Twenty Eleven...

I am not a good resolution keeper, so I stopped attempting to keep them years ago.  I have been going to learn Italian for the past 12 years.  Nessuna tale fortuna!  (That’s no such luck in Italian...but I had to look it up.)  The point is, I have good intentions, but as the song goes, it’s hard to rely on them.  So I stopped pretending that I was going to do x, y and z in the New Year and just simply go where the wind would take me.  So far it hasn’t blown me in the direction I thought it would, and I hate being disappointed, so I no longer “plan” for anything.  Ok, well I try not to anyway.  Give a girl some props for trying.

I can look back and tell you my favorite things about last year.  Or perhaps I should call them my biggest moments of 2011 because some of them may not be my favorites, but definitely changed my life.  As much as I will try to get them in order, I highly doubt I will, but here goes.

February:
I barely remember the first half of 2011.  I can confidently tell you I was in “the great depression” after returning home from Hawaii for pretty much the first 6 months.  I had surgery on my foot the end of February.  Surgery was a success and for the most part it has done remarkably well since.  It occasionally feels like my foot is asleep, like ALL THE TIME, but it passes.

The end of February brought a new friend.  Without saying much, that has been a roller coaster of emotions for both of us.  I had my work cut out for me on this one, but I can look back now and be grateful for the challenges it presented because at the very least I have learned a lot about the things that are really worth complaining about.  I have a deep appreciation for parents.  I have a special appreciation for parents of special needs children.  I can promise those with perfectly healthy kids occasionally take that for granted. 

May/June/July:
Sometime in May my friend Angie B and I ended up at a grade school family kickball day and thought it would be amazing for ourselves to invite our friends to have an adult kickball game, so we did that in June.  It was insane.  Probably 2 of us that played were in any physical shape to be playing, but those of us that could drink beer did so just fine.  A lot of new friendships began that day and it is probably the last time I truly laughed that hard.   It was one of the highlights of my summer.

Memorial Weekend marked the beginning of my new found love of “River Sitting.”  It really is simply just that.  Sitting in the river in a chair.  I have lived on this river pretty much my whole life and never quite took advantage of it like I did this summer.  I owe a special thanks to Lori, Garrett, Kels balls and Ray for introducing me to such a spectacular event of nothingness the prior year before.  I truly enjoyed it more this year.  Plus I met some amazing new friends, or reconnected with some again that made it one of the best summers I have had in quite a while.  It is a wonderful thing to do nothing all day in the sun with good friends. 

I turned 39 again this summer.  It is always nice to have a birthday twice, in case you don’t like the first one around!  Seriously though, mom somehow convinced me I had the same birthday twice.  To be honest it wasn’t much different than the first time around.  I made a really big deal about my birthday this year, which got annoying after a while but that is because people do it to me all the time.  Pay backs truly are hell.

River Sitting took a dramatic turn when on the weekend of the 4^th of July, I got out of work early and spent pretty much 3 hours in the river alone (before other river guests arrived.)  Sometime after I got home (around 7PM) and put myself in bed, I broke my left hand.  To this day, this moment, I still have no recollection of how, but I will forever have a reminder of it.  I am pretty sure it needed surgery, but it is far too late now.  I will simply deal with a crooked hand.

July also brought Bella’s Sweet 16 trip to Chi-town to visit Rhetta…that was fun but not with a cast!

August-December:
The last four months have been somewhat uneventful.  More river sitting, some trips to Osage Beach to hang out at the Ozarks.  Labor Day Weekend escorting Nic around in my ‘Cadillac” that I couldn’t get wet or stuck or I had to buy it…and I liked it and all but not enough to buy it.

I started my Blog at the beginning of August.

RumChata entered my life and become bigger than it really is or should be but we sure have had a lot of fun with it!

December brought my whirlwind trip to Green Bay Wisconsin and Lambeau Field with a very dear friend I haven’t seen in eons. 

For anyone that really cares here were my favorites of 2011:

(Since it would not be fair to answer every single one of these questions with ADELE, let it just be known that for all questions where she could be the answer, she probably is, but for sake of creativity, I have forced myself to choose something else!)

Favorite Song: Give Me Everything- Pit Bull, Ne-Yo, Afrojack, & Nayer   http://youtu.be/EPo5wWmKEaI
Favorite Album: Adele 21
Favorite Gadget: IPhone 4S
Favorite Road-trip: Bears/Packer Game, December
Favorite Famous Person of 2011: Adele
Favorite Book: DEAR GOD I DON’T REMEMBER READING ONE!
Favorite New Endeavor:  My blog
Favorite Movie of 2011: The Adjustment Bureau
Favorite New TV Show: New Girl
Favorite Quote:  "I'm on a drug. It's called Charlie Sheen. It's not available. If you try it once, you will die."—Charlie Sheen, in an interview with ABC News, insisting he was not on drugs or alcohol during his weeks-long public meltdown that cost him his job on the TV show Two and a Half Men (ABC News)
Favorite Food/Beverage Find: RumChata

So…what was your favorite part of 2011 and are you ready to see it go?  I am ready for it to go if for no other reason than to be able to say “twenty twelve.”  It rolls off the tongue better.

Have a Nice Day...

Do you ever have days where you just don’t connect with people?  No matter how hard you try?  I probably internalize things more than the average Jane, but sometimes, no matter what, you just can’t connect with other humans.  And I, because I internalize everything, take it to heart when that connection is bad.  Like it is somehow my fault, which is ridiculous because it is not.  I highly doubt I am the only person that experiences this, but honestly, some days I just want to smack people.  Like upside the head, with a brick.  It is not in my nature to be a mean person so when someone is short or less than polite with me, I instantly get the hair up on my back, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.  What I really want to say is, go back to bed and start over.  Like now, right this second. 

Trust me when I say I have come to work in a bad mood before.  I should stay in bed.  I know this.  If they would pay me to stay in bed because of my mood, I would stay home.  However, if I come to work in a bad mood, I just don’t say anything, to anyone, which really makes people mad.  Well, you have two choices, I can be quiet, or can be a real ass…you pick. However, I do not answer the phone like the jackwagons have that I have had to talk to the past few days.  If you hate your job and your life and whatever else it is you have going on, feel free to stay home.  I know all about having to come to work when I am feeling less than amicable, but I don’t answer the phone like a jerk.  I may be a jerk around my co-workers, but that is the price they pay for working with me, but I am not a jerk on the phone to customers.  That is where I draw the line.  If your job consists of dealing with customers either in person or via the phone and your pants got put on wrong that morning, it is probably a good idea to stay the hell home.  Can’t afford to stay home?  I suggest you sit in the break room and tell everyone you are contagious, because your bad attitude is contagious and that you must go home.  Eventually, you will probably get sent home.  I am sure on certain days it would be ok to take my own advice. 

