding me. I finally ended up drawing pictures. He got a look on his face similar to the one below. I started explaining the icky boy stuff and he bellowed "I KNOW!! Stop talking!" and it occurred to me since we weren't in a moving car, I better be quiet.

Now, I have already decided that when I have adolescent grandchildren, I am going to volunteer to tell them the facts of life. I'm not going to provide icky details of anything. I am going to say when a mommy and dadddy want a baby - or when a single lady pushing 40 wants a baby by herself instead of waiting for Mr. Right Now - they call an agency, do a homestudy, and some months later, there's a new baby in the house. I like that. Clean and tidy.

Or I will just tell them to Google "procreation."

Not YouTube though. No reason to go there.
 

Irons In The Fire

Party day. I am tired.

 

The kids and I went to work right after breakfast and we really got the house cleaned up. Alesia scrubbed down the kitchen and the kitchen floor, and ingeniously found ways to store things in the cabinets, out of sight. Mike helped me water plants, vacuumed, and hauled a lot of things which needed to be put away in the garage.

 

When we were pretty much done cleaning, about 12:30, Alesia announced she was going upstairs to get a shower. Mike and I went to Arbys to pick up sandwiches for lunch. When we got back, Alesia was clean and had rearranged her room. After lunch, she rearranged Michael’s room.

 

Both their rooms now have much more floor space, because the beds are smack against the windows. I was not terribly pleased, but they assured me they would keep their curtains closed – which they usually do anyway – so I wasn’t going to fuss too much. I remember taking great delight in rearranging the furniture in my room fairly often, when I was a kid.

 

My party went well, although I didn’t have a big turnout. Several neighbors came, but only one of my MAPREC families. The weather was so hot, the kids stayed upstairs playing. However, at one point Michael took the neighbors’ 4 year old outside and supervised him, and Mom said she looked out in the back yard and the little guy was just running around in circles like a dog, then he’d plop down and rest, then run around again. He was on the trampoline. Mike was very patient with him.

 

Michael got to spend several hours yesterday at the pool with his buddies, and taught himself to do a flip off the diving board. All day long he’s been saying “I have to go back to the pool so I can flip! I don’t want to forget!”

 

We’ve worked hard all weekend, and really for the past week, so I told the kids tomorrow is a rest day. We all need to do laundry, but that’s not a tough task.

 

I meant to take photos of the party but I just forgot. One of my neighbors, Jenean, made me a gorgeous cake with the Russian flag on top and an inset of the book cover. She has a website. If you're in the north Atlanta area and need a special cake, let her know.

The kids and I made dinner of the party food, and watched Valkyrie, which was interesting, but not as good as I had hoped.

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Mother sent me an amusing email, which is below. I know I am old, because I have heard most of these expressions all my life and I still use a lot of them. I've never heard of "barking at a knot" or "between hay and grass." They didn't list one of my favorite expressions, which one of my great grandmothers liked, "climbing fool's hill" - usually applied to a foolish young man.

A LICK AND A PROMISE

  
'I'll just give this a lick and a promise,' my mother said as she quickly mopped up a spill on the floor without moving any of the furniture. 

'What is that supposed to mean,' I asked as in my young mind I envisioned someone licking the floor with his or her tongue. 

'It means that I'm in a hurry and I'm busy canning tomatoes so I am going to just give it a lick with the mop and promise to come back and do the job right later. 

'A lick and a promise' was just one of the many old phrases that our mothers, grandmothers, and others used that they probably heard from the generations before them. With the passing of time, many old phrases become obsolete or even disappear.  This is unfortunate because some of them are very appropriate and humorous. Here is a list of some of those memorable old phrases:  

 1. A Bone to Pick (someone who wants to discuss a disagreement) 

2. An Axe to Grind (Someone who has a hidden motive. This phrase is said to have originated from Benjamin Franklin  who told a story about a devious man who asked how a grinding wheel worked. He ended up walking away with his axe sharpened free of  charge)   

3. One bad apple spoils the whole barrel (one corrupt person can cause all the others to go bad if you don't remove the bad one) 

4. At sea (lost or not understanding something) 

5. Bad Egg (Someone who was not a good person) 

6. Barking at a knot (meaning that your efforts were as useless as a dog barking at a knot.) 

7.  Barking up the wrong tree (talking about something that was completely the wrong issue with the wrong person)

8.  Bee in your bonnet (To have an idea that won't let loose ) 

9.  Been through the mill (had a rough time of it) 

10.Between hay and grass (Not a child or an adult) 

