So after the little ones go to bed, Corey decides to have movie night with me, and pops in his movie Dogma. So funny to go from the light hearted Curious George to the darker albeit just as funny Dogma.
I could do without the swearing and the three hockey players scare the heck out of me. But what a funny funny movie....faith is serious but everything else is up for grabs.
Julie was annoyed the other day when she heard a song on regular radio whose chorus went "Closing the ^&* damn door." That's right, damn is sung but God is bleeped out.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Movie Night
Tonight we are going to watch the Curious George movie while Donnie and Tim are off at the hockey rink. The kids want to make the living room like a movie theater which means they want to shut off all the lights. This of course puts me at risk for dozing off as I just worked the past two night shifts. But lights off it will be.
Was thinking about how fast they grow. Mary and Matthew picked out their wedding rings today. Corey was at his work orientation training.
So to sit with Yon, Julie, Nikki, and Joe and watch the curious little monkey do his thing, it is a nice throwback sort of evening.
Joe has his dinosaur stuffed animals all lined up to watch with him. Nikki has her hair all picked out aka Diana Ross. It stands about a foot from her head when picked out in all its glory. The kids all want her to go to school looking like that but she is too shy to. So she has it all picked out now while no one but her sibs can see her.
Julie and Yon are in each rocking chair, one that was my Momma's and one that was my Nana's. They giggle out loud at all the silly monkey antics.
How can it be that soon I will have no one to watch Curious George with? When do mommy urges go away?
Was thinking about how fast they grow. Mary and Matthew picked out their wedding rings today. Corey was at his work orientation training.
So to sit with Yon, Julie, Nikki, and Joe and watch the curious little monkey do his thing, it is a nice throwback sort of evening.
Joe has his dinosaur stuffed animals all lined up to watch with him. Nikki has her hair all picked out aka Diana Ross. It stands about a foot from her head when picked out in all its glory. The kids all want her to go to school looking like that but she is too shy to. So she has it all picked out now while no one but her sibs can see her.
Julie and Yon are in each rocking chair, one that was my Momma's and one that was my Nana's. They giggle out loud at all the silly monkey antics.
How can it be that soon I will have no one to watch Curious George with? When do mommy urges go away?
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Who wants to play "Who has a busy day?"
6:00am- alarm goes off, quick shower, touch base with Corey, Julie, and Jamie, wake up Joe,
study for tests, eat breakfast, kiss my honey, wake up Nikki and out I go.
7:10- I drive Mary to get train ticket and drop her off and head to class.
8:00-1:30- Take two tests plus go over two tests in the other classes.
1:30-2:00- Drive on home and call Don to go over afternoon plans, eat bagged lunch.
2:00-2:40- bake brownies, start chicken, check mail, return calls, touch base with Yon, check
animals.
2:40-3:15- pick up Jamie from school and end up having to drive two of his friends home.
Just make Joe and Nikkis bus and then drop off Jamie's friend.
3:15-4:05- play Dogopoly with Nikki and Joe. Nikki practises her math by being the banker.
Help Jamie with his homework.
4:05-4:30- pick up Julie and Corey and check out their days.
4:30-5:00- Finish Dogopoly in a half hour that feels much much much longer than
thirty minutes.
5:00-5:30- cook dinner
5:30-5:45- eat
5:45-6:15- drive Jamie and Bambam to dog club
6:15-6:45- Help Nikki and Jow with homework
6:45-8:00-drive Yon over to Y on one side of Middleboro, drive to otherside of Middleboro
to get Jamie and Bambam then race back to other side of Middleboro to meet
Mary at train while touching base with Reenie about the shower.
8:00-8:45 finish homework help and then get three little kids to bed.
9:00- touch base with Yon, Tim, Mary, Corey, and Julie and then work on Psych homework
and wait for my Donnie who had a busy day of his own.
I win!!!!! Oh sh*t I forgot to run towels through the wash and dryer, grrrrr I will be back!
study for tests, eat breakfast, kiss my honey, wake up Nikki and out I go.
7:10- I drive Mary to get train ticket and drop her off and head to class.
8:00-1:30- Take two tests plus go over two tests in the other classes.
1:30-2:00- Drive on home and call Don to go over afternoon plans, eat bagged lunch.
2:00-2:40- bake brownies, start chicken, check mail, return calls, touch base with Yon, check
animals.
2:40-3:15- pick up Jamie from school and end up having to drive two of his friends home.
Just make Joe and Nikkis bus and then drop off Jamie's friend.
3:15-4:05- play Dogopoly with Nikki and Joe. Nikki practises her math by being the banker.
Help Jamie with his homework.
4:05-4:30- pick up Julie and Corey and check out their days.
4:30-5:00- Finish Dogopoly in a half hour that feels much much much longer than
thirty minutes.
5:00-5:30- cook dinner
5:30-5:45- eat
5:45-6:15- drive Jamie and Bambam to dog club
6:15-6:45- Help Nikki and Jow with homework
6:45-8:00-drive Yon over to Y on one side of Middleboro, drive to otherside of Middleboro
to get Jamie and Bambam then race back to other side of Middleboro to meet
Mary at train while touching base with Reenie about the shower.
8:00-8:45 finish homework help and then get three little kids to bed.
9:00- touch base with Yon, Tim, Mary, Corey, and Julie and then work on Psych homework
and wait for my Donnie who had a busy day of his own.
I win!!!!! Oh sh*t I forgot to run towels through the wash and dryer, grrrrr I will be back!
Monday, September 25, 2006
A tuxedo on order in a size 6...6 inches that is
We have been going over wedding stuff...its 2 months from today. Saturday we went to the florist. Monday was the photographer. This Wednesday we talk to the church lady about music and cake test on Thursday and then Matt and Mary pick out rings on Saturday.
In addition we have been furtively planning the shower and all its wonderous creations. Through it all various younger kids have helped or hindered the process. (I think Jamie gave away a vital shower clue, I know Donnie did geez.) Joe was talking about his duties as ring bearer and he had a sudden thought.
" Mary, Toothy is invited to the wedding, right?" Of course.
"Well what can he wear? Should he wear a tuxedo like me when he helps carry the rings?" I frantically shake my head no, in Mary's eyesight but out of Joes. "No Toothy no no, its ok" I mouth.