To the jerk that called looking for someone who doesn’t work here and never has…no matter how many times you tell me they do, they don’t.  If I need to protect someone’s whereabouts that badly they should probably be in the Witness Protection plan, don’t leave that up to me.  To the jerk that unfortunately got my call to schedule my doctor apt. this morning, I am sorry you didn’t get what you wanted for Christmas, and that you had to go back to work, I suggest you get new friends and family or a new job.  To the acquaintance that is really just an acquaintance, I honestly don’t care how you are doing in your life, I was asking to be polite, but I won’t waste my time anymore on people who are so clearly miserable with their own existence that they will never be able to tell when someone is being polite.  And to the people that live in Glass Houses.  Clearly you didn’t learn by throwing stones, so allow me to bring you a wheelbarrow full of bricks.

Oh and have a nice day!

All Alone at Lambeau Field...

I have felt alone in a crowded room.  I have felt alone with a group of friends.  I have felt alone in a church full of people.  I have felt alone, when I was actually, alone.  And I am quite used to being in the minority.  But I have never felt more alone or so much the MINORITY as I did in Lambeau Field on Christmas night as one of 5 Chicago Bear fans within 100 miles. 

Prior to entering the stadium, it was all fun and merriment.  Tons of tailgaters, lots of Merry Christmas and camaraderie, people singing, people laughing, footballs being thrown, brats cooking and the beer flowing.  They even welcomed me with open arms in the restroom line.  Probably because no one cares who uses a Porta Potty when it is 17 degrees outside. 

I should have secretly gone as a Bears fan and when I say secretly, I mean I should have worn Green and Yellow and HID my clothes.  It didn’t get ugly until I went to go into the stadium and of course I was in such awe of the moment, that I thankfully took it all in stride.  The gentleman taking my ticket, laughed hysterically at me (I should add that I was all decked out in Bears hat, Bears Jacket (3 of them), Bears scarf, even my Orange Keens)…BIG MISTAKE.  I looked like that fish you see on the National Geographic shows, which thinks swimming off on his own will somehow do him good, only to be eaten alive by the predator.  In hindsight I would have probably told him to kiss my butt because Trevor was taking me on a tour of the stadium, but he laughed at me hysterically saying “not only was I at the wrong place, but I was going in the wrong door because my seat was on the other end.”  Merry Christmas to you too Jackwagon! 

Conway's Sandy Beach Resort...

Conway's Sandy Beach Resort on Big Lake near Bemidji, Minnesota.  It was magical.  Really.  It was.  Also the place I have never felt closer to God.  In fact there has been no place more magical to me.  My parents started taking me there when I was 5.  I do not remember what year our last “family vacation” was taken here, but it is the reason that I fell in love with Minnesota.  Our cabins names were Shady Rest, Maple and Sunset.

I am not sure how we arrived at this destination all those years ago except that I think Dad’s Aunt and Uncle had a cabin down the road and that is where he used to go when he was little.  So eventually we all ended up at Conway’s. 

The Owner’s, Chuck and Blanche were two of the most genuine people you would ever meet.  The most wonderful thing about being here was that you felt like you were staying with family.  Eventually they became family.  Several years later their son and daughter in law (Chuck and Jan) would take over who were carbon copies of Chuck and Blanche and I would meet their daughter Dana, who would drastically change my life.

So much of my childhood was based around these two weeks of the year.  I would imagine we probably only initially started with one week…which was never enough.  Eventually it turned into a month, but mom got 2 weeks alone!  It was her happy place.

We shared this place with many other family and friends.  Mom’s side and Dad’s side.  It was 2 weeks of the year that I actually saw my parents happy.  It was amazing.  It truly is hard to explain to anyone unless you have experienced it, what being here meant.

Every summer for so many years, this is where I went.  I met and made lasting friendships here.  I learned how to fish how and how to drive a boat and row a canoe.  I learned how beautifully haunting the sound of a loon could be.  I learned the value of a sunset.  In fact I have a thousand pictures of sunsets here, that may look the same to most people, but no two were ever the same.  I had my first lollie here…a sucker (candy) that I cannot find to this day, but was something I saved all my coins for.  It was where I learned to play Annie Annie I Over and Ditch.  It was where I first played softball with a ball about as big as my head.  It was where I played in many badminton tournaments.  I cleaned my first fish.  It was where I first went fishing alone.  It was where I first played spoons, and crazy 8’s.  So many memories.  But most importantly where I first “felt” God. 

The red, or maybe it was green, bench down on the beach was my favorite place to sit and stare.  And stare and stare and stare.  I loved to watch the diamonds and stars skate across the water on a day when the water was pretty smooth but had just enough ripple to make the sun dance.  I consider it something like watching a fire, mesmerizing, enchanting.  I could go “away” for hours and never leave the bench.

Buon Natale!

That'd be Merry Christmas in Italian!

It’s almost here…my favorite Holiday of the year.  And just like that, it will be over and gone.  And we will be sitting on the beach (at the Spoon River) and say wow, it was just Christmas. 

Christmas used to be a whole lot different for me.  Although it shouldn’t have made me sad that my Father has put up a tiny little tree and hung a string of lights in our picture window, it did.  And it did because there was one time of the year that I felt like our house was magical and that was at Christmas.  And that was because Mom made it that way.  The house was so lit up you didn’t need any lights on.  She even made sure I had my own Christmas tree in the dungeon.  I have not had one up since she left.  I applaud my Father for the attempt and am really glad he put SOMETHING up, but it apparently caught me at the wrong moment and made me realize that things have really changed.  And this year especially, I am deviating far from the norm!

How many Christmas’ do you have?  I have a lot.  I used to have 3.  Buckman Christmas, O’Brien Christmas and what I will call Brother and Sister Immediate Family Christmas.  I now have the following; Buckman Christmas, O’Brien Christmas, Sheldon/Mangieri (my other family) Christmas, Dad Christmas, and Mom Christmas.  Instead of feeling bad that Christmas is “different” I am actually embracing that I have so many.  Sure it was easier when there were fewer and I don’t even have kids to drag around, well Brodie, but he is pretty portable!

Honestly, me being ok with this just happened.  Because I was sad that I STILL don’t have my own family to have my own Christmas…it will come when it is supposed to.  I have put it in God’s hands.

Also, this Christmas, I will not even be around my family.  I will be in Green Bay (for what is sure to be a once in a lifetime opportunity for me) watching the Bears/Packers game with a dear friend whom I haven’t seen for ions.  The Lord really does work in mysterious ways.  I am not looking for this to be tradition but for sure a Christmas I will never forget.

