HMD #33: Back to virtual reality...

Hello friends....yes, I am alive! I am well! Thank you for your kind inquiries. The Beloved is still in town (yay!), but leaves tomorrow (boo!).

I can report that the Prom went relatively well. The Athlete was still in a fair amount of pain and under strict orders to take it easy and only dance the slow dances, which he did - each one - with the Princess. He had a better date with Vicodin than with the girl, who was torn at first between staying at his side/minding him and mingling with the others there. As it turned out, she was glad that she chose to stay at his side, unglamorous as it may have been, because all of the "dancing" to anything with a remotely upbeat tempo involved her least favorite high school dance pasttime....grinding. Here are kids in tuxes and some crazy-expensive silk and satin gowns rubbing pelvises together and, as she put it "basically having sex with their formalwear on," in a basement of a fraternal order's lodge that smelled of fifty-plus years of beer, sweat, fish fry, cigarettes and despair. Ughhhhh....

As the lone freshman present, she came away having had a nice time, but being disillusioned with the rite of passage that is prom, and wondering if it will be worth going to it again for each of the next three years. But she will go, because it is what is done. However, she vows that she will chair the prom committee so that future proms will be at tonier venues such as the country club, not the area's various lodges - cheap prices notwithstanding.

That's our girl.

As for the future of our senior-freshman couple....well....graduation is Friday. Graduation parties abound for the next two weekends. Then it's summertime. She's dusting off the Jane Austen collection and stocking up on magazines and iTunes. He's planning roadtrips to amusement parks and pilgrimmages to such gourmand lures as Chik-Fil-A.

We shall see what transpires.

I am not optimistic, but that's okay. They each need to do some growing up, and that may well involve growing apart. It's a matter of doing so without hard feelings....and that, friends, isn't easy at any age.

HeloMom out - but I shall return in a day or two, once we're Belovedless and readjusted to the empty spot at the dinner table.

May Daze

Ugh...what a week. For some reason, I stupidly believed that I could repaint my kitchen in 2-3 days.

Yeah....NO.

For starters, I now know that I have a total of 27 cabinets in my kitchen, and 13 drawers. So I had to empty all that, sorting and dumping stuff as I went. You don't want to know what my dining room looks like. The table I was given by my m-i-l when we moved here has four leaves, is 120" long, comfortably feeds 14 adults, and (tightly) manages 20. It is completely covered with pantry contents and my many sets of dishes and glassware. (The butler's pantry, with all the china and crystal, will have to wait...) All the chairs are occupied, too. And the radiator that runs the length of the room. And most of the floor.

At the same time as all this chaos has erupted in my dining room, I am attempting to persuade the 2 y/o that climbing over formerly impassable baby gates to inspect the carnage is BAD. He does not believe me. So far the dogs have broken in and eaten some crackers and, strangely, meat seasoning packets (venison seasoning, sloppy joe mix, and pepper rub - WTH?). Jack keeps slinking around and slithering through the glassware just to mess with my mind, or perhaps cause me to drop dead of a heart attack so he can feast on my fat carcass for a few weeks. No one would find me in there until I started to smell really bad. And even then....

Anyway.

Then there was the patching and sanding. The day I planned to do that, I wrenched something in my lower back while catching the baby gate scaler in mid-vault, got stiff and sore...and had 2 days of sciatica as my reward. In the midst of this, the Athlete texted to me that he was in the school office, having decided to smite some obnoxious kid who routinely badmouths him for dating a freshman during gym class. (Senioritis, anyone?). Had to provide lots of advice and counsel to ensure that privileges such as prom were not revoked, and then had to ensure that Princess did not smite Athlete for his display of fisticuffs, which, while well-intended, was not worth the trouble that ensued. (She thought he could have handled it more rationally, he was incensed that she did not appreciate his defense of her honor after months of snarkiness from that kid).

Then late that afternoon, I finally spackled. It rained for the next 36 hours, so it took forever to dry....and so I waited overnight, then I started sanding that next morning. A mayday call came in from the Princess from a school locker room. She was walking between classes with one of Athlete's wrestler friends, deep in conversation about a very serious alleged incident -- wherein said friend's former girlfriend was taken advantage of by another boy at a party -- when the offending boy crossed paths with them. Wrestler friend (smaller by a foot and about 150 lbs lighter than his target) took the alleged offender out at the legs and proceeded to pound the snot out of him. Princess' horrified screams alerted the faculty, and after several attempts, Wrestler friend was finally pulled off, bloodied knuckles and all, and dragged off to the principal's office. The alleged offender was well and truly pummelled, and had blood flowing from several spots. Princess, having never seen anything close to that kind of violence, was teary, shaking uncontrollably, and had to sit with a nun until I came to fetch her. The nurse's office, the vice-principal's office, and the principal's office were all full of bleeding boys and outraged parents.

