2011...

(Inside:)
Hope Your Holidays Aren't Too Frosty.

Best. Christmas. Card. Ever.

Another year has past, and I sit here doing one of my most favorite things.

Revisiting the year as I recorded it.

(Feel free to click on any of the highlights to remember it with me)

January saw another visit by Stroller Guy, a butt load of snow days, and random conversations with the kids.  It was also the month where I began to tell you stories both good and bad.

February brought about new characters by the names of Walter, Ezio, and the Anonymous Male.  It was also the month I made you all jealous of my  Sundays.

March was the month of the Bag O' Stupid and the start of How To Tuesdays  which were incredibly informative.  Oh how I wish Christie would start them up again.  Youngest turned 9 and saved the free world., and I let you all use my new bathroom.

In April we took in the NBA, and I took parenting lessons from Michael Jordan. It was also the start of Truth Is Thursday.  Going back through them, Truth is...  it seems I have always needed a nap.

April Showers brought May flowers, but May also brought my niece's dress for the wedding, and some Extreme Couponing.

I had some conversations with Youngest in June,  and Oldest as well.  It was also held the single best memory Oldest has ever had of his father, and when I discussed the need for an app that could turn your phone into a taser.

July found us in NH at the balloon festival very early in the morning,  the start of the basement renovation still underway.  We found our way to a Red Sox Game, and the hidden gem of Lake Compounce in CT.

August was the wedding. 'Nuff said.

September, the boys started fourth and fifth grade and Bonus Brother started his Senior year of High School, as we honeymooned in Vegas.  I tried making Gluten Free Pop Tarts, and told 'y'all where I'm from.

October brought about my 37th year, I attempted to cut back on my sugar intake,  and took the kids to the zoo.

November was the month Oldest turned 11., we played poker (sort of) and killed the beast. I put up the Christmas tree, and tried to become a professional cyclist.

December closed out the year, with a roller coaster of ups and downs.  The boys paid their respects as they finished the epic novel that is their history with their father.  Christmas came and went, and here we are full circle.

Another year down, a new year ahead...

...full of amazing things yet to be discovered.

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is... It's better late than never.  Right?  Come on!  Work with me people!

Truth is... I was down stairs doing laundry and heard the all too familiar click click of the furnace.  Seems someone forgot to check the propane levels.  And by someone, I mean me.  Seems when someone always takes care of it, there is no one to check up on that same someone to ensure it as done. *sigh*  It's gonna be a long night of camping out in the living room.

Truth is... there were many apologies awaiting me at work today along with two cards.  I really, really just want to leave it behind me, ya know?

Truth is... when a certain boy Oldest leaves the empty milk jug out on the counter in the morning, it really, really smells come 6 PM in the evening.

Truth is...  Tony's picking up milk tonight on his way home from his buddy's house.  He just doesn't know it yet.

Truth is... I have the day off tomorrow.  It's packed full of stuff that needs to get done including calling for a propane delivery  getting a new sticker on the car.  I am not having any warm and fuzzies about it passing.  I feel the time is coming to put the old girl down.

Truth is...  Bonus Brother is with us all week, so he can attend a driver's ed class during vacation.  It's been nice having him around.

Truth is... It's a lot harder adding another kid into the mix as well as picking up/dropping off than I originally thought.  Thank God I abandoned my original plan to have four children.

Truth is... Bonus Brother agreed to cut his hair while he was here.  This is him before with it tied back, looking all snazzy for the wedding...

And this is him now... holding his hair....

He donated it to Locks Of Love, not to be confused with Locks For Love which is an entirely different web site all together...thankyouverymuch.  Anyway, here's hoping the new wig will make some child with Cancer's day. 

Truth is... I am meeting up with my girlfriend for breakfast on Monday morning.  I'm in some serious need for some girl gossip/nonsense time.

Truth is... Tony's watching the kids for me.

Truth is.... he doesn't know it yet.

Truth is... I have a number of posts brewing in the noggin. and on several thousand scraps of teeny tiny papers. I'm thinking New Year's  will be spent in bed, with cocoa, and the laptop.

Truth is... it's your turn!

The One In Which I Whine Like A Big Baby....

Okay, here's the thing.  I am blessed.  Really and truly blessed by the life that I have and all the wonderful people in my life.  I have not lost sight of that, nor am I discounting the amazingness of it all.  But, December has been a really tough month for me, and I'm just not in a really good place right now.  So, on Christmas Eve, when Tony looked at me and said "How'd ya make out with the regulars?" I wanted to throw up. 