But Mary is looking at Joe and trying not to laugh.
"Of course he has to wear a tux Joe, come on lets go on line an order one." So the oldest Blauss and the youngest Blauss settle down in front of the computer and head for EBAY. In minutes they have a 12$ tux fit for a beany baby shipping and handling included.
I speak to Mary again when we are alone. Toothy can certainly wait out in the car or sit under the pew. But no Toothy will perch on Joes arm like a trained parrot, proudly wearing his tux.
Mary talks about how much fun she has had home this summer playing with Joe. He has lived with us for five years but has only just bonded to her.
Mary, everyone's favorite, physically resembles a woman who abused Joe. Even after Joe began to forgive women and bond to me and his other sisters, he still kept his distance from Mary. She went away to school and when she was home he barely interacted with her.
She noticed of course and did her best to bridge the gap. Joe was polite and mostly compliant.
But the big sister worship that the other kids always gave Mary as her due, was nonexistent from Joe.
But this summer Mary pulled out all the stops. She didnt accept Joe's distant politeness. She bribed, she cajoled, she appeared everywhere he was. And slowly he began to show her the inner Joe. The very bright, very funny, very endearing little boy.
So apparently Toothy will help carry the rings...
I ask Joe if he thinks we should give him a bath before the wedding. Joe looks at me doubtfully. "No I dont think so. After Toothy fell in the toilet this summer at the Capital building, he hasnt been too crazy about getting wet."
In addition we have been furtively planning the shower and all its wonderous creations. Through it all various younger kids have helped or hindered the process. (I think Jamie gave away a vital shower clue, I know Donnie did geez.) Joe was talking about his duties as ring bearer and he had a sudden thought.
" Mary, Toothy is invited to the wedding, right?" Of course.
"Well what can he wear? Should he wear a tuxedo like me when he helps carry the rings?" I frantically shake my head no, in Mary's eyesight but out of Joes. "No Toothy no no, its ok" I mouth.
But Mary is looking at Joe and trying not to laugh.
"Of course he has to wear a tux Joe, come on lets go on line an order one." So the oldest Blauss and the youngest Blauss settle down in front of the computer and head for EBAY. In minutes they have a 12$ tux fit for a beany baby shipping and handling included.
I speak to Mary again when we are alone. Toothy can certainly wait out in the car or sit under the pew. But no Toothy will perch on Joes arm like a trained parrot, proudly wearing his tux.
Mary talks about how much fun she has had home this summer playing with Joe. He has lived with us for five years but has only just bonded to her.
Mary, everyone's favorite, physically resembles a woman who abused Joe. Even after Joe began to forgive women and bond to me and his other sisters, he still kept his distance from Mary. She went away to school and when she was home he barely interacted with her.
She noticed of course and did her best to bridge the gap. Joe was polite and mostly compliant.
But the big sister worship that the other kids always gave Mary as her due, was nonexistent from Joe.
But this summer Mary pulled out all the stops. She didnt accept Joe's distant politeness. She bribed, she cajoled, she appeared everywhere he was. And slowly he began to show her the inner Joe. The very bright, very funny, very endearing little boy.
So apparently Toothy will help carry the rings...
I ask Joe if he thinks we should give him a bath before the wedding. Joe looks at me doubtfully. "No I dont think so. After Toothy fell in the toilet this summer at the Capital building, he hasnt been too crazy about getting wet."
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
My first college newspaper article lol
Twenty-five years after the start of my freshman year at BSC, I am beginning my senior year at BSC. 25 years of kids and jobs and experiences that make me look and feel far different than that young freshman.The campus itself looks and feels new and exciting, as well. Where the tennis courts used to be are now some dorms, a bookstore and a commuter cafeteria. The railroad bridge is now a railroad tunnel. The little muddy path, through the swampy woods, that we always illegally cut through to get from Hart to the rest of campus, is now a lovely gravel path with a stone bridge over the worst of the mucky bits.Fashions, however, have remained the same, or perhaps have come back in style. Just about all the co-eds are wearing jeans or chinos, which is the same now as then. The jeans do not appear quite as snug as in the early eighties, however. I remember one spring morning stepping knee deep in muck, wearing my oh- so- tight white jeans. These were the kind of jeans where you had to lay on the floor and have your sister help you zip them up. They looked great, not that I could eat while wearing them. But after that disastrous incident with the mud, I no longer cut through the Hart swamp shortcut!I have many of the same questions and concerns starting my senior year as I did back when I was eighteen. How challenging are the classes? Will my professors like me? What should I wear? Will what I learn be relevant?There are some marked differences. Maturity makes you feel more comfortable with who you are. Even if who you are, is a middle- aged mostly redhead, whose belly will just fit into the foolish chair- desk combos.When I started all those years ago, I was too shy to ask questions of the registrar, or admit to the financial aid office that I had no idea what to do. I can remember wandering about the cavernous Maxwell library, too intimidated to say "What and where or who is ERIC?"But this past when spring a series of miscommunications and changes within the college system regarding how reinstated students register caused me endless frustrating trips back and forth to BSC, I did not hesitate to fire off a four page letter to the office of the President.
Where years ago I was too shy to speak to the librarian, I now had no problem expressing to President Mohler-Faria my concern for the seeming insurmountable obstacles facing students trying to get back to BSC.Apparently, I was trying to reinstate just as BSC was instituting a new streamlined process to help students like me. I just happened to have the bad luck of trying to get back in before all the bugs were worked out!The President's office quickly called me back to let me know I was, indeed, accepted. Of course, in one of those ridiculous sitcom moments of life, the secretary left a message on my home answering machine.I heard the part of the message letting me know I was in, paperwork to follow. Then on behalf of President Mohler-Faria….well, I never heard the rest of the message. One of the kids had erased it.I stood staring at the machine. How do I call back the President and say, "By the way, what else did you want to let me know? The kids erased the machine. The cat ate my gym suit. The dog ate my homework." Oh, brother.Maybe we do not completely change from who we were 25 years ago. Needless to say, I was too embarrassed to call the President back.I meekly showed up to Reinstated Orientation and followed all the proper rules and procedures.I went to my first classes. I was indeed older than every single kid in my class. As a matter of fact, I am actually older than at least two of my teachers.I sat next to girls who have cool names like Whitney and Ashley. I learned how to drop/add classes. I still need to find out who my advisor is. I had better make friends with some math geeks quick. My first hour of Statistics had me break out into a cold sweat!I am going to have a great senior year. I have decided to fully make use of all the resources on campus, which means I will be brave enough to talk to the librarians! I am going to join some clubs. I want to go to a fraternity party, which I never did that the first time around.I want to write for The Comment. I would like to share with all my fellow BSC students the journey to my degree.I have benefited from my first three years at BSC. The courses in communication and psychology came in handy in my work with foster children and in substance abuse treatment. I overacted in Community Theater and put into practice those great acting tips Professor Art Dirks and Steve Levine tried to teach me.Who knows, perhaps I should try out for one of the BSC campus productions...