So what are your traditions?  What do you fix to eat?  Do you have to travel far?  Do you host it?  Would you be sad if your normal holiday tradition changed?

Whatever you do and wherever you do it, I hope you have a wonderful CHRISTMAS or whatever holiday it is you celebrate.  I wish you all a safe and happy holiday!  Enjoy your traditions!

A Week Without My Gadgets? Preposterous....

I will be the first to admit I am addicted to my technological devices.  Mainly my IPod Touch and my IPhone.  And when I say addicted, I mean I pretty much have one or the other at my fingertips at all times.  Like my chapstick and my fingernail clippers.  Although I occasionally do not have the clippers and neither does anyone else for that matter.  I am blown away by the number of people that DO NOT carry clippers.  It’s ridiculous.  But then again, people feel that way about me because I usually do have some.  And why are they called a pair of clippers if there is only one?

Anyway, back to technology.  I think I am getting a NOOK for Christmas which means that will be attached at my hip as well since I love, love, love to read.  It’s been awhile, but once I start, I will go off the grid for quite a while and read voraciously. 

Sister was given a challenge the other day that I personally do not think I could accomplish myself.  She was asked to give up all of her technological devices for one week.  Go back to the way it used to be.  Pretend like she doesn’t have a computer, a cell phone…whatever.  I personally don’t think I could do it.  And what would the rules be?  No computer either, other than for work?  No emails, no instant messaging, no chats…no Facebook.  Dear God, what would be the point of living?  Who the hell would hear all the cool things I need to say?  Who would I talk to?  Dad?  Brodie?  About the same kind of conversation there…a bunch of noises, but no real words.  Strictly rely on my work peers for conversation?  Dear God that about kills me daily anyway.  I would have to watch TV and reruns kill me.  I would have to read a real book, with pages and everything, which would actually be ok, but about day two would get extremely lonely.  I am aware that we rely way too much on our “gadgets” but one week?  One day I think would be just about as brutal as walking on nails.  Or nails on a chalkboard…or some other awful thing with nails.  I cannot fathom a whole week.  Wouldn’t people worry?

I am seriously considering this.  But in all honesty, going on a diet and losing 30# sounds easier and yes I need to do that too.  And there is nothing easy about that.

Is there a technological device you cannot live without?  And should I do this?  For sure there are many that have drastically changed my life and the way I communicate in my world.  I honestly do not know if I can do it or not.  I suppose I may as well go live in a tent in the backyard with a lantern while I am at it. 

Santa? What gives...

I set out on a quest a few weeks ago to put Christmas back in the hearts of those who were missing it.  It was a daunting task, but it some small ways I think I have accomplished said goal.  I mean the plant manager gave us all Christmas gifts.  The gifts actually play Christmas songs.  There was no Christmas in that man’s heart whatsoever.  So in that respect, it has worked.

It also was the catalyst behind a small group of people whom I like to call “Holiday Cheer for All the Year.”   The goal is to get together once every other week, you know to spread cheer.  Laugh at one another.  Laugh at other people.  Talk about anything and everything.  Mostly we just laugh, which is the whole point of the group.  We have had so much fun that we are having Holiday Cheer all year, as there are plenty of holidays.  Some nights though, I have too much Holiday Cheer and then it makes for a very long day the next day.

Last night’s topics of discussion covered a plethora of things.  For instance, my blog.  Another discussion was how Santa handles gifts at your house.  For example, does he wrap them?  Are they under the tree?  Are they separated in a different part of the room?  Does he not wrap them?  How many does he give? 

It was actually a very interesting conversation because everyone’s answers were quite different.  At some houses he leaves the presents unwrapped, but at some he does not?  Some houses he leaves them under the tree and some they are off to the side.  Some houses he uses special Santa wrapping paper.  At some houses, there are more presents from Santa then there are from the parents.

So all of this begs the question…just what the heck is Santa’s deal?  There is no rhyme or reason.  No method to his madness.  No consistency. 

So, someone, please, feel free to enlighten me on the proper Santa Claus present leaving etiquette.   And just how he decides at which house he is going to do what?

Dream Weaver...

It is quite possibly a good thing that I do not have a dream interpreter…I think some would scare the bejesus out of me to be honest.  However, I love them and I love when I can remember them.  It’s the only vacation I can take for free, even if they are bizarre! 

I don’t always remember my dreams but some I can wake up and recount them moment to moment.  My favorite ones are the ones that you wake up, probably have to pee or something, and you are soooooooooooooooooooo angry because it was such a good dream, but the minute you fall back asleep it takes off right where it left!  Those are the best!

But seriously, my dreams lately have been disturbing.  Not disturbing in a morbid way, disturbing in a where the heck did those come from way.  Like they make no sense.  Well, obviously they do, if some educated person who specializes in that kind of thing, explained them to me, but I am not entirely sure I want to know what they mean ya know? 

So I will share last night’s dreams with you and you can decide whatever you want about me, but honestly they make no sense to me.

First Dream-

I dreamt that Adele (the most fabulous singer ever, if you live under a rock) and I were friends.  She invited me to an awards show.  I was in the front row.  Because of her recent surgery (which really happened), she was struggling to sing.  The whole place was laughing.  I couldn’t figure out why she would try to sing if she couldn’t and then I was mad that people were laughing at her when she tried.  I was angry.  Like the kind of angry I have only been one other time and that wasn’t pretty.  I just remember wanting her to stop, to quit, to leave the stage, but she kept trying and people kept laughing…and this immediately went into the next one, which has NOTHING to do with that one…(I don’t think)

Second Dream-

My uncle Darren gave me tickets to see the Cubs.  They were in a booklet, like the kind of booklet you buy from students for discounts on local businesses.  I do not know why I was in Chicago alone, but I was.  I go to the ticket window, and my ticket is actually for the next day, so I have to buy a general admission ticket, no big deal.  And then I have to buy another ticket to sit in the bleachers.  I don’t know why, I just did.  The bleachers were not full, but busy.  I caught 7 homeruns, myself.  The ball kept getting hit right to me.  After I would catch one, a goofy looking guy would come over and exchange the ball with a signed one from whoever hit it.  No one fought me for these balls…I just was in the right place at the right time, but on the wrong day?

Same dream, but a diversion of...I am trying to get OUT of Chicago, but I keep going the wrong way.  I keep ending up out in the middle of the lake (there is a road out in the middle of the lake, but it’s a dead end, like Navy Pier sort of.) I must have done this 3 times before I finally woke up.

Feel free to put your two cents in about these dreams.  

WHY...

This one isn’t going to be real easy to write.  But perhaps it will help me as well. 

