Monday, April 27, 2009

A Gentle Reminder


I know what you're thinking. Is that her ass? No! It is décolletage. I do not usually share photos of my bosom but I needed a visual aid for this little story...


When I divorced my first husband, I did not feel as free and easy as I'd imagined I would. I did not dance a jig. I did not live every day with gusto. I sank into a dark depression. I entertained thoughts of ending it all. I made very poor choices. This tattoo was the least of the bad choices but just as lasting.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love two out of three of my tattoos. And as you know, Meatloaf says two out of three ain't bad. I have one on each ankle and I like to catch a glimpse of one of them from time to time. It reminds me of my youth when I was tough and rowdy. But the one on my left breast...it reminds me of bad times.

I wanted a phoenix. I wanted a normal life again. I wanted to rise from the ashes. Trouble was, the guy didn't have a phoenix. And to compound the problem, neither of us were sober. What to do? It felt like the end of the world. I grabbed a sharpie and sketched a dove going down in flames. He said he liked it and I perked up. I sort of wanted to sleep with him. He said he would do the tattoo for $35. On a whim, I told him to add the word "Survivor" and that was that. He asked what I'd survived and I said, "my ex-husband." I never did sleep with the tattoo guy and I never have been pleased with the tattoo.


Many times since I did rise from my ashes, I've wondered what on earth I was thinking. People mistake it to say "Saviour" or if they do read it correctly, they ask if I'm a big Beyonce fan. Recently, Joe has started to tease me about these guys. If he sings Eye Of The Tiger to me one more time, I swear I will be forced to do something drastic!



I guess if you think about it just right, it has become a symbol of all I've endured and a whole lot of self-made trouble. A symbol, not only of a failed marriage but of all the poor decisions one can make along the way. And maybe even a symbol of how one can rise above anything.

Even a bad tattoo.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Freezer Living

I thought I'd share another gem from Crazy Aunt Shirley's stash. This is a booklet that came with a Sears freezer back in the late 60's. Check out the lady's dress/robe. It's hard to tell from the picture but it's deep purple in color and she is translucent. That's why she seems to have fruits and veggies on her dress and seems to be resting her left hand on a chicken. Gotta love trippy sixties graphic design!




Here is a little introductory excerpt...

Dear Homemaker:
Each time you store food in your Coldspot freezer during the coming months and years, it will be very much like depositing money in your Bank savings account- storing it up toward some special goal. Your Coldspot freezer is a Time bank that lets you deposit extra time in the form of future meals prepared on the days you have time to cook, and allows you to withdraw that time later for civic or public service activities, special family outings, shopping trips- or a leisurely weekend without the drudgery of meal preparation.


Hmmmm. This idea of a Time Bank is ingenious! Ohhhhh, if only I could put my civic and public service activities and special family outings and shopping in the freezer....

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Odds And Ends

I'm going to prattle on in this one. I want you to be prepared...

Yesterday, I filled out an online application and sent in my resume and a cover letter for part-time home health care. A company in town is advertising for LPN's which was unheard of a few years ago. I guess they're having trouble staffing RN's. Anyway, they said they had "flexible scheduling" and that's what I need. My parents take a vacation from us for the summer and I stay home with the kids. They deserve that and I want them to have time to themselves. But we need money and I thought I could take advantage of the summer months to work some evenings and weekends. We'll see how it goes.

I received an invitation to "Muffins with Mom" for Sam's class the first of May. I balk at these things. Do you? I know how proud they are to have a parent at school for something special but I cannot bring myself to like any of the parents. Maybe "like" is not the word. I feel SO very different from them. They use the term "sahm" a lot. I wish I could "sah" but I can't. I feel that they look down on me because I work. I take the tiniest bit of offense when one of the classmate's moms walks up and says, "Hi! I'm Sally Sue. I'm a sahm. Joe Bob is my son. What do you do?" and I say that I work as a nurse. Then I get The Look. I never know how to interpret The Look. Disapproval? Pity? Superiority? I don't know. Next time it happens though, I'm going to say, "Oh. I'm Kim. Sam is my son. I'm a ftwm." That's full time working mom, for those who need it all spelled out. Ugh. I don't like to show my claws. The point is, I'm going to leave work and go to Muffins with Mom and then come back to work. In the meantime, I'll cook up some nice anxiety to go with those muffins.