Every day, I go to work, and while I am not the best in the office, I try.  I stay late, take extra pieces, cover what needs to be covered and help out in ways that go way above and beyond what's actually my job.  I have held down routes when people are out and ensure they come back to a cleaner route than when they left.  I write up the trucks so no one gets stuck out on the road the next day, and I never leave a truck without gas.  Honestly, there's probably only one other person at work that I can say does that as well.  One other person out of 15.

As a typical rule, the regulars can make excesses of $1,000 at Christmas time, in addition to gift cards and goodies.  Some share these thank yous from the road, and some do not.  That is fine, and it is their choice.  But weather they share a gift with the substitutes or not, most of the time there is at least a card exchanged or at the very least, a Thank You.

This year, I got one.  From another substitute carrier.  Honestly, until Tony said something, I hadn't even noticed.  But once I did, it ate a hole in my stomach.  Not because of the lack of gift, but becasue of all the extra I do, and it wasn't even acknowledged.  The holiday came and went, I stopped acting like a big baby and went into work, did JUST my job and went home. 

This morning, I found out that a bunch of the regulars had gone to another senior sub and pooled money for the carriers that have been bouncing around on all the routes.  He divided it up amongst them, and excluded the PTFs from the gifting as he would be taken care of by his primary route, and myself and the other girl would be taken care of by ours.  This would have been fine by me.... had he said a word. 

But he didn't.  And since the regular I sub for who was supposed to take care of me, didn't so much as utter Merry Christmas to me, I was left with not just feeling crappy, but with the feeling of the entire office confirming that I suck at my job.

Now, when two of the regulars who contributed found out I was cut from the list, they were furious. (Which is how I found out at all)   I've been told they are going to make it right, but honestly, it doesn't matter much now.  What's worse is the senior sub who decided what to do was supposed to be my friend. And, even though he did what I would have done, who was he to decide for me?

Add to this, that I am having a difficult time with my ex's demise.  Crazy, I know, but I am.  I'm not even sure if I can phrase this so anyone could understand, but here goes.  First, I am sad that he was that sad.  That he had lost sight of the good things in his life and was so depressed that there was no hope in sight.  I am sad that he had to lie to everyone to cover that up.  I am sad that he wasn't the man that he should have been to the boys, and that if he ever could have changed (although  highly unlikely), he can't now.

I know it was not my job to save him, fix his problems, or cover for him.

I know that if I had done anything different, the boys and I would have been in jeopardy, or worse, it could have been our ashes that were spread.

I KNOW that the kids lives will be better having gotten off the roller coaster.

I am incredibly pissed that he always got to take hiatus from parenthood.  That he never had to bear the responsibility of being a real parent.

I am scared that someday my kids will look at this time and hate me for some part of it.  Some way that I handled something, or someone, during this time.  That I didn't allow them to grieve enough, be sad, or remember him.  But in truth, they don't really want to do that.  They want to play and have friends over.  They wanted to go to school, to talk with their friends, and teachers.  They want things to be normal.

I am really scared that I am now the only parent.  Which I realize is not really different than before, but now it's official. Ya know?

And so, here I sit, in my funk.

It also doesn't help that I have three months of hormone crash coming on either.

I will be better tomorrow. 

Honest.

Do not worry, I'm fine, really, just in a funk is all.

Ghosts Of Christmas...

So my newly departed ex-husband seems to have only stayed around our house for a week or so, and now appears to have moved on.  I suspect that he wanted to make sure the boys were doing okay and has either crossed over, or is making a mess of his family's house.  They say that that is common with those who have passed on unexpectedly.  Either way, the pictures have stopped falling from the walls and the kids are no longer waking up and interrupting us when Tony and I try to get our snuggle on.  The house still has an uncanny chill to it, but I think I can take care of that with some good old fashioned winterizing.

My last post was about Tony's gift, or rather his off-the-list gift.  Some of you questioned what it was that I received.  That is, aside from a ghost free home and peace of mind.  Well, I'll tell ya.  After a long, car ride conversation regarding my annoyance at Tony's need to just buy stuff  for me and how 80% of the gifts become just things under the tree, I had to eat my words.  And wash them down with a giant glass of humble.  I may have even mumbled the words, You were right.