So I got the kid home, got the walls primed, then the phone calls from curious kids, parents, and those who hoped to obtain free legal advice started pouring in. Wrestler friend actually showed up late that night to apologize to Princess for scaring her, and proceeded to pour his heart out on my couch for two hours, praying that he will not be expelled, but unashamed of having avenged the outrage perpetrated upon the alleged victim. (I'm just waiting to see how much of this makes the police blotter...and how much is covered up about this party, its attendees, and the alleged incident). I'll let you know how it turns out.

What's the term the Amish use for "spring madness" again? Well it has hit our town and the quasi-Catholic high school with a vengeance.

Oh, yes, and did I mention that I had a brief due as well? What would have taken me 3-4 hours sequestered in my office back in the day, took me about 14 hours over the course of three days, with so many interruptions, derailed trains of thought, and lost bits of legal brilliance and clever word usage....GAAAAHHHH!!!! Not my best work, but it hit the fax machine and went to its destination nonetheless.

Today I was supposed to be putting everything back in the cabinets, reattaching the finished, freshly painted doors, and admiring the pretty new paint job. But no. I still have chaos in the dining room, white primer, and completely untouched cabinet doors and drawers waiting to be done, and three gallons of lovely light blue and coordinating delft blue sitting patiently next to the dishwasher waiting to "transform my [friggin'] space."

Whatever.

Looks like another week of fast food and takeout.

The "Smartest And Happiest Person" reflects...

Further to my last post, I thought a lot about this comment - although I don't agree with such glowing superlatives - over the weekend.*

The student who wrote that on my eval (it's supposed to be anonymous, but I know...) is a 17 year old college freshman. She asked me at the last class why I was always in such a good mood, even when describing real-life legal conundrums and horrific crimes in class.

I told her the simple truth - I've had a great life. There are a number of things I've always wanted in my life, and I'm blessed enough to have them: a loving, once-in-a-lifetime marriage, 3 beautiful, "whole" children, I've achieved my education and career goals, and just enough money (not a lot, trust me!) to travel and see as much of God's creation as I can. Sure, there's lots of sad, difficult, and bad things mixed in there - I wish I'd had a happier upbringing with married parents, and sometimes I mourn for the sad, lonely, and hurt child that I was - but one thing I've learned along the way is that the only way to be happy is to make that crucial choice: to be happy, to have faith that God is there alongside me in the best AND worst times, and even when the worst happens, to just keep moving forward.

"Cool!" said she.

If that young girl remembers anything I taught her, I'd prefer it be that instead of anything related to business law.

It took a lot of hard work to get to my happy place...some by me, but mostly by my Guardian Angel, who has to be some sort of gargantuan holy warrior/principality specially assigned by St. Michael to carry me along and get me out of more than a few scrapes - no easy task in my wild youth! If angels really had wings, I've gotta believe mine would be pretty beat up and missing a few feathers. :)

So, yes, although much of my recent posting has been rather gloomy, rest assured that I am more Tigger than Eeyore, and I love my life and my family. Even the crazies and the jerks. There but for the grace of God...well, except maybe I do fit into the "jerk" category, depending on who you ask. But don't we all, sometimes?

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[*especially after my m-i-l, who's been a confidante over the years, said to me "it's amazing how nice and how normal you are with some of the stuff you've gone through in your life!" LOL!]

Spring Cleaning

Well, it's been a wild ride this past week or so. Time to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. (Someone out there knows who sang that song...I don't!)

Between being worried sick about things I can't fix (Dad), stressing over the "will they hire me full time at the college or not?"/cutting back on one area of practice in favor of another /career choices, and getting to work at losing another 10 lbs, I got confirmation yesterday...my mother has announced she's "coming to see her grandchildren" this coming weekend. Oy. Vey.

As some of you know, on top of the Dad disaster, I'm in the midst of a dysfunctional family version of Celebrity Deathmatch with my mother, with whom I normally get along pretty well. No long story or gory details, but since my younger-older brother dumped his wife of 17 years and married a now-former call girl while he was working in the Philippines, I've fallen into disfavor with my mother and sibs for not being real "open" to, or otherwise fawning over, the new bride/marriage. In fact, it disgusts me. So after going back to Chicago in January, I've learned that I am "too conservative," among other things (Nah, just a relatively serious Catholic) and the battle began. I am Godmother to my niece and nephew, whose lives were just thrown into utter chaos by their self-proclaimed atheist and morally vacant (IMHO) father, and I can't stand to see my beautiful former sister in law so utterly broken and bereft. She's my age, and married my then-Army officer brother at 21. Her whole existence was her family life, and she's still shellshocked 2 years later. Oh, here I go making it a long story, and I said I wouldn't.