Where years ago I was too shy to speak to the librarian, I now had no problem expressing to President Mohler-Faria my concern for the seeming insurmountable obstacles facing students trying to get back to BSC.Apparently, I was trying to reinstate just as BSC was instituting a new streamlined process to help students like me. I just happened to have the bad luck of trying to get back in before all the bugs were worked out!The President's office quickly called me back to let me know I was, indeed, accepted. Of course, in one of those ridiculous sitcom moments of life, the secretary left a message on my home answering machine.I heard the part of the message letting me know I was in, paperwork to follow. Then on behalf of President Mohler-Faria….well, I never heard the rest of the message. One of the kids had erased it.I stood staring at the machine. How do I call back the President and say, "By the way, what else did you want to let me know? The kids erased the machine. The cat ate my gym suit. The dog ate my homework." Oh, brother.Maybe we do not completely change from who we were 25 years ago. Needless to say, I was too embarrassed to call the President back.I meekly showed up to Reinstated Orientation and followed all the proper rules and procedures.I went to my first classes. I was indeed older than every single kid in my class. As a matter of fact, I am actually older than at least two of my teachers.I sat next to girls who have cool names like Whitney and Ashley. I learned how to drop/add classes. I still need to find out who my advisor is. I had better make friends with some math geeks quick. My first hour of Statistics had me break out into a cold sweat!I am going to have a great senior year. I have decided to fully make use of all the resources on campus, which means I will be brave enough to talk to the librarians! I am going to join some clubs. I want to go to a fraternity party, which I never did that the first time around.I want to write for The Comment. I would like to share with all my fellow BSC students the journey to my degree.I have benefited from my first three years at BSC. The courses in communication and psychology came in handy in my work with foster children and in substance abuse treatment. I overacted in Community Theater and put into practice those great acting tips Professor Art Dirks and Steve Levine tried to teach me.Who knows, perhaps I should try out for one of the BSC campus productions...
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Everyone's Own Universe
I am in a frenzy of worry over my first big test tomorrow in Statistics. I have made my flashcards and I have worked on my practise problems. But I feel like I am studying a foreign language by memorizing it phonetically.
This worry and fretting could consume my every moment and should be of National importance, at least in my corner of the world. Instead I am just a little blip on the radar.
Joe had real worry last night and this morning and so he had no time for my minor panic. He could not find Toothy and feared he had left him outside in the rain. Morning came but still no Toothy as of the time a fretful Joe got on the school bus. I naturally dropped everything and scoured Joe's universe until I uncovered Toothy, safe and dry, scrunched up in the living room magazine rack.
Nikki had no time for me either as she was bitterly complaining while tidying up her bedroom. She is having a playdate come over today and really why should SHE have to clean the WHOLE house. She did mostly straighten her room and the living room. I stopped flash card making in order to scour the toilet and empty the kitty litter.
Corey had even less time for me. He bumped me off the computer in an effort to gather information to prove his English teacher wrong about some obscure and useless fact. The key thing to remember of course is that Corey is right and he must show this to the teacher who I am sure will appreciate being corrected by a 17 year old.
A kid Corey's age a few towns over dropped dead of unknown causes. Star athlete, sudden chest pain. The boy reminded me of the scare we went through with our own lanky boy earlier this year. But Corey has no time for gratefulness, he must gather his ammunition to prove his teacher wrong.
Tim has his cellphone off so he can focus on his school day. So I will have to buy milk for supper.
Mary arranged a flower consult for the wedding on Saturday. We both forgot that now I work Friday nights. So I guess I will sleep for two hours and then go.
Julie needs to be picked up and then dropped off. She needs a new sketch pad. Really Stats are easy mom....she gives me a quick tip about mode, mean, and median and then wants me to bring her to Borders.
Jamie knocks my flashcards over twice and wants to know why we cannot order pizza for supper and can he have a friend over.
Yon thinks his dog might die. He is after all eleven. I watch the beagle rifle through the trash and then sneak in and steal the cat food. He looks healthier than I do.
One of Margo's youth kids is struggling with brain cancer. Wanda at work is living out of her car as she races back and forth between hospital and relatives while her husband fights for his life.
Paleface races to trip people everytime they open the screen door. He wants out on this lovely Fall day.
Everyone has their own Universe of concern. The world revolves around ourselves. I wear my "Its all about Me" tshirt, that my Momma made. But really when was the last time it really was about me?
Momma died four years ago today. I sponge bathed her that last day. She was hooked up to all the machines with almost no brain function. I washed her body that last time. I wonder what she thought about when she gave me my first bath?
Dave unplugged the last machine like he promised. We stood at her side and waited. Just like we did the year before for Daddy. Her breath slowly, so slowly, stopped with a sigh. She never opened her eyes like Daddy did. The feeling of her leaving the room was the same like with Daddy. Dave and I looked at eachother. Then we walked out of the room. So very very alone.
I drove home alone. That was the last time it was about me...
This worry and fretting could consume my every moment and should be of National importance, at least in my corner of the world. Instead I am just a little blip on the radar.
Joe had real worry last night and this morning and so he had no time for my minor panic. He could not find Toothy and feared he had left him outside in the rain. Morning came but still no Toothy as of the time a fretful Joe got on the school bus. I naturally dropped everything and scoured Joe's universe until I uncovered Toothy, safe and dry, scrunched up in the living room magazine rack.
Nikki had no time for me either as she was bitterly complaining while tidying up her bedroom. She is having a playdate come over today and really why should SHE have to clean the WHOLE house. She did mostly straighten her room and the living room. I stopped flash card making in order to scour the toilet and empty the kitty litter.