11. Blinky (Between sweet and sour as in milk) 

12. Calaboose (a jail) 

13. Catawampus (Something that sits crooked such as a piece of furniture sitting at an angle) 

14. Dicker (To barter or trade) 

15.  Feather in Your Cap (to accomplish a goal. This came from years ago in wartime when warriors might receive a feather they would put in their cap for defeating an ene my)  

16.  Hold your horses  (Be patient!)  

17.  Hoosegow ( a jail) 

18.  I reckon (I suppose) 

19.  Jawing/Jawboning (Talking or arguing) 

20. Kit and caboodle (The whole thing)  

21.  Madder than an wet hen (really angry) 

22. Needs taken down a notch or two (like notches in a belt usually a young person who thinks too highly of himself and needs a lesson) 

23.No Spring Chicken  (Not young anymore) 

24.Persnickety  (overly particular or snobbish) 

25.Pert-near  (short for pretty near) 

26.Pretty is as pretty does  (your actions are more important than your looks) 

27.Redy up  (clean the house) 

28.Scalawag  (a rascal or unprincipled person) 

29.Scarce as hen's teeth  (something difficult to obtain) 

30.Skedaddle  (Get out of here quickly) 

31.  Sparking  (courting) 

32.Straight From the Horse's Mouth  (privileged information from the one concerned) 

33.Stringing around, gallivanting around, or piddling  (Not doing anything of value) 

34.Sunday go to meetin' dress  (The best dress you had) 

35.We wash up real fine  (look good when we are cleaned up) 

36.Tie the Knot  (to get married) 

37.Too many irons in the fire  (to be involved in too many things)        

38.Tuckered out  (tired and all worn out) 

39. Under the weather  (not feeling well this term came from going below deck on ships due to sea sickness thus you go below or under the weather) 

40.Wearing your 'best bib and tucker'  (Being all dressed up) 

41.  You ain't the only duck in the pond  (It's not all about you) 

 Well, if you hold your horses, I reckon I'll get this whole kit and caboodle done and sent off to you. Please don't be too persnickety and get a bee in your bonnet because I've been pretty tuckered out and at sea lately because I'm no spring chicken.  I haven't been just stringin' around and I know I'm not the only duck in the pond, but I do have too many irons in the fire. I might just be barking at a knot, but I have tried to give this article more than just  

A LICK & A PROMISE!

 

Preparing to Party

So, I figured out that if I attach a tune to a multiplication fact, Mike remembers it. Seven times six is forty-two – sung to the tune of “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho.” Eight times eight is sixty-four – sounds just like “Bille Jean.” Wonder what made me think of that?!

 

We have done a ton of work today, and it was about 96 degrees. I so wish I was kidding. I got up and did everything outside early, well, except for errands. I cleaned my room. Alesia cleaned her room and bathroom, without a word.

 

I asked Michael to clean his room. He came in every 5 minutes whining, “I don’t know how to clean! I need help!”

 

“Michael, first get everything off the floor. Next, pile all the junk on the bed. Then decide what needs to be put away and what needs to be thrown away. Put away what needs to be stored, in a drawer or your closet. Make sure your shoes are out of the floor."

Another time he came in complaining. I was so exasperated. I was trying to wrestle dust bunnies in my room, and scrub the bathroom. I finally said “Michael, you need to learn how to clean. When you have your own apartment one day you will learn that young women don’t like guys who keep a nasty, messy place.”

 

To my surprise, he turned around, and resumed working on his room. I think adolescence is starting to take hold. His voice is changing. His legs are getting hairy. He is starting to notice girls. Lord help us.

 

After making another run to the grocery store, and eating a quick lunch, I sent the kids to the pool. So I had a couple of free hours. I should napped or read. What did I do? Surfed the net. Computer addiction looms.

 

Our movie tonight was Paul Blart: Mall Cop. I didn’t think it was all that funny. However, it’s a safe movie for kids. No bad language or excessive violence. I actually liked the “making of” stuff a lot better than the film itself.