I am team captain for our Relay For Life team at work this year. I've enjoyed my involvement VERY much. I was once terrified of AIDS but now, since Joe is the only one I give it up to, I worry mostly about cancer. I'm an equal opportunity worrier though. I include my entire family on the roster. Our team has managed to raise over $1,000 so far and that's very impressive considering we are located in a more disadvantaged area of town and the financial climate. We are having a yard sale this weekend and the walk is the next weekend. I can't wait. I received a thank you card in the mail yesterday from American Cancer Society for volunteering. It was very nice and it made me feel really good.

That's about all I can think of right now.

OH! I have one recommendation! I tried a bag of Archer Farms Baked Rosemary Garlic potato chips the other night and they were the best chips EVER! They are more the texture and consistency of Pringles and I have no idea how much they cost. I was hungry and it was an impulse buy. I'd planned to make fun of them on the blog. But I can't. They were delicious. Try some.

Now, I'm finished.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Zoe Ilene

Her name is Greek.
 It means "Life Light".

*I've been admiring fellow blogger's kids' names. (Did I do that right? Lot's of possesive apostrophes and such.) So I thought, "Zoe's name is Greek. I'll share that." And I love posting photos of her wonderful eye lashes!*

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Let's Pretend I Bought Them...








I have reached my picture-buying quota for this school year.
So we'll just enjoy them here, together in cyberspace, shall we?


Monday, April 20, 2009

Outta Here!



Barely hanging on....

VS.

Gone with the wind....








Poor guy just can't seem to stay awake for these weekday evening games.
Neither can his sister.


I say next year we save the registration fee and cost of uniforms and just stay home and nap the whole time!


Disturbing Encounters With The Third Reich

US Anti-German Iron Cross Propaganda Broadside Poster, World War II

In the course of my job today, I encountered a man wearing a T-shirt that said something about supporting your local iron cross. I've seen him here and there and he's always been perfectly "nice". I looked at it and looked back down. Then I looked back up and took the whole thing in. He caught me looking and engaged me with some very meaningful eye contact. The rule is anyone entering the building must wear a visitor's sticker. we have orange and white stickers. He passed over the orange sticker and picked up the other as he said, "I'll get a WHITE sticker. It will match my shirt ::winkwinknudgenudge::" He grinned at me broadly. (Ironically, the shirt was black with white lettering.) Yeah, I got the point and it made me feel a little sick to my stomach, to tell you the truth. My suspicions were confirmed when I looked out to see them driving away with their bumper covered in "white power" stickers.

I mentioned this interaction to a coworker and she said the same thing I did. 
She said, "He's always been really nice to me!"
I said, "Well, we're white."

Truth is, I am white and I am appalled. But....really....how should one handle such a thing? I teach my kids to be tolerant. I teach them we are all human. I teach my kids to get love and understanding where they can.

What do I teach my kids about this guy?

*Why is this font so incredibly small? What did I do? Is this too heavy for my blog?*

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Playing In The Dirt


I am very proud to announce the garden is underway. We planted it a week or so ago. It's not really all in one place but that's okay. We planted both yellow squash and zucchini around back where we had the cucumbers last year. It's a happy spot for cucumbers and squash.

The asparagus and Japanese eggplant are in the shorter raised bed. It was the mum bed but only two of them survived the winter this year. So out with the mums and in with the zinnia and columbine bulbs....and assorted veggies. I've no luck with asparagus. Just so you know now.