I remember when I first started blogging (per Sisters request), she didn’t like when I exposed myself to the world and shared my ups and downs and put myself out there for the world to see…but it is who I am.  I have no secrets.  I lived way too many years with them.  It is no way to live.  That was the purpose of the blog no?  It is a diary of sorts.  Sure I want to write about other things but myself, but it was supposed to be an outlet for me.  And in order to express myself, I had to also share myself.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  I am not afraid of the world seeing that.  Maybe that makes me not like most people, but then again, it is ok to be different.

I really do not know many details and am not about to pretend I do.  The world lost a young lady yesterday who clearly thought that not living in this world would be easier than whatever she was going through.  That young lady for all intents and purposes was my nephew’s first “girlfriend.”  So although I did not personally know her, this hit close to home.  On so many levels.

We live in a world where if those around us cannot “see” our pain, we are obviously not in any.  What a horribly wrong assumption to make.  For anyone.  It couldn’t be more wrong.

If you have never suffered from depression, kudos to you.  I don’t believe any of us have ever been exempt from it though.  At some point, in your life, you will go through it.  Over a partner, over money, over death of a loved one, over a divorce, over cheating, over a bad grade, over being bullied…the list goes on.  Some people go in and out of it like a wave does on the shore.  In. Out.  For others it isn’t that easy.  There is a commercial out there about a depression medication that says “depression hurts.”  Unless you have truly been in it, where it doesn’t ebb and flow so easily, no truer words are spoken.  It hurts like hell.

I was born and raised Catholic.  And was taught many moons ago that you could not be given a funeral or a proper Catholic burial if you committed suicide.  That one's life is the property of God and a gift to the world, and to destroy that life is to wrongly assert dominion over what is God's and is a tragic loss of hope.  I believe the thoughts have changed, I could be wrong.  I believe the Church does pray for those souls who feel like taking their own life is their only answer.  I am not in any position to say what is right or what is wrong.  I just know that I pray to a God that loves us all, no matter what choices we make. 

I first learned I “suffered” from depression my freshman year of college.  I will not go into the details of what happened to bring this to fruition, but if doing so would help someone else, I would do so in a heartbeat.  I inflicted self-pain, I didn’t harm anyone else.  But it was a rude awakening and I was very lucky that a medical professional at that time knew “what it was.”  In 1990, being depressed was quite “taboo.”  Something was terribly wrong with someone who had to be on “anti-depression” medicine.  At this time in my life it was an insurmountable mountain.  I was trying to adjust to college life…I was away from home for the first time…my parents were discussing divorce…I didn’t understand what was different about me…it felt like it just kept piling.  This age period in your life is terribly hard.  Trying to find your “place” in the world.  So I guess in a way, you could say I was saved this night, when without knowing it, I cried out for help, and thank God people heard me. 

I am not afraid to say I have needed anti-depressants since then.  We have a family history of depression on my mother’s side.  Mostly the women.  But it is there.  I honestly do not care what people think about that.  I have not been on medication for that many years.  Like the tide, it has ebbed and flowed as well.  It took many more years to realize the big culprit was PMDD (feel free to Google it) but about once a month I become a hormonal mess.  Once we got that dialed in, I could breathe again.

I am also not afraid to say that there have been many times that I thought not being in this world would be easier.  Ironically those times came as I got older and the hormones became more prevalent.  I have been in some really dark places.  Really dark.  I have hit rock bottom more than once.  There was a period during my ownership of the bar, which I can honestly say, was the darkest of my life.  A lot of major things were taking place in my life, all negative and the weight of that got too much to bear.  I made a lot of idol threats…threats I wish I would take back, however, to be honest, making the threats meant I didn’t have the guts (for lack of a better term) to go through with something like that.  I guess it was moments like those that I am blessed that I wear my heart on my sleeve and not bottle things up inside.  The person, who generally goes through with such a thing, doesn’t broadcast it.  It’s the last person you expect. 

The point is I am not proud to be able to say I could get to a place that dark.  A place where it hurt to breathe.  Everything hurt.  Even the hair on my head.  It is not a fun place to be.  And unless you have been there it is very easy to say, really, really stupid things like “don’t be selfish,” “why would you do that to the people that love you,” “what could possibly be that bad,” etc.  A depressed person doesn’t want judged.  Or compared to.  Or shown how bad things can really be.  When you are in that “space” there is nothing worse.  It can be the stupidest thing (to others) that causes you to get there.  Quite possibly the worst thing a person can do to a depressed person…to say their reasons for being sad are stupid.  Anything that causes a person to hurt is not stupid. No matter how trivial it may seem to others.

I cannot imagine what this family is going through right now.  I cannot imagine the questions that are being asked, how it could have been prevented.  She was 18 years old.  Would have been 19 the 29^th of this month.  And it is Christmas, of all holidays.  How can anything be that bad?  Who told her life, wasn’t worth the fight?  Because they were wrong.  There are very few things anyone can say to her siblings and parents that will make this better.  And for a very long time they will be in shock.  I don’t understand a lot of things.  I do understand depression.  And I understand that the hardest part in all of this, is knowing that she didn’t feel like anyone else did understand what she was feeling.  You cannot unless you have been there. 

If you have anyone in your life who tells you they are down, or who are unhappy, for whatever reason, just listen.  Don’t minimize it.  Don’t make light of it.  Don’t treat them like fools for not being able to sort it out.  Just listen.  Besides a hug, it truly is the best gift you can give.  If you cannot bring yourself to do so, find someone who can.  It is not what she said that needed heard, it’s what she didn’t say.  And because she didn’t outwardly have a gash in her head, or a broken arm, she couldn’t possibly have been hurting.  Wrong.  A broken arm probably would have been easier to heal.

SJ, I didn’t personally know you, but I hope you have found the peace you needed.  I am so very sorry that you felt so alone. I am sorry that you felt you had to leave the stage in the "middle of your song." 

You call her a slow learner? Perhaps it is her teacher...

I am positive this post will piss some people off, especially if you are an educator.  However…I highly doubt the people I really need to read this, actually even follow my blog.  So it will be lost in translation somewhere.  Whatever.  I will feel better having said it.  And as always, you do not have to like what I say or agree with it, it matters not to me.  Don’t read this then.

It takes a special person to be a teacher.  Period.  I could elaborate on that but what is the point.  I mean for 9 months, this person spends more time with your child during the day than you do.  Some are really good.  Some are REALLY not.  I do not know if I would be a good teacher or not and that is not even the point.  A teacher should go into such career because their ultimate goal is to make a difference in a childs life, because we know it is not for the money.  Unfortunately some of them are in it for their own benefit.  Shut the front door!   YEP.  Let’s get those test scores up so a certain teacher can be viewed as the crème de la crème of teachers.  Well lemme tell you how I feel about tests and scores too.  In a minute.