This year, every gift I got meant something.  A new bathrobe to replace the robe I have worn since I was pregnant with oldest.  New slippers because my feet are always cold.  New silverware, free of scratches from when the boys take the spoons to dig in the yard, or the butter knives to turn screws.  A digital picture frame to display the photos of all our adventures in a constant loop.  A Magic Bullet blender to replace the old blender I have had *cough, cough* for twenty years* since my freshman year of college.  There was even a gift card for the Kindle Fire my parents got me, so I could buy Elisa's book and lose myself in her journals.

So, about mid day I popped on the computer to search for accessories for the Fire.  I must say that if there's one thing I hate, it's that when something is new, the accessories cost a fortune.  And they all tend to look the same.  I found this cover by Kate Spade, and while it's cute, it doesn't have the options I wanted within the cover.  And Hello?  $69?  No thanks.  Anyway, afterwards I dozed off a bit.  I dreamt that I had a cover made of this crazy burgundy print with Hawaiian themed turtles through it. 

(Actual fabric has tie dyed swirls
 and is less pink than this.
 My photography skills are weak my friends.)

Weird I know.  What was even weirder is that when I woke up, the fabric was in my attic already.

About six months before she got sick, my grandmother had given me a bunch of fabric scraps to do something with.  Not being a quilter, and having very little in the way of projects that required scraps, I threw the bag into the attic and forgot all about it.  So there I was, on Christmas day at 10 PM going through the attic and wouldn't you know?  There was just enough fabric for a cover.

Excited, I began to cut out the pieces.  Already 11-ish , assembly would have to wait. I wrapped it all up back in the bag and left it near the couch.  When I went to bed, I had another dream.  This time, the outside cover was leather.  And again,  it was the same leather scraps I had in the attic.  My favorite coat in college, had fallen into disrepair, and I had made into a purse from it a few years back.  I had kept the scraps as something the boys may use for school projects.  And wouldn't you know, there was just enough. And, as luck would have it, the buttons matched up with the pocket flap, which I was able to turn into the clasp.

So I got to work.  Sewing and cutting, pressing and swearing.

The final result looks like this....

The wrinkles have been pressed in for twenty years, so what's left here is the just the marks.  It's a very soft deer skin, almost like a suede (Not Swede, thanks Skippy!).  The inside is where I used her fabric....

I included pockets for my cards and such.  I hate having to carry around four wallets inside my purse.  There's also room and an additional pocket in the fold for a stylus.  Damn my fat fingers!  It's not perfect, but neither am I.  And the best part is, I felt like she was here telling me how to make it.  Like it was her Christmas gift to me.  The entire project came together in less than an hour.  With only one mistake.

Seriously, that never happens.

Not to me anyway.

So there you have it. 

My Christmas gift from the beyond.

Now, if I can only get it back from Tony.

He's loving the Angry Birds.

All About Tony's Gifts...

Happy Boxing Day!

This year it's especially wonderful because this "peasant" gets to sleep half the day away whilst her boys make a mess of the otherwise clean house.  I hope everyone had a great Holiday regardless of what you celebrated.  But, I know what you've all come here for today.  It's been plaguing you the entire week, right?

Come on.  Humor me.

Because as we all know, it's all about Tony.

Last year, or maybe the year before, I can't remember, I bought him a brick.

Literally. 

I bought him one brick.

But it was to be installed here...

at the Nascar Hall Of Fame.  The entry to the building and parts of the actual building were funded by donations of fans, who bought bricks, inscribed them, and had them installed into the building. We were one of the fans.  His brick read,

Not Speeding, Qualifying.

TGMG24

Now, I know you're all thinking What an awesome gift!  If he doesn't like it you could hit him upside the head with it!  But no.  I was too cheap and the lacking space to get the replica brick, so what he opened was a certificate saying that it was purchased.  Then, a few months later we received a map of where it was so we could visit.  Again, something we have never done as we are here in New England and the brick is in North Carolina.

So this year, I decided that I'd book the four of us (bonus brother would rather poke his eyes out) a little get away to visit the precious new addition to his collection.

So I did. 

We're going. 

Oh.  And I forgot to mention that while we are there, the Sprint series is running. 

He also got a ticket for the race.

On the Start/Finish line.

With a fantastic view.