 

I am dead tired. I am pleased that about 90% of the housecleaning is done, and tomorrow I can get the kids to finish cleaning and I can fix food, and hopefully the party should be a success…

 

Multiplication Drama

We started two years ago telling Michael he had to learn his multiplication tables. He reluctantly started learning them. He just finished 5th grade. He should know them. I've bought him regular workbooks, special workbooks, computer games, handheld games, flashcards, even a video of someone SINGING the multiplication tables and does he know them?! No. Not entirely.

I took Alesia to therapy today and while I was gone I told Michael to work on some workbook pages with Granny. When I cam back, she told me they spent a lot of time on ONE long division problem, which he screwed up because he didn't know his multiplication tables. At one point he refused to do what she asked him to do. She was furious. I got irritated, to say the least.

At lunch, Mother and I took turns trying to explain to him about the multiplication tables being the building blocks for long division, how he has to know them to do well in school, etc. He sat there stone-faced.

I took Michael upstairs to my room after lunch and told him we were going to work on multiplication tables. I used flashcards. We tried repeating. We tried writing. I tried singing little songs about multiplication. I was very calm, and tried to make the whole thing like a game.

After less than 30 minutes, he informed me he couldn't remember any more and he would never know them.

"I can't remember!" he wailed, like a baby.

I gritted my teeth and said quietly, "Michael, you know them all except these 14. You need to study those. You can't watch TV until you know them."

"What?!" he exclaimed.

"Michael, I have tried everything I know to do. I've bought games, books, workbooks, flashcards, you name it. Granny has tried, Alesia has tried, I have tried - we've all tried to help you. You simply HAVE to learn these, now."

"I can't! I can't remember!" he pouted.

"OK, since you have that attitude, then no pool and no Nintendo, until you learn these final 14 multiplication facts."

He pouted. He sulked. He curled up in his laundry basket and read a wrestling magazine.

At one point he went outside and was beating a stick on the ground so hard I heard it in my room.

Finally, he came back to my room and we worked on some more multiplication facts. He still can't remember all of them. I'm offering incentives, though - internet computer time, and even viewing of a wrestling DVD from Netflix. He has to study though. He has to drill every day.

Meantime, I am trying to write a song about all the multiples of 7. Any ideas??

Reassurances

Michael played so hard yesterday, he has been pretty subdued all day. He wouldn’t go with me to walk this morning.

 

We got a lot of housecleaning chores accomplished. We cleaned out the coat closet, which is more trouble than it appears, because it’s a large walk-in closet under the stairs and we tend to just toss junk in there. We gave a lot of coats to Goodwill, that we don’t ever wear. In Georgia you only need a coat a few months of the year.

 

We have an antique tea cart that was my grandmother’s, and it has a glass tray in the top. Well, the glass was broken many months ago, and I finally just lifted out the tray and we took it to the hardware store to be fixed. I hope the guy can fix it. We have a wonderful, locally owned hardware store in Tucker, and it has everything in the world. It ain’t Home Depot, but since I no longer work for Home Depot, I don’t feel guilty about going into Handy Hardware!

 

This afternoon I spent a lot off time getting my room cleaned and reorganized. Since I am working from home at the moment, in my own way, I set up my desk in a more professional way – well, except for the pink screen cleaning bunny that stays atop my computer monitor…

 

Heard from a couple of folks who are planning to come to my book signing party Sunday, which is great.  Mother and I are planning the food. I tried making her shrimp spread recipe tonight but it was nowhere near as good as mom’s, even with her sitting there telling me what to put in! grrrr….

 

Our movie tonight was a personal favorite of mine, A League of Their Own. Alesia had seen it before but Michael had not. Even though Tom Hanks was cast against type as a curmudgeon, he is very sexy in that role. I realized when I was watching that it was one of Tea Leoni’s first films – she plays a Racine player. It’s also fun to spot old Penny Marshall buddies like David Lander and Eddie Mekka. I like the fact she puts her friends in her films.

 

It was so bizarre to hear that Farrah Fawcett was dead, and almost at the same time, that Michael Jackson was dead. That will cause a circus in L.A., which is sad. His children don’t need that.

 

Michael has been pretty clingy lately. I think he is feeling insecure with me not working. This afternoon he wouldn’t leave my room so I could finish getting it clean. I finally had to sit him down and ask him if he was feeling upset or nervous. He denied it. When his birthmom lost jobs, though, it meant they wouldn’t have a place to live, or anything to eat. I reassured him that we will be fine, that I can provide, and if we have difficulties, Bruce can help. We’re a family. We help each other. I held him for a few minutes and patted his back, and tried to be as loving and reassuring as possible. We shall see..