When I was in college I had a psychology class that I absolutely adored.  I don’t remember what year or number or anything like that.  I just remember what I learned, which is saying something.  The topic at the time was learning styles.  How people learn.  There are several studies and several research methods but this one pertained to Fleming’s VAK/VARK model.  Stating the following:  That there are three types of “learners” in this world. 

Visual Learners
Auditory Learners
Kinesthetic Learners

The first two are rather obvious…a person learns either by seeing things (pictures, visual aids, handouts etc.) or they learn by listening (lectures, discussions, tapes, etc.) OR, the third lesser known of the group which is learning by experience (moving, touching, doing, experimenting.)

We took several tests and did a lot of research to show us how we all learn as individuals.  I, of course, was a combination of the 3.  To put it simply, I have to see something, hear something and then physically document it.  For example, in a lecture, I needed the visual aids, I had to concentrate on the lecture and I had to write notes as I learned.  To prepare for a test, I had to completely RE WRITE my notes.  That is how I studied for every single test in college.  And let me tell you it sucked.  But it was the only way I could “learn” it. 

This would have been extremely beneficial information to me growing up.  I sat in many classrooms with many people who could see something and KNOW IT.  Hear something and KNOW IT.  Experiment with something and get it.  It was so much harder for me because I needed to do all 3.  Frankly it pissed me off.  Still does.

The problem with teaching a group of children ALL ONE WAY is that they DO NOT ALL LEARN THE SAME WAY.  For some it is like riding a bike.  For some it is like drawing a picture.  For others it is so much harder.  But what happens when you teach every single student the same way?  You lose the ones who DO NOT LEARN the way you teach.  If you teach via lecture mostly, then only the ones that learn by listening are getting the majority of what you teach.  If you teach with visual aids mostly, you have lost the listening group.  And so on.

My point and I do have one (I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO TYPE THAT…) in a smaller education system such as the one I grew up and the one my nieces and nephews have been a part of, this is a HUGE PROBLEM.  WHY?  Because when the work becomes harder and you don’t separate these kids based on how they learn and teach them based on how they learn, the ones that can’t learn start falling off and get lost by the wayside. 

I understand you are asked to educate based on a set of standards that the school (your boss) requires of you and a certain curriculum that is required of you, but is it ALSO NOT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY as their educator to make it your damn business to figure out how these kids learn so that you DO NOT LOSE THEM? 

There are 1000 reasons a kid hates school.  Most of them are because they don’t get enough sleep.  They need more mini-wheats for breakfast too.  For their brain.  Sometimes it is stuff going down at home.  Sometimes it is peer pressure at school.  I could go on and on and on.  BUT.  Sometimes they hate school because they hate their teacher.  Why? Well as a parent, you should find out.  And maybe it’s a conflict of interest.  A personality difference.  Maybe it’s because as a teacher you play favorites.  OR MAYBE it’s because you as a teacher are the one to blame.  No, you are not going to have every single student like you, but you damn sure better want to know why.  There is a reason a child doesn’t like someone, who by nature does not just naturally know how to dislike people (this is learned.)  And I bet if someone gave a crap enough to figure out why a certain student was struggling to “connect” with you, the reason 90% of the time would be, BECAUSE THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE ASKING OF THEM. 

Why am I so angry about this?  I shall tell you.  My niece loved school last year.  Highest in her class on her ISAT tests or whatever the hell they are.  This year, it is like pulling teeth to get her to go to school.  She hates it.  Yes, she is getting older…yes she is getting more defiant…but that is way too big of a change if you ask me.  And apparently it is because she is “too slow” completing her work.  REALLY?  She is 10.  Apparently she has to miss recess because she has to sit at the “quiet table” and complete her work because she can’t get it done when the others do.  OK…WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?  Why is she taking so long?  Perhaps she doesn’t get it?  Perhaps she DOESN’T UNDERSTAND.  And if that is the case then it is your job as her teacher TO HELP HER GET IT.  If you lose this child now, you lose this child forever.  You can’t go back and forth between teachers who want to help her learn and then next year to one that expects her to know something she clearly doesn’t understand.

I went through this with my other niece.  And to this day she hates school.  She hates it because there are certain things SHE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND.  If you went into this career to TEACH children, then DO YOUR JOB.  Children do not all LEARN the same way.  I would hope wherever the hell YOU GOT YOUR EDUCATION that someone told you this along the way. 

As you can see, it infuriates me.  Because if you take this out of a child at 10 years old, you take it out of them forever.  What is it?  IT is the desire to learn.  Why the hell would you want to learn something you do not understand?

Okay.  I think I am done.  However, in regards to the testing.  It is a proven fact that any student on any given day will test high and then turn around and exactly one day later, the test results will be vastly different.  Murphy’s Law.  Or whatever is responsible.  Does this mean you are the best teacher because they all had a good day?  But to JUDGE a child’s worth based on said test?  Bullshit.  I had to take the ACT twice.  My guidance counselor said I was not smart enough for a 4 year college.  I retook the damn thing and the second time I met said college’s requirements and low and behold I graduated with a degree…interesting since I was not smart enough for one.

My point is it is hard enough as a child these days to fit in, to just simply be a kid.  It is even harder when you don’t understand something.  I thought a teacher’s job was to make sure this doesn’t happen.

But what do I know…I am neither a parent nor a teacher.  

It's Raining Cats and Dogs...

My morning began with a text message from Kolbie stating that the Christmas Fart Wars had begun.  How could you not laugh?  She rarely texts me…but when she does, it’s a good one.  However her phone signature when she texts says, “I know what you did last summer…” When asked why, she said “isn’t it fun to make people wonder what they did last summer?”  Yep, she is 10.  Unfortunately I was running late this morning because I wanted to stand in the shower all morning…man it felt good.

Phone rings…Sister: Yeah, you working today?  Me: Yeah, why? Sister: I’ve been in the driveway for 3 minutes and haven’t seen you.  I will just go get the kids first.  Me: Uh yeah, good idea.  20 seconds later horn blows…

Me: I had no idea it was raining so hard.  Sister: It’s been raining cats and dogs all night!  I love it, thunder in December!  Me: Yeah, and my morning started with Fart Wars!  Kolbie: That was from me!  Me: I know, are you in a really good mood today?  Sister: She hasn’t stopped talking since I picked her up, she was supposed to get up at 6, but she just couldn’t.  Me: Did you lie on the register too long this morning?  I stayed too long in the shower, it felt so good.  Kolbie: Yes, I did. 