The boys and I will be hanging by the hotel pool while he's at the race.  I also have family and cousins I haven't seen in 15 years living close by, so I suspect we will not be left missing out on anything. 

So there ya have it.

He also got some other things, books, DVD sets, a new Jeff Gordon watch to replace the one that broke, but I suspect spending time with his family will be one of his favorites this year.

And I also suspect in a few months, there will be plenty of posts centered around Tony posing with his brick.

Twas The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the city,
No one was out,
Because the weather was sh%#tty.

The last minute gifts,
were scoffed up and bought,
hoping to be the best present,
Any one's ever got.

The tree was lit,
With bulbs and bright colors,
And Mom's snuggled up tight,
Underneath her bed covers.

She's hiding away,
Holding the covers up tight,
Waiting for the boys
To wake her up at first light.

They will open their gifts,
Leave the place in a wreck,
She will wade through the wreckage,
-N- not break her neck.

There's and arsenal of Nerf,
And technological gadgets,
NFL paraphernalia,
and cards for making magic.

Their faces will light up,
And hugs will abound,
From behind mugs of cocoa,
Warm smiles will be found.

She will sit in her quiet,
Amongst the squeals of delight,
And marvel at the wonder,
that comes from the sight.

Because this Christmas she's found,
The best gift of all,
And while unexpected,
It does not make it less small.

Her gift is peace of mind,
knowing they are safe and secure,
that they are happy and loved,
and that they will never need more.

Their life is now a constant,
A path of their choosing,
A path of adventures,
Not just winning or losing.

Her true gift is just watching,
Them grow into young men,
Her privilege of loving them,
Forever,
Amen.

Friday Fragments...

It's Friday.  And I'm fragmented, as are most of the people on the expressway off ramp going to and from the mall.

But it's all good, because Mrs. 4444 has allowed us all to go to her place and dump all our excess junk off at her doorstep so we can go along and enjoy our holiday festivities.  Go on, visit... I'll wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We've got about 24 hours to go and I must say the workload has drastically fallen off.  I finished work today at 2pm and have tucked myself safely away in the confines of my bedroom.  I will emerge at some point to take the boys to dinner, as I have more energy to go out than to cook.  And I must go to CVS and print out pictures, since the ones ordered from Snapfish are sure to arrive on December 27th.   Besides, it's nice just being me and the boys every once and a while. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've completely lost Tony to all this political crap (note no use of the ugly side line.  Because that is what it is, C.R.A.P.)  It's so bad he confessed to listening on his Sirius radio at lunch, and it has taken over our prime time line up.  I will expect his return somewhere around January 4th.  Until then he's utterly useless to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oldest: "Mom.  I want to show you a card trick."
Me: "Ok.  But you're still in a towel from your shower.  No one wants to see a card trick when you're naked."
Oldest: "It's good, ma.  I'm gonna make it appear from my butt."


Hmm.  I don't think I'll be needing my cards back buddy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I making those pretzel and Hershey kiss treats that everyone seems to have pinned on Pinterest tonight for Sunday.  Here's hoping that they are yummy.  I had wanted to try them with Rolos but could not guarantee they were peanut free for my niece.  *sigh*  The caramel goodness will have to wait until next time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I bought 48 candy canes, the good kind that taste like bubblegum and jolly ranchers, for the boys' classrooms and totally forgot to send them in to school.  Now I'm doing everything I can to get rid of them.  If you find one in your mail box, no worries, it's from me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have managed to avoid the gingerbread house fiasco.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love doing the houses, I really do.  But the expense of all the stuff, buying and baking the Gluten Free gingerbread, and then eventually throwing away the carnage, is really too much for me this year.  And as long as Tony says nothing, I think I may be home free.

(And no honey, this is not your opportunity to mention it, hint at it, or even form the words gingerbread, that is... if you value your life.) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony: "Ok.  So you have the ball, and then they get all over you.  So you do this... and then go like this... got it?"
Youngest: "Yup."
Tony: "OK now you try."
(sounds of throwing and handing off of basketball)
Me: "Um.  What's going on out there?"
Tony: "We're working on lay ups and fake outs."
Me: "It's 6:20 in the morning, and you're in the living room.."
Tony: "Listen woman!  NBA all stars aren't born, they're made.  Now go back to bed."

And at that moment, I was too tired to argue, and no one needs to tell me twice to go back to bed.  But if something breaks, they'd better be working on their defense as well.