In the long raised bed, we have planted gobs of stuff. Lettuces, such as: Bibb, Romaine, Salad bowl, and Great Lakes are in there...along with carrots, radishes, leeks and ...

::drumroll:: 

Kohl Rabi!!!!

I know nothing of Kohl Rabi except how to eat it. Hopefully, it will do well and I will be the toast of my garden club, which mainly consists of the kids, myself and my folks. OH! We also planted Fernleaf dill, sage, marjoram, mint, oregano, chives and the parsley somehow managed to live all winter in a sheltered spot.

Now, onto the photos..


I'm not sure what this is. We broadcast the radish and lettuce seeds.
Then Zoe pulled up all the markers and ran off with them.
But whatever it is, it's tiny and green and there are billions of them.

Okay, maybe not billions.




What do you mean, you can't see them? Fine then. 
Here's another photo of a different area, if you aren't happy with the first.


Well, I admit it isn't much to look at now but it will be.
We just have to have patience.

It's a virtue.

Renaissance Festival 2009

Yesterday, we loaded up and took ourselves to the Renn Fest in Fairburn. Melody invited us along with some other friends. We haven't gone since Sam was born so we thought it might be nice. Plus, it was opening weekend with a 2 for 1 ticket price. You just can't beat that.


As pictured, L-R: Joe, Sam, Me, Zoe, Kaitlyn


The slide was a big hit with Sam...at $3 a pop. 
There goes his free admission!



Zoe wasn't tall enough.
 She could only watch from behind the fence. 
You'll be big one day, baby.



Mike and Teal and Baby Syrin

Zoe looking a little uneasy about Syrin's distress. Pacifier to the rescue!









Goblin looooooooves Kaitlyn. 
Kaitlyn is Melody's very own offspring, by the way. 
Kaitlyn is out of diapers and both she and Mel enjoy that very much.

Zoe and Jack, the one-eyed pirate dog.





Per her "family photographer" role, Melody took all of these fabulous photos for us.
But we didn't get any of her! That's not fair!

Let's go back one day without children, Mel. We can pick up some men in tights.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Pressed Between The Pages Of My Mind

if i lay my head down 
i will see you in my dream
wearin that polka dot dress 
and sittin by the stream
leaning in to hear you
you will whisper in my ear
and everything i need to know 
i finally hear

i wish i could remember 
but my selective memory
won't let me

when i was a baby we would go
out to the park
and sit out in the fountain
and splash around until it's dark
days go on forever 
when you only know that much
and everything you need to know 
is answered with one touch

i wish i could remember 
but my selective memory
won't let me



- Selective Memory, Eels                                   

Friday, April 17, 2009

Back to Grandma's Garden



Last night, I lay in bed and while Joe spooned me, I looked out into the darkness of the room. The longer I lay there, the more wide awake I became. I began to think of myself as looking through the darkness and as I did that, memories of my grandmother's old house, drifted into my mind's eye. It is not uncommon that I think of her, but her spirit(?)has been ever present with me for weeks now. 

Joe came home from a trip to the hardware store just before my back began paining me, to find me in the attic and crying. I had gone up there looking for something. I wasn't sure of what it was. I just had a sense of needing to. When I reached the top of the steps, I saw her black purse sitting off to the side. Mom put it there when she died, 16 years ago. I opened it up, wondering what would be there. I knew they removed her important documents so I only expected to find some old coins. And I did. I found many old coins in many little change purses. I also found her headscarf and some bobby pins. I remember how old I thought the scarf made her look. She was old. I tied the scarf on and fastened it at the edges with hair pins. then I moved on to her wallet. It held two items. My grandfather's SS card and my eight grade school picture.

Still wearing her scarf, I lost my composure and sobbed. And this is how Joe found me, sitting up there in the attic. My mom is the youngest of ten children. I am the next to youngest of twenty-something grandchildren and almost fifty great-grandchildren. To find my picture and only my picture, well....I don't know how to word it....it triggered a very strong emotional response. She moved into a trailer on the back of our property when I was about eight years old. Until then, she lived about thirty miles away in the backwoods all alone. She came to need more supervision and that's when she came  to us full time. 