Sister: Look at the radar, its pouring buckets out here.  Me: It looks like night time.  Sister: That’s exactly what Dalton said, and that we should just go back home and go back to bed.  Kolbie: If mom was taking us to school, we would be back home already, she doesn’t drive in the rain, only my Dad knows how.  Sister: But the thunder and lightning is cool, for December.  It’s raining so hard I might let you guys out at the doors in the back and you can walk through the school.  Kolbie: NO, I CAN’T WALK THROUGH THE HIGH SCHOOL.  Dalton: It is okay, I will walk with you Kolbie, Adam is eating breakfast right now, that’s all.  Whatever that meant…Dalton: I don’t think we are allowed to go through those doors though.  Sister:  Bull crap, Papa Jim was on the school board 100 years ago, if they have a problem, they can take it up with him.  Whatever that meant…

Me: My radar says light rain (its pouring.) Dalton: Light rain my ass.  It looks like it did that one day.  Kolbie: Yeah that day you got hit by a car.  Its even lightning on the river just like it did that day too.  See, there it goes.  Me: Yeah, I don’t think we should let them out in this Sister; Dalton doesn’t do well with rain and parking lots.  Dalton: YEAH, that day I needed a lighthouse light and a GPS just to get to the car.  Me:  We are so lucky you didn’t break your hip Dalton or something worse.  Actually the girl that hit you is so lucky your mom and dad didn’t put her in jail.  Dalton: Or at the very least, sued her ass.

Dalton: Kolbie, whatever you do, don’t go running in the gym with wet shoes and try to jump for the net.  You’ll land on your ass and mine hasn’t quit hurting since that one time when I tired it.  Me: (Trying not to laugh, but tears are falling out my face.) Sister: Oh yes, no running with wet shoes.  Look it’s letting up.  (As it begins to start pouring.)  Where do you guys want me to let you off?  Dalton: Yeah, check that radar that obviously isn’t working.  There are kids getting off here, this is fine, I don’t think we are allowed in the other way.  Kolbie:  Yeah, they are getting wet, we can do it.  Sister: For God’s sake don’t run!  

The Beginning and the End

I had lunch with my Grandma Louise yesterday.  My father’s Mother.  She just turned 85.  I can’t even imagine turning 45.  I sure as hell cannot wrap my hands around 40 more years after that.  I am quite fortunate in that I have all but one of my Grandparents left.  And none of them are in the nursing home.  Although that time is getting closer for my Grandpa Cliff (my father’s Father.) 

Grandpa has been failing for the past couple years now, but he is incredibly ornery, and of course refuses to go “into the home.”  He had to be in “bounce back” care for a while after he fell and smashed his face up pretty good.  It was actually a blessing for my Grandma who is basically trying to take care of them both and well, frankly she just shouldn’t have to.  But she too is too stubborn to put his butt in there.  I would imagine after some ungodly amount of years with someone, the concept of them not being there anymore, even if they are still alive, would be quite daunting.

The thing that struck me though is not all of the memories we have had with both of them and we have had a lot.  All 6 of us grandkids have been very lucky to call them our Grandparents.  And the great-grandkids are lucky too…but the thing that hit home the most after having lunch with them yesterday was how the beginning is so very much like the end.

What do I mean?  If a person is fortunate (depending on how this is viewed) enough to live well into their 80’s, 90’s or even beyond…most of them are going to be cared for just like an infant is after it comes into this world.  It was incredibly similar.  My Grandma referred to all of the times she had to get up to check on him, and the times he was supposed to have his meds, and changing his linens and soiled clothes etc.  She has home health come in and assist her, I know she wouldn’t have it any other way (although I firmly believe this is getting the best of her) but for the most part she takes on these tasks herself.  And she said “it’s almost like your Grandpa is a baby again”.  I cannot imagine being 85 years old and having to do that AGAIN.  He doesn’t speak very clear sentences anymore, but she understands what he wants and needs.  But isn’t that exactly what is happening?  The beginning is just like the end.  He is a crotchety old man too, so that doesn’t make caring for him any easier.

You hear a tremendous amount of negative things about Nursing Homes, elderly care takers etc. and it truly breaks my heart.  But the thing that broke my heart worse was when Grandma said she felt so bad for all the people who were there that no one cared to visit the entire time Grandpa was in bounce back.  And I think that is her biggest fear.  Will we still go see him?  We don’t get over to see either one of them enough now as it is, but I personally can’t imagine her having to make that choice as she herself knows it is getting too hard for her to go up by herself every day.  I think he said he would go if she would.  However, she isn’t ready herself.  It’s sad really.  But to the GOOD Nursing Home providers and the empathetic people whose primary job in life is to care for elderly people, I salute you, because it is not an easy task.  And not something just anyone can do.  You are the last person some of these people interact with and see and that is incredibly sad. 

I think if she could say so, Grandma would say she wants to be the last person Grandpa sees.  There are no guarantees when you put someone in the nursing home who that last person might be.  I don’t want to be in her shoes right now and it’s sad.  It is really sad to know that sometimes though, the beginning is exactly like the end. 

The Laws of Attraction...

I didn’t make them.  And frankly I don’t follow them.  I am pretty sure stuff like that doesn’t apply to me, since I kind of beat to my own drum…and I like to color outside the lines.  But we are all different.  “Different strokes for different folks.”  We all find different things that attract us to other things, people and places. 

According to my dear friends at Wikipedia, the Law of Attraction:  is a metaphysical belief that "like attracts like", that positive and negative thinking bring about positive and negative physical results, respectively.  According to the law of attraction, the phrase "I need more money" allows the subject to continue to "need more money". If the subject wants to change this they would focus their thoughts on the goal (having more money) rather than the problem (needing more money). This might take the form of phrases such as "I do have more money" or "I will have more money".

1.      Attraction itself has a variety of meanings: The action or power of evoking interest, pleasure, or liking for someone or something: "the timeless attraction of a good tune".  A quality or feature of something or someone that evokes interest, liking, or desire. So it doesn’t necessarily have to do with a person, although generally when we talk about being attracted to something we talk about it in terms of another human being.  I find many things attractive about another human being.

Glad I am not a Scientist...

Me: Good Morning Little People!  How are we today?  Dalton where the hell is your sister?  Dalton: She is coming.  I’m good.  Kolbie comes out with the cutest hat ever!!!!  Me: Good morning!  Kolbie: Ehhh.  Me: Damn, I wish you would be happy in the morning.  Kolbie:  Well it’s not ever going to happen.  Me: Right…that is sad. 

Me: Dalton James, guess what your Aunt Dee Dee saw on the way home from work last night.  A Pterodactyl.  She hit her brakes and covered my chest in protection and everything.  Dalton: Not possible.  Me: How do you know?  Where are you getting your scientific information?  Dalton: Uh, there would be stuff on the news, and have you heard of any?  It was probably an Eagle.  Me: Well, you should call her and tell her because she swears it was a dinosaur.  It had a big wing span.  It covered the whole window.  Dalton: Scientists did find a dinosaur fossil somewhere recently with a wing span of 17 feet.  Me: Holy crap that is a big bird.  I think Aunt Dee Dee saw its brother last night.  Dalton:  They are extinct, it’s not possible.  Me:  Whatever, YOU tell her that. 