Corey had even less time for me. He bumped me off the computer in an effort to gather information to prove his English teacher wrong about some obscure and useless fact. The key thing to remember of course is that Corey is right and he must show this to the teacher who I am sure will appreciate being corrected by a 17 year old.
A kid Corey's age a few towns over dropped dead of unknown causes. Star athlete, sudden chest pain. The boy reminded me of the scare we went through with our own lanky boy earlier this year. But Corey has no time for gratefulness, he must gather his ammunition to prove his teacher wrong.
Tim has his cellphone off so he can focus on his school day. So I will have to buy milk for supper.
Mary arranged a flower consult for the wedding on Saturday. We both forgot that now I work Friday nights. So I guess I will sleep for two hours and then go.
Julie needs to be picked up and then dropped off. She needs a new sketch pad. Really Stats are easy mom....she gives me a quick tip about mode, mean, and median and then wants me to bring her to Borders.
Jamie knocks my flashcards over twice and wants to know why we cannot order pizza for supper and can he have a friend over.
Yon thinks his dog might die. He is after all eleven. I watch the beagle rifle through the trash and then sneak in and steal the cat food. He looks healthier than I do.
One of Margo's youth kids is struggling with brain cancer. Wanda at work is living out of her car as she races back and forth between hospital and relatives while her husband fights for his life.
Paleface races to trip people everytime they open the screen door. He wants out on this lovely Fall day.
Everyone has their own Universe of concern. The world revolves around ourselves. I wear my "Its all about Me" tshirt, that my Momma made. But really when was the last time it really was about me?
Momma died four years ago today. I sponge bathed her that last day. She was hooked up to all the machines with almost no brain function. I washed her body that last time. I wonder what she thought about when she gave me my first bath?
Dave unplugged the last machine like he promised. We stood at her side and waited. Just like we did the year before for Daddy. Her breath slowly, so slowly, stopped with a sigh. She never opened her eyes like Daddy did. The feeling of her leaving the room was the same like with Daddy. Dave and I looked at eachother. Then we walked out of the room. So very very alone.
I drove home alone. That was the last time it was about me...
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Freud and other smarty pants
Just finished my first real homework assignment for school. (Reading and notetaking doesn't count lol.) It was about Freudian analysis with two case studies.
I was amazed rereading my Freud how much of his "stuff" we have incorporated in our lives. For instance, everyone knows what a Freudian slip is. But words like catharsis and insight, not to mention all those Oral or anal personality types all come from Freud.
Freud is amazing to me, that his mind was able to conceptualize and see solutions to problems that had never been offered before. He invented psychology really. And while his word choices horrified Victorian mindsets then and still give us pause today....phallic and penis envy... many of his conjectures have been proven with the knowledge gained in cognitive neuroscience.
Did you know that Einstein and Freud were good friends and had a lively correspondance? How do minds such as theirs form? And for all his great insight "Mr Oral" Freud died of mouth cancer from cigars he couldnt stop smoking.
Who are our Einsteins or Freuds of today? Who are our Mother Theresa's or Pope John Paul 2s?
I was amazed rereading my Freud how much of his "stuff" we have incorporated in our lives. For instance, everyone knows what a Freudian slip is. But words like catharsis and insight, not to mention all those Oral or anal personality types all come from Freud.
Freud is amazing to me, that his mind was able to conceptualize and see solutions to problems that had never been offered before. He invented psychology really. And while his word choices horrified Victorian mindsets then and still give us pause today....phallic and penis envy... many of his conjectures have been proven with the knowledge gained in cognitive neuroscience.
Did you know that Einstein and Freud were good friends and had a lively correspondance? How do minds such as theirs form? And for all his great insight "Mr Oral" Freud died of mouth cancer from cigars he couldnt stop smoking.
Who are our Einsteins or Freuds of today? Who are our Mother Theresa's or Pope John Paul 2s?
Monday, September 11, 2006
I'll Light The Fire
Its still September 11. We went outside to sit in the garden and get away from the images on tv. A fire blazes in the garden fireplace. Marshmellows are toasting on sticks and children - up late on a school night - are taking full advantage.
I briefly IMed my friend Ali. He is in Iran working on a reasearch project from Harvard. He was Mary's best friend from Brown. An Iranian -American from Long Island he has had his fair share of suspicous looks for his heritage.
We had him over the house for a cookout when he first befriended Mary. He is All American and yet of course he loves Iran. 9 11 is as horrible to him as to any caring citizen. Yet he has to keep his beard shaved and spend extra scrutiny at every airport. He understands, but still...
The kids amused him no end when he came to visit. And he and Corey hit it right off, and why not Corey is just like his own younger brother. He speaks of Iran, the beauiful mountain hikes and the museums, so rich in history. But will the kids ever be allowed there to see what Ali sees?
Ali will return home here to America to finish his studies at Brown to be a doctor. Return to a country who looks at this American boy with suspicion, because he speaks Farsi and cannot declare the country of his parents birth- the place where grandparents and cousins still live- as evil.
Wow brave -boyish Carver Firemen and a doctor- to- be who speaks Persian and loves both french fries and an enemy land. This has been a day of contrasts. I cry for the dead, for the missing, I miss my mom. I pray for the service men and the politicians.
But kids are getting louder/ Joe spins like a top. Nikki is all smiles knowing she is suppose to be in bed. Her cocaine damaged brain struggled to comprehend her homework tonight. She doesnt want to be a SPED kid. For a moment she is just a kid getting away with something. Normal.
But now, outside, where the crickets are noisily chirping. where the wind blows Fall, and the fire smells so so very sweet... what does 9 11 mean?
I think of Nikki this morning, "I don't understand..."
Donnie is playing his guitar and Julie shuffles the little kids off to bed. Donnie sings the songs of our courtship while strumming his guitar. He went to work and ate supper and cleaned the garden. Now he hopes for a promise to be kept tonight. He doesnt think of Carver firemen or my boy in Iran.
We all live amazing lives. God Bless America.
I briefly IMed my friend Ali. He is in Iran working on a reasearch project from Harvard. He was Mary's best friend from Brown. An Iranian -American from Long Island he has had his fair share of suspicous looks for his heritage.