My dad had a great way of reassuring me. I wish he was here to comfort Mike. This is a great photo of him, because he looks relaxed and happy...

A Small Favor

I know some of you out there are reading Adopting Alesia, and I am very appreciative of your support. There are a couple of lovely reviews of the book on Amazon, but I need some folks to post reviews on the Barnes & Noble site. Books that get positive reviews sell better. I am still buzzing around the internet trying to drum up interest in the book, teaching myself how to market.

Amazon is still listing it as shipping in one to three weeks. The B&N site ships it within 24 hours. Of course, if you want one autographed you can get it directly from me.

So if you've read the book, please put a review on B&N, OK? It doesn't have to be a long one, just say it's the best book you've ever read! LOL

I meant to post this yesterday but forgot. This is Alesia at the botanical gardens a few years ago.

 

Running Rings Around Me

I got up this morning and woke Michael up to walk with me, since he got plenty of sleep last night. We didn’t walk that far, but it was a bit easier than yesterday. Michael kept saying “Mom, you’re slow!” To which I replied, “I’m 46 and fat. You’re 12. Duh.”

 

He took off running several times, and circled back to me.

 

He spent most of the day with my friend Carrie and her family. Her son Clay is a buddy. They went down to the Atlanta botanical gardens, which are beautiful, and when I asked him what he did, he replied “We played tag!”

 

“Did you happen to notice the Henry Moore sculptures there?”

 

He looked abashed. “Uh, yes?”

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.....

I call this shot, Elvis on a Bad Hair Day - hope you find it as funny as I do..

 

Alesia and I hit Goodwill this morning and found some bargains. I got a beautiful solid wood Lexington end table for $45. It’s small enough to fit beside the table I use as a desk, and I can store some things in it. I have got to clean my room soon. It’s really messy and I hate mess.

 

We also found some VCR tapes of movies, including The Firm, and A League of Their Own. When we’ve watched all our Netflix movies, I like to have backups. We have about 120 movies.

 

I also found some really nice photo frames. One beautiful 5x7 frame was a retailed price of $20, still in the box, never used, and I got it for $8. I put in the studio photos of the kids I got made a couple of weeks ago.

 

Since we got the air conditioner on the second floor fixed, the house has been a lot more pleasant. It’s still very hot outside – highs in the 90’s. I have done a lot of sweating, even early in the morning, lately. Atlanta in June.

 

Both my kids have birthdays in July, but I am trying to watch my $$. I found several things for Alesia on E-Bay. We found her some tennis shorts at Goodwill for $3.85.

 

Alesia and I had an argument late this afternoon about a boy she wants to call. I told her no, and she got upset. It was difficult to explain to her my reasoning because she was scrunched into the corner of the bed, with the corners over her head.. She still acts like a child, emotionally. I can’t reason with her like an adult, oftentimes. 

She was in a better mood after dinner and a movie.

Changing Grooves

When big changes happen for me, when my life turns a corner, it always takes me time to process it. I always run around frantically for a while, then I settle into a different groove. I feel like I started settling in today.

 

I was sitting on my neighbor’s deck late this afternoon having a nice chat, and I thought, I like being here. I like that I took the kids to the movie this afternoon, and we polished silver this morning, and it’s a beautiful day, and I am at peace.

 

I got up this morning and walked. It wasn’t a long walk, and I should’ve gotten up earlier and done it, but I walked. I am starting to feel like myself again. I am starting to remember how I was before I became frantic to make a living and fit my kids into the margins of the day and still be a good mom.

 

Every working mom has this dilemma. You desperately want to be with your kids, and yet you miss “me time.” You want to do well at your career, but you really want to be able to help with homework and not be exhausted. You miss drinking a cup of tea in the morning, in your bathrobe. You miss walking outside to cut flowers. You miss the joy of having a dog snuggle in your lap, totally at peace, without feeling like there’s something else you should be doing. You miss sitting down and reading a book.

 

I don’t know how working women sustain marriages and kids. I couldn’t do it. I’m always going to choose my kids over everyone and everything else.

 

We saw the new Sandra Bullock movie, The Proposal. It was fun, but not particularly noteworthy. I loved the fact it was filmed in Alaska. Then I came home and Googled the film location and found out it was actually filmed near Gloucester Mass. So much for that Alaskan fantasy.  