Me: If I had to be a dinosaur I would want to be a Pterodactyl just because it is so fun to say.  What would you be?  Dalton: A megosauraus.  Me: I don’t even know what the heck is.  Dalton: Bigger than a T-Rex. Me: Are you sure, I thought he was the biggest.  Dalton: Oh hell no, there are many larger than him.  Like the Brontosaurus.  He was longer and had a bigger body (and some other stuff I stopped listening to.) Kolbie: I want to be that dinosaur that swam in the ocean.  Me: What was that called?  Kolbie: I have no idea.  Me: Whale? Dalton: What kind?  Me: I don’t know, I suppose it had some ridiculous name.  Dalton: Whales were here before dinosaurs?  Me: You know this how, were you there?  Dalton: Duh, the world was covered in water. The dinosaurs came later. 

Me: Yeah well I think there are other planets with life on them.  Dalton: Oh hell yes.  The galaxy is too big for us to be stupid enough to think we are the only living creatures in it.  Me:  Yeah, like the punk who claims Pluto is not a planet.  Dalton: No SHIT!  What the hell is it then?  An asteroid?  No, it’s not made up of the right material.  It’s not a star either.  Me: I just don’t know if I should trust you, since you weren’t there and all, I think you are just making stuff up.  Dalton: Uh, don’t you think that is what all scientists do?  Guess? Half the time they don’t know which way is right or which way is left.  Me: Like a weather man… Dalton: Yeah, I think scientists are probably just weatherman who couldn’t do that job very well.

Me thinking: This is entirely too much intellectual conversation before I have coffee.  Ok well, this has been a fun, learning ride.  Have a great day at school!  I love you.  Dalton: Love you.  Kolbie: Growling, Love you.  Dalton: KOLBIE, be careful getting out of the car, it’s very slick.  Me thinking: Oh my God he does love his sister. 

  

Dear 16 Year Old Tiffany...

Dear 16 Year Old Tiffany-

Run. Run now.  And hide.  Life gets so much harder than you think it is at this moment.  No, don’t run and hide, but my God I wish I could warn you about all the things that will come your way. 

Your first car will be a Grand Prix.  You will love it for as long as you have it…which won’t be very long.  It will be followed by a Silver Thunderbird.  This also doesn’t last long…which will eventually bring the car you are madly in love with, your white Grand Am.  You will have a lot of fun in that little guy…and it will get you through college.  It will be a very sad day when you trade this in, but don’t worry about that; it will be several years from now.

Right now you are in love.  Your mother says you are not, that you cannot possibly be in love at the age of 16.  (The interesting thing is she was in love at that age and it took her almost 40 years but she is now back with her first love.)  You have never felt this way about anyone before.  It’s the first time that you realize what it means to be with someone who makes you feel like you are “home.”  He thinks you are gay.  You will do nothing to make him think this, it is merely his feelings.  This devastates you.  Crushes you and your spirit.  You are positive you are going to die and you cry for days.  He was partially correct.  You will learn this in about 10 years.  You will also learn that for you, love knows know gender.  The majority of the world won’t accept that.  It will come a long way in your lifetime, but it will still have light years to go, the world that is and its acceptance of all people.  The last night you are together, the night he breaks up with you, you will remember the clouds, the moon, the way the air feels.  You will remember telling him you love him and his response being, “I know.”  Still at the age of 39, you will remember what those clouds looked like.  You think he is the last boy you will ever love.  He will definitely not be.  And he definitely will not be the last PERSON you ever love. 

You know where you want to go to college and what for.  And you will do it exactly the way you are telling everyone you are going to do it. 

You are in love with Minnesota and you will spend some amazing years of your life there, however you already know this. 

No Blog Today...

We regret to inform you that there will be no Totally, In A Tiff Blog today.  I used all of my creative energy to host yet another fantastic Holiday Cheer party last evening and I am tapped out.  Some claim that I started the Holiday Cheer too early and that I will have none left for when the Holiday actually gets here.  Perhaps.  But if today was my last day on earth, I would know I gave em hell last night.

Peace out peeps...I will be back tomorrow with some really important news...possibly about my future?

Bittersweet...

Me.  Holding Uncle Brad's cat Tomasina

This past weekend Sister, Bella and Kolbie showed up at 7:30PM on Saturday night with RumChata, Hungry Hobo, and the Sorry game in tow.  They wanted to surprise me with Family Game Night.  Oh it was a surprise all right.  Since I was trying to get through the 2^nd of 3 massive headaches that weekend and especially since Sorry is my 2^nd least favorite board game next to Monopoly.  After the game was over, (thank the Lord it went fairly quick,) I was trying to usher them out the door because Sister was giving Brodie licks of RumChata and my head was pounding, when out of nowhere her and Kolbie start going through the basement (my house mind you) like a scene from American Pickers.

Me: Dear God, what are you doing?  Sister: Looking for treasures.  Me: What the hell could you possibly need from this basement?  Sister: How will I know if I don’t look.  See here is a bottle of Mogan David wine Dad and Janet can share over the holidays.  Me: Dear God really, it’s probably 40 years old.  Sister: Well doesn’t wine get better with age?  Look here you have a wine from Germany, look at all this wine you have.  Me: Well I sure as hell wouldn’t drink that, I don’t even know who it would have come from.  That is REALLY OLD.  Don’t you need to go home?  Sister: (She has moved to Dad’s office) I am looking for a shirt to wear to bed.  I love your old shirts that you just toss.  Oh, here are some shorts.  Kolbie: LOOK, PAPA KEPT ALL MY DOLLS!  See here is proof.  Me: Oh yes, that is lovely, if you take it home, your mother will kill us both, it really is time for you guys to go.  Sister: Oh!  I FOUND PICTURES!  This is that trip to Minnesota when Tar (Brother) puked.  Kolbie look at your Dad, he was so stinking cute!  Kolbie: He’s not now.  Me: Oh my God, please take the whole box with you and sort it out at home, I have to lay down NOW.

Needless to say, they finally left, but not without a few “treasures.”  Most of them being pictures.

Why do we go back through old photos?  Well to reminisce of course.  Sometimes a photo can remind you of a time and place and just like that you can be back there in a second.  You can instantly remember the moment as if it was yesterday.  Well I can.  Sister not so much.  She barely remembers driving to work every day.