We had him over the house for a cookout when he first befriended Mary. He is All American and yet of course he loves Iran. 9 11 is as horrible to him as to any caring citizen. Yet he has to keep his beard shaved and spend extra scrutiny at every airport. He understands, but still...
The kids amused him no end when he came to visit. And he and Corey hit it right off, and why not Corey is just like his own younger brother. He speaks of Iran, the beauiful mountain hikes and the museums, so rich in history. But will the kids ever be allowed there to see what Ali sees?
Ali will return home here to America to finish his studies at Brown to be a doctor. Return to a country who looks at this American boy with suspicion, because he speaks Farsi and cannot declare the country of his parents birth- the place where grandparents and cousins still live- as evil.
Wow brave -boyish Carver Firemen and a doctor- to- be who speaks Persian and loves both french fries and an enemy land. This has been a day of contrasts. I cry for the dead, for the missing, I miss my mom. I pray for the service men and the politicians.
But kids are getting louder/ Joe spins like a top. Nikki is all smiles knowing she is suppose to be in bed. Her cocaine damaged brain struggled to comprehend her homework tonight. She doesnt want to be a SPED kid. For a moment she is just a kid getting away with something. Normal.
But now, outside, where the crickets are noisily chirping. where the wind blows Fall, and the fire smells so so very sweet... what does 9 11 mean?
I think of Nikki this morning, "I don't understand..."
Donnie is playing his guitar and Julie shuffles the little kids off to bed. Donnie sings the songs of our courtship while strumming his guitar. He went to work and ate supper and cleaned the garden. Now he hopes for a promise to be kept tonight. He doesnt think of Carver firemen or my boy in Iran.
We all live amazing lives. God Bless America.
Firemen
Last week as I was pulling the van into a parking space at Cumberland Farms I noticed a brand new fire truck outside the Carver Central FD. Now I have very little interest in cars, I don't even know the make or models of mine (I have a green van and a white car.) But this fire truck was long and sleek and very shiny.
I was so captivated that I bumped over the curb. Very embarressing. I wanted to check out the truck up close but really how foolish would that be for a grown woman to gape over a new truck, and the hunky fireman next to it.
My friend Frank, who graduated high school with Mary and is now a Carver fireman told me all about the truck, when next I saw him. "Of course you should check it out, your tax dollars bought it. We drove it out front so everyone could see it."
So on 9 11 as I went to the high school to pick Julie up I again saw it out front and thought what the heck I will give it a look over.
A group of firemen, including the chief were going over it from top to bottom looking very important and knowledable. One of the guys (wow are all fireman gorgeous?) broke away from the group and met me with a smile.
Certainly the little boys could check out the truck. My two sons and a friend's little boy climbed up and down and in and out full of noise and energy. The men continued their discussions not the least bothered by the kids and their enthusiasm. The fireman proudly answered my questions and told me everything I could ever possibly want to know about the truck.
We go to every fire department Open House because first Jamie and then Joe had a thing about firemen. I swear we have won about five smoke detectors! When 9 11 first happened, Jamie (who was 8) wrote to our own fireman. He was confused about the tragedy and wanted to make sure his Carver fireman were ok and not hurt or sad. His letter was framed and hung up at the South Carver Firestation. It might still be there. I never did see it. I heard it meant a lot to the guys.
Our town has two paid fireman and the rest are volunteers. I watched the men go over their new truck. I marveled at their childlike excitement over all the bells and whistles. The thought that these same men who were like kids with a new toy would without hesitation rush into a burning building....well, what do you say?
I got the boys back into the van after they had their fill. They thanked the firemen and even the chief stopped to wave. Some people are amazing.
The flag was at half mast. All the fire vehicles shiny and polished in the sun. A beautiful fall day, like that nightmarish morning 5 years ago.
I was so captivated that I bumped over the curb. Very embarressing. I wanted to check out the truck up close but really how foolish would that be for a grown woman to gape over a new truck, and the hunky fireman next to it.
My friend Frank, who graduated high school with Mary and is now a Carver fireman told me all about the truck, when next I saw him. "Of course you should check it out, your tax dollars bought it. We drove it out front so everyone could see it."
So on 9 11 as I went to the high school to pick Julie up I again saw it out front and thought what the heck I will give it a look over.
A group of firemen, including the chief were going over it from top to bottom looking very important and knowledable. One of the guys (wow are all fireman gorgeous?) broke away from the group and met me with a smile.
Certainly the little boys could check out the truck. My two sons and a friend's little boy climbed up and down and in and out full of noise and energy. The men continued their discussions not the least bothered by the kids and their enthusiasm. The fireman proudly answered my questions and told me everything I could ever possibly want to know about the truck.
We go to every fire department Open House because first Jamie and then Joe had a thing about firemen. I swear we have won about five smoke detectors! When 9 11 first happened, Jamie (who was 8) wrote to our own fireman. He was confused about the tragedy and wanted to make sure his Carver fireman were ok and not hurt or sad. His letter was framed and hung up at the South Carver Firestation. It might still be there. I never did see it. I heard it meant a lot to the guys.
Our town has two paid fireman and the rest are volunteers. I watched the men go over their new truck. I marveled at their childlike excitement over all the bells and whistles. The thought that these same men who were like kids with a new toy would without hesitation rush into a burning building....well, what do you say?
I got the boys back into the van after they had their fill. They thanked the firemen and even the chief stopped to wave. Some people are amazing.
The flag was at half mast. All the fire vehicles shiny and polished in the sun. A beautiful fall day, like that nightmarish morning 5 years ago.
I am a Joiner
I stopped by the college newspaper office today and asked if I could join their staff. I am interested in writing a weekly column chronicle-ing the adventures of a 43 year old college senior.
The sports editor and A@E editor were very friendly and intrigued. I was handed a job application which I dutifully filled out and handed in. I also gave them a copy of my first article. I think they were impressed. (Ok perhaps they were just amused, I prefer to think positively.)
I wrote down when the first staff meeting is to be held and was told that the editor in chief would be in contact. And sure enough by the time the college IT boys had my computer programmed to the BSC wireless I had indeed been welcomed by the Editor.
I wonder what the rules are regarding posting my articles here on my little blog? I shall have to ask at the staff meeting. Do my words belong to me or the newspaper?