 

I decided to do something different for dinner. I have gotten tired of our food routine. So I made a pasta salad. I cooked some beautiful vegetable bowtie pasta, and tossed it with some mayo, bite-sized chicken chunks cooked with lemon juice and fresh pepper, minced squash from the garden, fresh chives and basil, and fresh shaved parmesan. I also threw in some onion powder, and the basil mixture you buy in a tube. (If I were a purist I would’ve used all fresh herbs, but I’m not one to get uptight about that stuff.) I would’ve used some fresh sesame oil if I’d had any. (I can tolerate it in some things, not everything. Once it turns bad, it’s revolting.) The dish was delicious. Michael ate 3 platefulls of the pasta salad. Alesia and Mother had made the fruit salad we all love, and we all had some of that. So it was a light but very tasty dinner.

 

Alesia cleaned out the big closet that holds most of our food, this morning. Late this afternoon, while Mike had his tennis lesson, she helped me gather up all the empty boxes in the garage and put them out for the recycling pickup in the morning. She didn’t complain. I asked Mike after dinner to load up a few dishes into the dishwasher and he declared that was Alesia’s job. He refused. I pointed out she had helped with the recycling, which is really his job, without complaint. He still refused. So I told him he could just go on to bed.

 

I parked myself on the couch and watched a girly movie (Serendipity) with Alesia, but I fretted about sending him to bed early. He had to have a consequence for his refusal, though. I couldn’t let him get away with it. It marred an otherwise nice day…

Michael has been very clingy with me since I got laid off. I reassured him today, he doesn't need to worry. He still wants to be right by me, though, the velcro kid. He gets on my nerves, but he is a love.

Remember I said Bruce is supposed to take the kids camping next week? This is where they are going, Amicalola Falls State Park in North Georgia. I remember going there as a kid. I am starting to envy them...

Growing Boy

We finally got some thunderstorms late this afternoon, and some rain, hallelujah. We needed it, after the boiling hot weekend.

 

Of course, it rained right about the time I was out running around inviting people to my Open House and Book Signing this weekend. Then I ran out of invitations and had to print out more. The kids helped me. I got them some frozen custard as a thank you.

 

I think Michael is growing again. We had “fallout” dinner – which means whatever falls out of the fridge or cupboard, you eat – basically leftovers or sandwiches. I had a bowl of cereal. Alesia decided she wanted pancakes. Tonight at dinner Mike ate an entire plate of beefaroni, then pancakes, then a big bowl of something Russians call “gretchka”? (Looks a bit like bulgar wheat.) He could not get filled up. Alesia ate a big plate of pancakes, but Mike ate more. I will measure him soon.

 

My brother called last night and confirmed he is taking the kids camping next week. He is going to try and teach them some outdoors type of skills. I hope the kids enjoy it, and it’s not too hot. They will be in the North Georgia mountains. Bruce used to never camp – he said it was too much like field exercises in the army – but he’s enthusiastic, now. I think having two kids to take along is a big factor in that.

 

We had to make a grocery store run this morning, and then to the post office. I am becoming a regular at the post office, but that’s OK. I don’t mind sending autographed books to folks. It tickles me that people are reading the book, and so far all the reviews are positive.

 

We watched an excellent movie tonight, Something The Lord Made . It stars the wonderful Alan Rickman, doing a southern accent. He didn’t butcher it too bad. The role was tailor-made for him – an arrogant doctor. It’s based on a true story of a pioneering black medical technician who had the skills of a surgeon and pioneered heart surgery, but had to deal with a lot of prejudice, including some from Rickman's character. It’s a quiet movie, with excellent performances. Excellent teaching movie.

 

I spoke to a cousin of mine who promised to send some writing work my way. I don’t want to reveal more because it’s not a done deal yet, but I am hoping I can make a career change. It’s a big leap of faith. I’ve always wanted to be a full-time writer, but most folks have to have a paying job. I never wanted to teach, unlike most writers.

I want to write. I feel that’s my greatest talent. Of course, if I have to go back to being a paralegal to make ends meet, I won't fuss about it.

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A big THANK YOU goes to several people who are helping me publicize my book: Cindy LaJoy, Suzanne Kamata, and Hallie Twomey. Head over to Hallie's site Wonderful World of Wieners asap and make a donation to her charity, and you will be registered to win one of a boatload of very cool prizes. Thanks, guys!