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is.... I'm done with Christmas shopping.  Really, really done.  Every year I think I should just run out and get one more gift to even things off and my house ends up looking like a giant toy store anyway.  So yeah, I'm done.

Truth is... Tony will most likely be out shopping on Christmas Eve, buying that one last gift.

Truth is... I finally found some time to grocery shop this week.  Which was good, because we were down to half a gallon of milk, two cheese sticks and expired yogurt.  $254 later, we are fully stocked and ready to have Christmas dinner, which I temporarily had forgotten all about.

Truth is... Today is my little brother's birthday.  It also would have been the boys' father's 40th birthday. 

Truth is... I (and by "I" I mean everyone who lives here) really need to find some time to clean the house.  It's starting to look like a dorm room.

Truth is... I never got around to painting the rest of the walls in the boys' room.  Thankfully, the wall for their TV is finished so installing their joint Christmas gift will not be an issue.  Figuring out where we will put all the other crap goodies they receive, well that's a different story.

Truth is... Youngest asked last night if we were still going to make gingerbread houses this year. Because we always make gingerbread houses. *sigh* Well, I guess we are now.

Truth is... I think all I really want for Christmas is a nap.

And The Christmas Guilt Arrives On The Doorstep...

"What's this?"
"It's a box"
"Is it a present?"
"I don't know."
"Well, what is it?"
"I don't know.  Could you just leave it alone?"
"It's for me isn't it?"
"Um. No."
"Yes.  It is."
"No.  And could ya shut up and not make a big deal out of it?"
"Why?!?!  And it's for me isn't it?"
"Um. No."

The worst part of this conversation was that it was not with the 9 year old, or the 11 year old in the house.

It was with the 45 year old.

The 45 year old who can read, to see clear as day, that this ginormous ready post box came from the ex's brother for the boys. 

And in all honesty, I wanted to return it to sender.  I mean, who knows what could be in there?

In 10 years (yes, longer than we've been divorced) the boys have never gotten Christmas gifts from this Uncle.  Never.  Yet, here was the box, dripping with guilt, and rattling with unknown sounds.

*sigh*

I opened the box to find two gifts, wrapped from their cousin.  Closer investigation revealed Star Wars Legos, and while they are a bit two years ago on the Christmas list, the boys will love them.  Enclosed was a card that I will save for a later time.

Why?

Because the card read...

Thinking of you both during this, the most difficult Christmas of your lives.  'R' (Yes, they used his proper name, not "your father", not "your Dad", his proper name) will live on in our memories.  Love 'R', 'Y', and 'B' insert last name. (Again, not "Uncle R" or your Uncle, just his name, AND they used their last name!)

Let's digest this, shall we?  The most difficult Christmas Of you lives...  Hmmmm.  I'm thinking the Christmases he chose not to spend with them could rank up as more difficult. Or how about the one when he was in jail?  Yeah.  This one will be sad, but it's not a choice.  And truthfully, he hasn't seen them for Christmas in four years.  So sad, yes.  Difficult, maybe.  Most difficult? No.

And really?  Could he not just call him their father?  And, is it necessary to sign your full names to the card?

*sigh*

Yes. 

It was wonderful that they sent gifts and thought of the boys.  They will enjoy them and will send along a thank you.  But if they even remotely think that I'm going to allow them to rip off the band aid and re-expose their wounds...

...they've got another thing coming.

Regaining A Sense Of Normal...

So have you all seen this commercial?



Go ahead. 

Watch, I'll wait.

After Saturday's events, I returned home and dragged Tony out of bed picked up Tony and we took the kids out to breakfast.  So here we are, sitting in a favorite restaurant, surrounded by a few familiar faces, when Tony starts out with the ba-baum, ba-baum, ba-baum.

Then Youngest   Aye, Aye, Aye....

But when Oldest gets to the do do do dit do do do, do do dit melody, he throws in the word "fatty". 

"Fat-tee Fat-tee fat tee, fattee, fattee"

Go ahead.  Re-watch the video... it fits in perfectly.

And I just about peed myself laughing in the middle of the Cafe.

Damn.  I love my kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sucked it up and finally bought Tony his off-the-list Christmas gift.

I figured if there was ever a year I could do it, this was it.

There are still parts of it that I'll have to figure out later, but for now, it's done.

Now, I'm just praying he loves it.