The old home place was one of my favorite places when I was very small. It holds many, many memories of good food, family, Sundays, cigarette smoke, white v-neck t-shirts and plants and flowers galore. She would plant anything in anything. When the toilet broke, she hauled it out there and planted it. She lived to plant and water and tend. She had chickens and hogs, too. Way back when...

That's what I began to think about lying in bed last night. As I focused more and more on remembering and concentrated on the darkness, I had the most powerful experience. It was as if I was transported back in time. I walked through that yard in my mind. I studied the two huge tractor tires planted in Marigolds and Forget- me-nots. I peered over into the large metal rainwater containers that flanked the screened porch. I swear I saw my reflection and the mosquito larvae wiggling on the surface. I walked into the house and through it. I smelled it. I felt it through and through. Huge tears rolled down my face and into my ears and my nose instantly became useless for doing anything but making snot. I lay there and struggled to "get a grip" and that's when Joe patted me and asked what was the matter. I told him it wasn't anything he'd done and that I was having a "tender moment" and needed a tissue. I wanted to explain it but I knew I would blubber and upset him if I tried. I went to the bathroom and washed my face and blew my nose. I came back to bed and even though I was wired just moments before, I fell into a swift, deep sleep.

Now, I'm not much for ghosts, spirits, angels, gods or devils. I believe in the power that I feel within myself. I have faith in myself and some of the people closest to me. I am human and I try my best to follow my instincts and do what feels right. But I will share some points of interest with you that may explain why I've just rattled off the description of my mind-meld-meltdown.

1. My mom will turn sixty-five this year. The same age as my grandmother when I was born. I can't help but compare them, they favor so. Although, my mom has aged much more gracefully. My grandma lived until I was eighteen and she was eighty-three. 

2. I've been compelled to plant this year. I've got a garden put in. I'm planting stuff in old totes and huge baskets and anything else that will hold some soil. 

3. This morning, I awoke feeling a little embarrassed. I explained to Joe it was just another one of my moments. As the day wore on, I felt more and more like myself. I told a couple of close co-workers about the experience. No one acted as if I was crazed. Then it dawned on me! My back felt amazing. I had not had so much as a tiny twinge all day. 

And I still haven't. No back pain today. None.
I told Joe on the way to the ball game that I wasn't sure but that I might have had some sort of religious experience. He nodded and said whatever worked for me. He was serious though and he knew what I meant. I felt as though I'd had some sort of breakthrough. Like something lifted that I never even knew was there. Or maybe something cracked wide ass open?

Only time will tell....

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Zoe And The Sewer Drain



This concludes this installment of "Zoe and the..."
I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

By the way, does anyone know if that last one is some sort of yoga pose?

You Don't Say!

I get emails from Pampers all the time. I'm sure it was something I signed up for after Zoe's birth. Every month a new email rolls in to tell me about diapering and/or potty training and developmental milestones. I read them religiously at first, when she was busy rejecting my breast but insisting on breast milk or when I thought her eczema was the worst diaper rash known to man, but I haven't read any of them lately. By lately, I mean in the last two years. I see them and just hit delete. Poof! No thinking, just doing.

This morning, as I scrolled through emails I saw it. It literally screamed at me from the screen. PAMPERS: YOUR CHILD IS 34 MONTHS OLD.I couldn't stop staring at it, mouth agape. I wondered how my baby could be 34 months old. That's two months shy of three years old. Nuh uh! Oh, no ma'am. My baby isn't three years old! Then I realized the subject line had changed somewhere along the way from "Your Baby" to "Your Child"...

It seems she's grown from infant to toddler to preschooler in the blink of an eye. Her babyhood is long gone. I think of time as a river. Collectively, the river of time is deep and wide but today, just for me, it is shallow and swift as I watch it suck the sand from beneath my toes.