More importantly will I really be able to keep up with this all. I tend to not know my limits til I exceed them. Oh well you only live once and life goes by so fast (except when in math class and sometimes at work where time slows down and on occasion actually repeats!)
The sports editor and A@E editor were very friendly and intrigued. I was handed a job application which I dutifully filled out and handed in. I also gave them a copy of my first article. I think they were impressed. (Ok perhaps they were just amused, I prefer to think positively.)
I wrote down when the first staff meeting is to be held and was told that the editor in chief would be in contact. And sure enough by the time the college IT boys had my computer programmed to the BSC wireless I had indeed been welcomed by the Editor.
I wonder what the rules are regarding posting my articles here on my little blog? I shall have to ask at the staff meeting. Do my words belong to me or the newspaper?
More importantly will I really be able to keep up with this all. I tend to not know my limits til I exceed them. Oh well you only live once and life goes by so fast (except when in math class and sometimes at work where time slows down and on occasion actually repeats!)
How kids see the world
Had a moving conversation with Nikki this morning as she was getting ready for school. She was trying to find the perfect outfit for red/white/and blue day today. She of course always wears the perfect outfit. As a girl of fashion it seemed very fitting to her to honor 9 11 with just the right clothing.
We were in the living room and I was half watching the tv replay of that morning while getting out lunch money. She stood next to me watching the familiar footage of that jolting moment when the second plane crashed. It still makes me cringe.
She looked intently at the tv for a moment and said, "That is not happening now, it happened five years ago right?"
"Yes," I said.
She watched a moment longer and then looked outside as a gust of wind bumped our flag against the side of the house. "Why did it happen?" she asked. "Was it an accident?"
I describe the events as they happened, of four planes incomprehensively hijacked and all those people sent to their deaths. I spoke of men and woman who died simply do their jobs. Fireman and rescue workers, and a whole bunch of suited office workers, and the potato peelers just starting their day in the kitchen of Windows on The World.
"I dont understand, " she said a few times. "I dont understand."
We were interupted by the news that one of my baby bunnies had died. Joe was breathless with the dash in to tell me. He was eager to help with the burial.
I headed out and listened to Joes chatter while we dug a hole for the little bun. When I came back in I was wiping my eyes. Nikki had remained in front of the tv and as I walked by she gave me a hug.
"I bet a lot of people are crying today, " she said.
"They sure are babe. Today makes me miss my mom. When big events happened in the world we always called and spoke about it with eachother."
"We'll do that," she remarks with a firm nod of her head, "we'll call eachother when important things happen."
She steps a bit closer to the tv and then I realize she is looking at her on reflection on the screen. She reaches up to adjust her ponytail and unsatisfied she heads to the bathroom mirror.
Then as she passes by me on the way out to the bus stop she pauses, "You will be here when I get home from school, right?"
"Of course," I say with a smile.
"Awake?" She laughs then and grins at me fully. Just past me a kid on tv is reading what he wrote the firefighters on that day. Nikki again watches the tv. Then we look at each other for a moment. In all seriousness she says, "But I just dont understand."
We were in the living room and I was half watching the tv replay of that morning while getting out lunch money. She stood next to me watching the familiar footage of that jolting moment when the second plane crashed. It still makes me cringe.
She looked intently at the tv for a moment and said, "That is not happening now, it happened five years ago right?"
"Yes," I said.
She watched a moment longer and then looked outside as a gust of wind bumped our flag against the side of the house. "Why did it happen?" she asked. "Was it an accident?"
I describe the events as they happened, of four planes incomprehensively hijacked and all those people sent to their deaths. I spoke of men and woman who died simply do their jobs. Fireman and rescue workers, and a whole bunch of suited office workers, and the potato peelers just starting their day in the kitchen of Windows on The World.
"I dont understand, " she said a few times. "I dont understand."
We were interupted by the news that one of my baby bunnies had died. Joe was breathless with the dash in to tell me. He was eager to help with the burial.
I headed out and listened to Joes chatter while we dug a hole for the little bun. When I came back in I was wiping my eyes. Nikki had remained in front of the tv and as I walked by she gave me a hug.
"I bet a lot of people are crying today, " she said.
"They sure are babe. Today makes me miss my mom. When big events happened in the world we always called and spoke about it with eachother."
"We'll do that," she remarks with a firm nod of her head, "we'll call eachother when important things happen."
She steps a bit closer to the tv and then I realize she is looking at her on reflection on the screen. She reaches up to adjust her ponytail and unsatisfied she heads to the bathroom mirror.
Then as she passes by me on the way out to the bus stop she pauses, "You will be here when I get home from school, right?"
"Of course," I say with a smile.
"Awake?" She laughs then and grins at me fully. Just past me a kid on tv is reading what he wrote the firefighters on that day. Nikki again watches the tv. Then we look at each other for a moment. In all seriousness she says, "But I just dont understand."
Sunday, September 10, 2006
When work is a vocation
Where I work is an amazing place. Like any business it has its detractions of course. The pay is too low. The people in management have often risen to the level of their incompetence. And decisions are too often made and then revoked with no particular rhyme or reason, or input from the people directly involved for that matter.
Yet every day the most extraordinary things occur there. People on the brink of destruction begin to pull their lives together. Folks without a spark of hope, who have been reduced, to nothing, who have often lost everyone and everything…. jobs, home, loved ones- but these same people are able to pull back from death and begin to piece their lives back together. Miraculous.
I work in a Detox.
Many of the people I work with are in Recovery themselves. And who better to offer hope for sobriety, than a former addict or drunk, now sober.
Bill W. felt this was the cornerstone of his AA recovery model. And he has been proven correct. With all the latest medications and advanced theories in science, AA and NA remain the most effective tool for people to remain sober. It works when worked.
My job is not complicated. I take blood pressures and check pulses. I do a variety of simple paperwork tasks. I handle late night admissions. I deal with any phone calls and most importantly, I put people to bed!
Safety checks and sometimes a small bit of one on one counseling are also required. But mostly I do very simple, very repetitive chores.
I get people an extra blanket, I hand them their towels. I find them a comb or toothpaste. I fill cups with water or ginger ale. Night after night I do the same things over and over.
But it never gets old. It never gets old because each person who needs a blanket, each person who needs a hand has been laid low by a disease that is destroying their lives. There is a simple enough sounding solution for them of course. Just stop, just do not drink. Just do not pop those pills or snort that smack or smoke that crack.