(He reads everyday, so if you're dying of suspense, email me.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never get to see my youngest nephew without a hoard of people around.  He is three and is easily distracted by people he sees more often, which is fine.  On Sunday they came down to exchange gifts with the boys as we will not see them on Christmas.

Damn.  They are cute.

He and his 20 month old year old sister toddled around chasing the cat and playing with everything in the house.  At one point I had curled up on the couch to watch a movie and I asked him to come sit and watch with me.

He crawled up on the couch, into my "pocket" (that's what I would call the spot between my butt and my curled up legs when Oldest was little) and pulled the blanket up over himself.

My heart about melted. 

My boys don't fit in my pocket anymore, and while it was short lived, it was so nice to snuggle with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oldest made a really cool jet for his grandfather for Christmas.  It was one of those wooden kits from Creatology.  He's so excited to give it to him Sunday. I'd take a photo but he's already wrapped it.

Youngest is in the throws of designing his pinewood derby car for cub scouts. 

I'm surprised he hasn't downloaded aerodynamic plans to reduce wind resistance and drag.


Yup.  Things are definitely getting back to normal.

December 17, 2011

610 am.

The sounds of closing dresser drawers and closets fill the once quietness of the house.  Feet pound their way up the stairs into the darkness of the house, lights clicked on along the way, chairs are pulled out as they sit down to tie their shoes.

It is time.

I run out to warm up the car, December 17th, it's only 33 degrees, the first snow is expected tonight. Everyone knows their part, and they are ready.  The car is busy with anticipation, grief, and energy that only boys can produce at 6 am.  The radio clips from commercial to their next pre scheduled song...

"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean

Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens

Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance." -L Womack

We make the drive to his old house.  There's a salt water inlet that runs under the street and straight into the ocean.  Surrounded by large rocks up by the street, it tapers, cutting it's way through the rocky beach sand until it finally reaches the beached waves.  During low tide, the "river" disconnects creating tide pools. These are the same tide pools the boys played in for two years religiously on weekends with their Dad.  They collected countless creatures forever captured in old drywall buckets, only to be freed and caught again during their next visits.  This is the spot they have chosen.

We walk quickly, hoping not to disturb the new residents of the homes along the beach.  We are alone, with exception of a long off owner and her confused dog.  Somehow, I think knowing that this is not entirely within the rules of the county, makes this more appropriate, as if somehow it was something their father would have done. And, it is, after all, exactly what he wanted done.

We reach the point where the large rocks turn to smaller ones, and then then just sand.  High tide was just two hours earlier, the river is still connected, and the current within the stream is so strong it is rolling baseball sized rocks far into the surf. 

They say their goodbyes, quietly, to themselves.  I have no idea what they said, or how they have made their peace, and it is not mine to know. When they were ready, they slowly poured them in.  The wind whipping from the west, the finer dust flew in line with the ashes. Oldest looks at me, "Look.  It's so beautiful."

And it was.  The ashes swirled, white and creamy into the water, forced by the current, they looked as though they were running to the waves.  The boys ran along side him right to the surf until he was gone.  Surrounded by the sounds of waves crashing, the beach glowing with the oranges and pink of the new day, they searched for shells and sea glass, another of their favorite things to do with him.  They jumped on the edge of the sand and made "avalanches" until Youngest fell in.  Even soaked to his knees, he was not deterred. 

They took as much time as they needed, made peace with the moment, and walked back to the car stopping only for a few handfuls of fine sand.  There was no crying.  No overwhelming sadness.  Only peace.  They had let him go, freeing his body to join with his spirit.  He was free now to go anywhere he wanted, explore the world, and be at everyone of their basketball games.  He would never again be able to miss an visit, never disappoint them, and never leave them again.  He could always be with them now, no matter how far away they choose to go in life. 

There are moments in life, both sad and happy, when I wish I had a magical camera.  One that could take my memories and print them out on paper.  I watched them play on the sand, laughing, exploring, and throwing rocks wishing I hadn't left everything in the car on purpose. Absorbing the beauty of that moment,  I reached my hands into my pockets, frozen from helping Youngest's ashes along in the water, and felt my phone.  The phone I was positive I had left in the car. 

It was most likely a moment that will stay with them forever.  But on the off chance they ever want that magical camera, I will have it for them.

Just Checking In...

For those of you worried about us, I thought I'd check in and let you all know how things went tonight. And after tomorrow, I'll be back to my regularly scheduled every other day-or-so posts.