*The photo above was taken at the end of my eigth month of pregnancy with Zoe. I always wore my gold dipped peanut when I was pregnant. Joe took to calling it "The Golden Turd" but I could not be deterred from wearing it. You could shake it a little and hear the tiny little dried peanuts rattle around inside. I'm all about me some symbolism.*

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

On the Ball

Let's talk about my back pain. It's better now than when it started but it's worsening. I think this means my steroids are wearing off and I know I am out of muscle relaxers and pain pills. The thing is, I don't want a temporary fix. I enjoyed the happy pills but they make me feel like I'm disconnected from everyone around me. The muscle relaxers must relax my cardiac sphincter in my stomach because they give me heart rending indigestion. I hope to find some things that work for my problem. I want to cope with this twinging, spasming, hurty feeling in my lower back.

I've made an appointment for an MRI. That should be fun. And I've asked for tips and pointers from fellow back pain sufferers and highly trained medical professionals. I've also thought about what I believe to be part of the trouble. First, I am carrying entirely too much weight on my frame. I can't blame my poor spine for believing I am nine months pregnant. Second, I know I am weak and I need to strengthen my core muscles. I also know I should guard against injury and avoid picking up my babies. They are no longer babies at 35 and 45 pounds.

I know how to lose the weight. I know how to do it properly. I don't know what's wrong inside my head that causes this struggle with my weight. I love to feel better and look better and I always enjoy my "smaller" times much more. So why? I'm not sure but I have some suspicions. Maybe I'll tell you before it's all over...

The exercising and strengthening all the while guarding against injury shouldn't be that difficult, right? I've already learned from Melody that people are using stability balls as chairs to prevent or correct lower back pain. I decided to have a look-see at some pictures.




This is the standard stability ball. And it's orange!




Whoah, honey! What are you doing to your stability ball chair? Should I look away? I don't know what she's doing to it but this chair/ball looks neat. No chance of dozing off and falling with this!





Heck! Even preschool students are getting in on the act...



This thing is called a seating disc and is for employees to use when they have bosses who refuse to acknowledge how serious chronic back pain can be. These bosses are only worried about the possibility of falls and injuries and could care less about what actually hurts RIGHT NOW! It doesn't look very fun or exciting and cannot be used as a toy when not in use as a chair.



After exploring all my options, I find this last one is the most appealing to me. But only because I want to be four years old again. I had no back pain at age four. I had no pain at all.


Those were the days...

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Not To Seem Ungrateful But...



Grandma used to say, "Sometimes help becomes a hindrance" and she always said it when I had my hands in the biscuit dough with her. Oh, I wanted to help so badly and she always let me. It went right over my head back then but not now. Now I get it.

My radio in the people mover isn't working. It was working but then after the lady tried unsuccessfully to jump me off at Wal-mart, it wasn't. And it still isn't.

I thought I could live without it. It's just a radio after all. My drive lasts 20 minutes to work. Who can't live without a radio for 20 minutes? Me, that's who! I can't live without it. I'm addicted to NPR. I admit it. It turns out, NPR is truly a pleasure and I cannot enjoy my drive without it.

I'm going to check the fuse today. Maybe she just blew the fuse. Wouldn't that be a nice, easy thing to fix?

Now...

Where is the fuse located?

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Your Beard Is Good











I had a great time at the Flight Of The Conchords' show last night. It was a pretty young and hip crowd with the exception of about 16 rednecks who called out "Freebird" here and there and generally got on my nerves. They opened with "Too Many Dicks On The Dancefloor". These photos were either taken by me or Melody while driving into Atlanta. The dark ones at the end are from my camera phone inside the theater. Cameras were outlawed and they threatened to "Call the cops" on a couple in front of us if they didn't "delete that" at once! The cops are everywhere, man.

But the absolute highlight of my evening was Mel's GPS in her car. Oooooooohhhhhhh. Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh. It was a lovely gadget and now I want one, too.