But the insidious part of the disease changes brain patterns. It whispers in the addict’s ear words that make sense only to an addict. "One more drink won’t hurt. You just need one more pill, one more taste." Logic becomes distorted and the whole drug lifestyle feels normal.
Sobriety is what looks and feels strange. And with sobriety comes feelings, all those emotions that were dulled and over medicated. And guilt…guilt for sins real and imagined.
I sometimes wonder how anyone ever gets better, but they do. And then they go on to make wonderous changes in their lives and the lives of fellow addicts.
Katie, and Mark, and Dave are some of the most fascinating people I have ever met. Their Recovery and their willingness to share thmeselves with others is humbling.
Everynight when I go to work, it is like a prayer. Small steps, small things that help transform someones life.
Yet every day the most extraordinary things occur there. People on the brink of destruction begin to pull their lives together. Folks without a spark of hope, who have been reduced, to nothing, who have often lost everyone and everything…. jobs, home, loved ones- but these same people are able to pull back from death and begin to piece their lives back together. Miraculous.
I work in a Detox.
Many of the people I work with are in Recovery themselves. And who better to offer hope for sobriety, than a former addict or drunk, now sober.
Bill W. felt this was the cornerstone of his AA recovery model. And he has been proven correct. With all the latest medications and advanced theories in science, AA and NA remain the most effective tool for people to remain sober. It works when worked.
My job is not complicated. I take blood pressures and check pulses. I do a variety of simple paperwork tasks. I handle late night admissions. I deal with any phone calls and most importantly, I put people to bed!
Safety checks and sometimes a small bit of one on one counseling are also required. But mostly I do very simple, very repetitive chores.
I get people an extra blanket, I hand them their towels. I find them a comb or toothpaste. I fill cups with water or ginger ale. Night after night I do the same things over and over.
But it never gets old. It never gets old because each person who needs a blanket, each person who needs a hand has been laid low by a disease that is destroying their lives. There is a simple enough sounding solution for them of course. Just stop, just do not drink. Just do not pop those pills or snort that smack or smoke that crack.
But the insidious part of the disease changes brain patterns. It whispers in the addict’s ear words that make sense only to an addict. "One more drink won’t hurt. You just need one more pill, one more taste." Logic becomes distorted and the whole drug lifestyle feels normal.
Sobriety is what looks and feels strange. And with sobriety comes feelings, all those emotions that were dulled and over medicated. And guilt…guilt for sins real and imagined.
I sometimes wonder how anyone ever gets better, but they do. And then they go on to make wonderous changes in their lives and the lives of fellow addicts.
Katie, and Mark, and Dave are some of the most fascinating people I have ever met. Their Recovery and their willingness to share thmeselves with others is humbling.
Everynight when I go to work, it is like a prayer. Small steps, small things that help transform someones life.
History and 9 11 and our kids
Tonight on CBS they are rebroadcasting the 9 11 documentary made by two french brothers. The young men were originally filming a story about a firefighter's first year and were caught up in the horror now known world wide as 9 11.
When I watched the show, the night it first aired, I was stunned at how well these documentarians had captured the emotions and sights and sounds of that dreadful day.
Donnie and I are going to watch it with the four older children tonight. I think it is still too powerful for the younger three. I have already explained to Julie what she would she and hear, as her young artist's soul wounds easily.
But I want to watch it with them. It is still too soon I believe to get any historical perspective on that terrible event or what went into it or what we should do about it.
But I want the kids to see this documentary as it so eloquently captured that day.
I shielded Corey and Julie from a lot of the origiginal footage of the towers and the Pentagon. Tim and Mary and I took turns watching the tv while at the same time keeping the little kids occupied in the next room.
Tim was so horrified that he decided to watch it on the Spanish channel. He felt hearing it in a foreign language would remove some of the pain and terror. That proved to be a mistake that haunted him. The channel chose to show much more graphic shots than American television. He watched bodies fall. People jump. It took him a few days to even articulate it.
So we will watch with them tonight and share with them and help them to cope. Corey and Julie are especially naive in their thinking and often make sweeping generalizations, and black and white pronouncements. I want to monitor what they see and hear tonight and encourage them to talk about this time in our country, and what it means to them.
I miss my Mom and Daddy.
When I watched the show, the night it first aired, I was stunned at how well these documentarians had captured the emotions and sights and sounds of that dreadful day.
Donnie and I are going to watch it with the four older children tonight. I think it is still too powerful for the younger three. I have already explained to Julie what she would she and hear, as her young artist's soul wounds easily.
But I want to watch it with them. It is still too soon I believe to get any historical perspective on that terrible event or what went into it or what we should do about it.
But I want the kids to see this documentary as it so eloquently captured that day.
I shielded Corey and Julie from a lot of the origiginal footage of the towers and the Pentagon. Tim and Mary and I took turns watching the tv while at the same time keeping the little kids occupied in the next room.
Tim was so horrified that he decided to watch it on the Spanish channel. He felt hearing it in a foreign language would remove some of the pain and terror. That proved to be a mistake that haunted him. The channel chose to show much more graphic shots than American television. He watched bodies fall. People jump. It took him a few days to even articulate it.
So we will watch with them tonight and share with them and help them to cope. Corey and Julie are especially naive in their thinking and often make sweeping generalizations, and black and white pronouncements. I want to monitor what they see and hear tonight and encourage them to talk about this time in our country, and what it means to them.
I miss my Mom and Daddy.
Friday, September 08, 2006
So Much to Say, So Little Sleep
I promise to fill in every detail of my new school life. But this week I have had to work the last five of six nights and I am about 36 hours behind on sleep.
So deep introspection will not occur til after tonight's work shift and many many many hours of sleep.
I am really in though. Even got financial Aid! Have five classes, four regualr psychology classes and one online course.
I was very fashionale the first day in my chinos. All us college girls wore chinos or jeans. There was a LOT of cleavage but I had the girls covered up, at least for the first day.
I am older than two of my teachers and older than every single student in every single one of my classes.
But oh boy is it fun to be surrounded by knowledge. I so love to learn. I could be a student every day of my life. It almost feels selfish to be able to go back to school!