Youngest went to school today as it was "game day" and he didn't want to miss out on the festivities.  Oldest didn't want to go as he was starting to feel sad, and I suspect a bit depressed, after staying up late finishing his memorial frame for his Dad's service. Then he found out I had errands to do, and of course he wanted to go to school, but only for a little while. 

I made the rounds, mailing requests for the autopsy reports, applying for social security, finally losing it in the craft store parking lot, and tearing my house apart for the last of the forms I needed for the Social Security office.  After about 2 hours of destroying the office looking for my original marriage certificate from the first marriage, it occurred to me the court house may not have given it back.  After a quick phone call, it was determined they indeed had it, however I now have to petition the court to get it back. 

On Tuesday. 

At the court house an hour away.

Lovely.

In reality, provided I can get there to do it, it will not delay the processing and the boys should be acquiring checks by mid January.

Around 1130, I picked Oldest up at school and dropped lunch off for Youngest.... a McDonald's number three, complete with fries, apple juice, and fork for proper bun removal.  ALL the kids were so jealous.  Oldest and I finished up the memorial frames, and scouted prospective locations for their goodbyes.  The sister called, I stood my ground regarding the boys scattering being private, and regarding the conduct at the service. She was pleasant and understood.

Around four the woman from the funeral home dropped off his ashes, gift wrapped even, two velvet pouches in a silver bag.  The boys and I discussed scattering them before the service, but I hesitated and thought we should do it tomorrow instead.  An hour later, the woman calls me back...

Me: "Hello?"
Her : "Hey, I have a horrible thing to tell you...."
Me: "Oh.  Did the hearts get switched or something?"
Her: "No. I gave you the wrong ashes."
Me: "Well what's the difference between their half of the ashes and the boys?"
Her: "Absolutely nothing.  But I gave you the WRONG ashes."
*ensue my fit of laughter here*
Me: "Well.  I am so glad I didn't spread these with the boys an hour ago."
Her: "I'm so glad you're laughing, becasue I'm about to throw up."

So, I arrive with "the package" at the funeral home and she drops the correct ashes at the house with Tony.  She knocks on the door, having no clue who she is, he quickly pieces it together when he sees the bag. 

The service was uneventful, which was ideal for the boys.  Oldest broke down during the video (which did include all three songs) and his cousin was there for him.  Youngest sat in the corner, hood up, zoning it all out.  They lasted almost to the end, at which time Oldest declared he was "too sad and bored".

Ten of us found ourselves at dinner, laughing at the table, lightening the mood.  (Of course, the incredible cherry flavored drink I selected helped out quite a bit.)  After dinner, the boys played the claw machine.  You know the claw one right?  You put $1 in and get nothing out, ever?  Yeah. 

They both won.

On their first try.

Both of them.

We hung their frames.

We talked about tomorrow.

And they took their newly won prizes to bed.

And There's More...

Seems the sister thought that my signing to release the body meant that I was releasing myself from everything.

Everything.

Like access to the toxicology reports.

Like the death certificate.

Like applying for Social Security for the kids.

Like all financial access to what they deserve.

I was married to the family for almost 10 years.  Do they think I've learned nothing?

His mother won't so much as pick up the phone to call me.  She kept saying to the funereal director that there were people who wanted to see the boys.  Her response was, "This is not a family reunion.  If they want to see the kids, it should have happened years ago."

The boys and I were up late last night scrap booking a page for framing to remember their dad.  We will bring it to the service, and when we get home, hang it on the walls of their rooms.  Oddly enough, for them it was both therapeutic and definitive if that makes any sense.  The funeral home is making sure they have a place to display them both so they can share what all the pictures and mementos mean.

Have I said how much I like this lady?

She will be dropping by their portion of the cremains, today.  They are not allowed to pick up theirs until tomorrow to avoid any insanity.  This means that the boys can get rid of their part privately, which is exactly how they want to do it.

And don't worry, the funeral director is also ensuring that we get extremely clean cremains (No screws ad bolts, evidently from the box they use) and the best parts of him.  Parts like his bald head, his hugging arms, and his big smile. 

The family can have his butt and smelly feet.

The boys think that is hysterical.