I don’t mind old photos from when I was a youngster…a tyke.  I was cute.  Adorable really.  I suppose it could be argued that I still am, but I would not agree with you.  You can show me pictures of my past 40 years all you want.  MINUS the pictures from Minnesota.  I am not kidding.  Those bring back memories that border on being so wonderful and so painful at the same time that I cannot decide which way my heart wants to go.  I guess that is what they call Bittersweet.  It could be because when people see them they say, oh my gosh you were so skinny.  I was and never WILL be skinny, but yes, I was a lot lighter.  You would be too if you taught aerobics for 2 hours every day and you worked in a fitness center.  It certainly was a different time in my life. 

If you haven’t done so in awhile, go find some old pictures, grab a beverage (of your preference, or whatever may help you get through them) and go back…

Oh the things I would tell that little girl now if I could!

The RumChata Epidemic

If you live under a rock, you do not know what RumChata is.  And I feel bad for you.  But I am about to do my civic duty as a human being an educate you. 

Let’s get the boring stuff out of the way right out of the gate…

WHAT IS IT:  So as not to sound redundant and plagiarize how about you just go to their website and research this yourself?  You must be 21 or older.  Which always fascinated me, because who the hell is going to say no?  Anyway, click on this link; you will be glad you did.  http://www.rumchata.com/

More importantly than what it is, is probably how it entered my life.  Through my sister.  And it entered her life through our friend Christy.  (Who was named after the Lord Jesus himself, so it is only fitting that she is kind of turning “water into wine” which is quite fascinating.)  I am not 100% sure how the story goes, but I am positive one of them will correct me if it is wrong.  Apparently Christy was having a fire in her fire pit one night and invited whoever wanted to come and if they wanted to know what to bring her, they could bring her some RumChata.  Well.  Sister, being the inquisitive person that she is, thought what the hell is that, so she did what she should have done and she Googled it.  She knew immediately that she would love it.  I knew immediately if she loved it so much I would not, we have nothing in common.  I will admit I was wrong.

What's a Ginger?

Ride to school conversation, two days ago.  

Me:  Good morning little people, how are we today?  Silence… Should we sing Christmas songs?  Dalton & Kolbie: NO! Me:  Man you guys stink. 

Me: I think when you guys told me about Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber breaking up, you didn’t know what you were talking about, because it appears they are together.  You don’t think he is really the father of that girl’s baby do you?  Dalton & Kolbie: NO!!!  Dalton: Do you know how long she was back stage with him?  30 Seconds.  It doesn’t take an idiot to know it takes longer than that.  Me: Thinking oh dear God please don’t make me be the one to have to have this conversation with them.  Sister: Besides have you seen her?  I wouldn’t touch her with a 10’ pole?  Dalton:  Laughing hysterically.  HA HA, That’s pretty good Aunt Dee Dee, I have never heard that before.  At school we call her a Ginger.  Sister: What the heck is a Ginger?  Dalton:  It is when a girl has red hair and lots of freckles.  Sister to Me: Adele calls herself a Ginger.  Me: Well Adele is the most beautiful Ginger I have ever known.  Sister: Some of them are cute.

Sister: It’s just down a DNA test now.  Me: Well why do you think this girl is trying to frame Justin, publicity?  Dalton: Uh yeah, the same reason the Casey Anthony crap won’t end.  Kolbie:  I am so sick of hearing about her; the whole world knows she killed Caylee.  Dalton:  Yeah and now she is moving around the world probably going to do it in other places too.  Me:  I heard she is in Mexico right now.  Dalton: I don’t doubt it, for sure half way there at least.  Me: Well for your sake I hope the Justin thing ends soon.  Dalton: Who’s sake?  Me: Yours.  Dalton: Why?  He doesn’t affect my life in any way; I could give a shit less.  Sister:  Yeah Dalton and I are not affected by this crap in the least.  Kolbie:  He’s not the Dad.  Me: OOOOOOK THEN…well you guys sure do know a lot about the entertainment worlds current events!  Dalton:  Because my mom has the news on 24/7.  It’s kind of hard not to know what is going on in the world.  It’s how we fall asleep.

Me: Speaking of sleep, Kolbie, maybe you should spend the night with Aunt Tiff for a few days.  Kolbie: Why?  Me: So you can get some sleep and not be so crabby in the morning.  I go to bed at 8.  Sister:  She is NOT KIDDING.  Kolbie:  I know, I have spent the night before and we go to bed cause it’s so boring.  Me:  Well you must be tired cause you sure sleep a long time when you come to my house.  Kolbie:  Because we don’t do anything but sleep.  And I DO NOT go to sleep at 8.  I may be in bed then, but not asleep.  Last night I didn’t sleep at all hardly, I was very uncomfortable.  Kolbie:  Well, for sure it’s what we do at your house.  Sleep.  Totally not fun. 

The Heart of Christmas

We know that I hate cancer.  We know that I specifically hate childhood cancer.  We know that cancer has affected my life as it has probably many of yours.  It is currently affecting my little cousin Jett, who is 4 and battling leukemia (ALL.)  It is incredibly hard to follow his journey online especially the pictures of “before” they knew he had it.  Virtually watching cancer enter and invade his life.  Having no children of my own I personally cannot fathom how his mom and dad are dealing with it, except that I know they just have to.

If you are from our area you may or may not have followed the Dax Locke story; the little guy from Washington, Illinois who lost his battle with cancer.  I started following his story about half way through, so I don’t know a lot of the back story, but I know that through the power of Facebook and his CaringBridge Website, his story got to thousands of people.  The city of Washington, in an overwhelming show of support, stood behind this family in ways most people can’t imagine, actually the entire state of Illinois and the rest of the country, primarily because of the power of social networking.  It’s nice to see it used for good instead of evil. 

Last night the Rave theatre in Peoria hosted a special showing of the new movie The Heart of Christmas.  The movie is the Dax Locke story, also featuring Matthew West, a Christian singer/songwriter who wrote a song for them based on his story.  The movie was sponsored by The Children’s Hospital of Illinois, in Peoria. Proceeds were given to the Dax Locke foundation which was set up to raise enough money to run The St. Jude Children’s Hospital in Memphis Tennessee for 1 day, which costs roughly 1.7 million.  To date, the foundation has raised 1.6 million.  $20,000 was raised last night, I believe just through ticket sales.  The entire theatre was set up with Dax Locke foundation information, items, and donation boxes.  T-shirts, ornaments, pretty much everything you can imagine.

When we arrived, the line to get in was wrapped around the theatre.  If you have been to the theatre you will know that this means you are not very close to the door.  I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why if we had a ticket the line was so long and I had to pee so bad, I considered going behind a car.  Until it occurred to me that none of these children asked for cancer.  I didn’t need to complain about waiting in line or being uncomfortable.  It was a short wait and then the line moved swiftly.