Now I must sleep.....then to Gabe and Unas for a fun party. Sadly I will have to cut out early to be in work. I can hardly wait to find out how every body else is coping with their new work changes.
Will write further, and more deeply psychological reflections when my mind had finely gotten its fill of restorative sleep......
So deep introspection will not occur til after tonight's work shift and many many many hours of sleep.
I am really in though. Even got financial Aid! Have five classes, four regualr psychology classes and one online course.
I was very fashionale the first day in my chinos. All us college girls wore chinos or jeans. There was a LOT of cleavage but I had the girls covered up, at least for the first day.
I am older than two of my teachers and older than every single student in every single one of my classes.
But oh boy is it fun to be surrounded by knowledge. I so love to learn. I could be a student every day of my life. It almost feels selfish to be able to go back to school!
Now I must sleep.....then to Gabe and Unas for a fun party. Sadly I will have to cut out early to be in work. I can hardly wait to find out how every body else is coping with their new work changes.
Will write further, and more deeply psychological reflections when my mind had finely gotten its fill of restorative sleep......
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
New Begginnings
Many people see January First as the start of new beginnings. Other people see Spring as the time for a new start. September however has always been the place of new adventures for me.
Yellow school busses and cool crisp mornings herald the start of something new.
This year Mary started graduate school and has to get there by train. Very big change for a country girl. Corey started his senior year in high school and Tim his senior year of college.
( I remember putting Tim in a taxi at age three for his first year of preschool with a diagnosis of Autism. Now he speaks fluent Spanish and drives a big bus and starts his senior year in college. Talk about new starts!)
Friends are all undergoing new starts and big changes as well. Paula has a new job in a new place. Reenie goes back to work fulltime. My work friend Dave has empty nest.
As for me....well tomorrow I start college fulltime. Most of the kinks have been worked out. I even have a new Major PSYCHOLOGY.
I have a new work schedule as well. For the past five years I have worked every single Monday and Tuesday night. But Dave, whose son has just left for college, has agreed to switch nights with me and I will be doing his Thursday and Fridays and he takes over my Monday and Tuesdays. His ready agreement with my request moves me. He is in the process of a second course of Interfuron shots in an effort to halt the damage of Hep C. When he said he would switch nights for me it also means he has to switch his schedule of injections. But he never hesitates when I make my request.
He teases me about going back to school and we goodnaturedly complain about people at work. He is sad about having his house all to himself and I offer to send a few kids over to him.
I listen to Eileen trying to decide whether to stay in her lower paying but geographically convenient job, or striking out in the unknown for more money. And I read about Margo's excitement and concern about her huge responsiblities with a job that is too big for one person, but one person she is.
Donnie is working on new band possibilities, Heather about to have her baby, Matt and Mary are to be wed.
September is the time for new beginnings. Ready or not kids get older, work gets harder, money gets tighter.
But the yellow busses come and the fall breeze blows fresh and crisp. Hello new starts. I hope I make it to my classes on time. I wonder if the teachers are nice? I hope the other kids like me.
Yellow school busses and cool crisp mornings herald the start of something new.
This year Mary started graduate school and has to get there by train. Very big change for a country girl. Corey started his senior year in high school and Tim his senior year of college.
( I remember putting Tim in a taxi at age three for his first year of preschool with a diagnosis of Autism. Now he speaks fluent Spanish and drives a big bus and starts his senior year in college. Talk about new starts!)
Friends are all undergoing new starts and big changes as well. Paula has a new job in a new place. Reenie goes back to work fulltime. My work friend Dave has empty nest.
As for me....well tomorrow I start college fulltime. Most of the kinks have been worked out. I even have a new Major PSYCHOLOGY.
I have a new work schedule as well. For the past five years I have worked every single Monday and Tuesday night. But Dave, whose son has just left for college, has agreed to switch nights with me and I will be doing his Thursday and Fridays and he takes over my Monday and Tuesdays. His ready agreement with my request moves me. He is in the process of a second course of Interfuron shots in an effort to halt the damage of Hep C. When he said he would switch nights for me it also means he has to switch his schedule of injections. But he never hesitates when I make my request.
He teases me about going back to school and we goodnaturedly complain about people at work. He is sad about having his house all to himself and I offer to send a few kids over to him.
I listen to Eileen trying to decide whether to stay in her lower paying but geographically convenient job, or striking out in the unknown for more money. And I read about Margo's excitement and concern about her huge responsiblities with a job that is too big for one person, but one person she is.
Donnie is working on new band possibilities, Heather about to have her baby, Matt and Mary are to be wed.
September is the time for new beginnings. Ready or not kids get older, work gets harder, money gets tighter.
But the yellow busses come and the fall breeze blows fresh and crisp. Hello new starts. I hope I make it to my classes on time. I wonder if the teachers are nice? I hope the other kids like me.
Friday, September 01, 2006
College Girl
I AM IN. I believe, if I follow the obscure directions of financial Aid and college debt. I do believe I start my Senior year, fulltime on Thursdays.... Now everything still isn't smooth sailing. The course times have to be tweaked a bit to fit the little kids school schedules. There is still the ? as to whether or not classes that I took 23 years ago count towards the "CORE" courses (BTW I got all As in those classes, and one B so in my mind they count.)
I have not told work yet and I am not even certain what the best way is to have work and schools schedules accomodate eachother. So I may work all night and then drive right to school for a days worth of school work, come home help kids with homework sleep for a few hours then go in to work again.....
I havent thought about fitting in my own homework and an additional online course and our regular life. Or what it will emotionally feel like to be back in school with fellow students my kids' ages. In fact my son Tim starts his Senior year there as well.
But I am in. As soon as Don gets home he will go over the paperwork with me one more time. We will sign for a small loan and then.....whoooo hooo I am ready for the Frat party.
I have not told work yet and I am not even certain what the best way is to have work and schools schedules accomodate eachother. So I may work all night and then drive right to school for a days worth of school work, come home help kids with homework sleep for a few hours then go in to work again.....
I havent thought about fitting in my own homework and an additional online course and our regular life. Or what it will emotionally feel like to be back in school with fellow students my kids' ages. In fact my son Tim starts his Senior year there as well.
But I am in. As soon as Don gets home he will go over the paperwork with me one more time. We will sign for a small loan and then.....whoooo hooo I am ready for the Frat party.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)