So anyway, time to get out of my head - which I clearly need to do, eh? - and into some long-put-off projects, like finishing off the painting the giraffe pattern on the wall in the baby's room, preparing for the Memorial Day yard sale to end all yard sales, putting all the winter stuff into storage, doing more planting, walking along the river with the tribe and pack, and getting ready for another all-too-short NY summer. In that spirit, I'm just tinkering about a bit with the color scheme here (beige was boring, blue is more "brook-y" and Marian, anyway), pondering what color to paint my kitchen, and thanking our dear Lord that despite my wackadoodle family and its history, I am "one of the smartest and happiest people alive."

A Year With A Miracle

Happy First Birthday to our precious little boy!

After seven long years of heartache, and seven little angels who went to heaven before we met them, this beautiful little man came into our lives on a sunny Spring Sunday afternoon. We are so blessed. Thank you Sts. Catherine of Sweden, Gerard, Gianna, Jude, our Blessed Mother, and our Guardian Angels for so many prayers answered.

(Tawk amungst yuhselves, I'm verklempt again!)

More pictures tomorrow...

Opening Day!

[Update: Crap!!!]

Shout-out to Ma Beck...

3/31/08: Cubs v. Brewers, 1:20 PM WT (that's Wrigley Time)

GO CUBS GO ! ! !

The Boy after his first pilgrimmage to Wrigley 8-07

AND the winner is.....

.....Sanibel Island, FL.

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The vacation poll is closed!

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Yes, I shall welcome (?) my 40th by attending Easter morning Mass with the family, then hop on a plane and end it on a lovely, white-sandy beach, hopefully with some sort of umbrella-bearing cold adult beverage in hand.

For those who've never heard of it, Sanibel is a resort island in SW Florida, connected by a long bridge (causeway) to Ft. Myers, which is just over an hour south of Tampa.

I've been there twice, with friends whose parents owned a timeshare back in the mid-80's, and it was lovely. (And far less expensive!)

Sanibel is renowned for shelling...I still have a few good ones, and a lovely bit of fire coral, all these years later

I am taking the oldest child along....she's had a rough few months at school, having "outed" some of her peers for bullying. So now she's on the receiving end, feeling that she did the right thing, but being friendless at 14 is not easy. So a mini-break from the wretched she-dogs of the quasi-Catholic Jr. High will be good for her. She, being a major whitey, will be under the cabana, while I, with some strange ability to tan that comes every other generation in my Irish-German-Alsatian genetic stew, will be brown as a coconut within 48 hours. (Yes, I know we are not supposed to do that to our skin anymore, but given the long, dark, cold, snowy upstate winter, 1) don't really give a damn, and 2) let's just say I consider it therapy for my S.A.D. issues. Hmmmm.....I wonder if it's a tax writeoff....?)

So, I shall watch the sun set on my 30's and enjoy the halftime show for a few days, then back to reality.

(Nothing says "buzzkill" like 5 workers' compensation hearings in 2 days when I step off the plane!)

This was a painstaking process. I wanted to do something new and unusual. I very nearly chose 4 days in Iceland - yes, Iceland - because it was a strange and unique, once in a lifetime kind of trip, friends have raved about it, and hey, you only turn 40 once. But I had qualms about leaving the family so far behind.

Then I got some great info, and a killer potential deal on a Dublin package for St. Patrick's Day, staying at the Clarence with a potential "surprise" U2 appearance...but I could not stand the look of pain in the beloved's eyes at the thought of me doing that without him. He could not take time away that week. He was the baby seal, I was the club. Not right at all.

Last week was looking a lot like London - crazy cheap fares and a desire to take tea at Harrods, and then pop over to Harvey Nic's and look for Patsy & Edina. But then, I've done that (didn't find Patsy & Edina then, either...).

So, I ended up staying in the States, spending far less, feeling very little guilt, and will be going to a place I have fond memories of at the same age as the oldest is now. We shall have bonding moments, a convertible rental car, and be back in the wee hours on Thursday. (For those who are wondering, the 10 year old and I explored Charleston together last summer, so she is not being overlooked, but she's sure miffed at the moment. Sometimes a little one-on-one time with Mom - and Mom with girl - is a very good thing!)

I will take lots of picture and give you all a review when I return!

Uh oh.

Here it comes.

I fell asleep with the baby and missed evening Mass, woke up not knowing where I was, or what time of day...legs and back achy, eyes burning, throat and ears unhappy...and I have a big nasty hearing in the morning.

Yuck.

March is here!

....and it is 5* outside. Yay. We did see our first robin on 2/17, so I know there is hope....