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is... It gets better.  The obituary posted in the paper yesterday.  "He is survived by his cherished sons, Oldest and Younougest."  Yip.  Their aunt spelt Youngest's name wrong in the obituary.  Come on.  It's five letters and a frickin' biblical name. Really?  Guess we're not saving that either.

Truth is...  I was mumbling at the kitchen table about how I just needed to focus and get us all through the next three days. 

Oldest: "Why the next three days?"
Me: "Well, you're aunt's kind of driving me crazy."
Oldest: "Ma....She drives everyone crazy."

Oh how right you are my son.  How right you are.

Truth is... I made the final decision on the ashes.  I will have the home divide them in two.  The boys and I will take half and his parents can take half.  We will put our half into the ocean here, and the understanding will be that they will put theirs in the Florida waters.  Anything beyond that is not on me.  Oldest has also decided to keep his "box" but throw his ashes.  Youngest wants to build a paper mache boat, strap a rocket engine to it and drive it off into the sunset holding his box. (He is so totally my son.)

Truth is...  I've not been sleeping much lately.  The kids are sleeping just fine, but not me because I continue to have nightmares that he'll come back to haunt me.  I'm going with three melatonin tonight, hopefully that will do the trick. 

Truth is... I took a short shift tomorrow, and two days off for the extravaganza services.  I'm going to use this time to pull my hair out dealing with the insanity  file with social security for the boys, and maybe let the kids take a half day.

And take a nap.

Because I'm really tired.

And now it's your turn!  Write your Truth's and link up.

Wednesday Rant With Some Of Stef's Ugly Sidelines......

OK.  I realize that I should be super sensitive to the situation here, but my kids don't read this, and I'm not going to say anything that they don't already know.

To recap, my ex husband died.  Turns out, that I am next of kin since I am the boys guardian. (I'm still maintaining that he's still married to his second wife but no one's listening to me, whatever. ) So this means I have to sign some papers, etc.  Fine.  I can do that. 

His sister has been obsessing handling most of the details.  His brother wanted to be involved, but he's a putz they can't agree on anything.  He started calling my house at random completely inappropriate times and I not so nicely told him to F-off that we had everything that we needed here and the kids and I were fine.  Both of them did agree, however, that they wanted my input so it would be as easy for the kids as possible.

Anyway, in trying to find a funeral home, there were many choices tossed around. I insisted asked to not use the home 1 mile from our house so the boys would not have to pass it 17 times a day every day .  I offered two other homes instead.  Guess which one they are going with?

Then, there was the choosing of the urns. Why the f do you need more than one urn anyway?  She chose two small heart shaped ones for the boys, another two for her parents, and was supposed to choose one large one to rent for the memorial.  Instead, she decided that she was going to buy several little ones and give cousins, aunts and family friends ashes in small urns.  Like party favors.  Needless to say, the funeral home called me horrified, and said legally it was my call.  I said that if she wanted to totally throw her money away on the small ones for the boys, and the ones for her parents, that was fine, but the rest were to go in a large urn, to be taken after the service. 

Here's the thing.  My ex wanted to be cremated, and his ashes be put into the ocean.  ALL of his ashes.  He didn't want to go and be missing his right arm or big toe because Uncle Joe wanted something sitting on the mantle.  We discussed this.  Multiple times.

My kids also feel this way.  They love the idea of putting him in the ocean and having their grandparents put some in the ocean in Florida.  Oldest wants to keep a small amount of the ashes until he's ready to let go.  I'm OK with that, it's on his time, but ultimately he will go into the ocean.  But dammit, I knew that somehow that bastard would figure out a way to live in this house.Youngest is furious that anyone would want to do anything different.

And yet, their Aunt still thinks this is no big deal.

In the end, the boys and I will be disposing of our portion in our own special extremely personal way.  If they chose to disregard his wishes AND his children's wishes, so be it.  But you better believe, I'm putting it on them and making them feel like shit about it.

Then she wanted to make a video of pictures to play at the service.  I supplied photos for this as they have no recent photos of the boys becasue they don't really give too craps about them until something happens.  When she asked what music should be chosen for it, I knew that the boys had a "soundtrack" of Dad songs, so I checked with them.  Turns out, she had already chosen two of the 3 songs.  Let me just say here that the boys song choice was either "Kryptonite" or "Love ME When I'm Gone" by 3 Doors Down.  Their Dad was a hard core rocker and borderline metal head,  the louder the better.

She chose "Amazing Grace" and "Would You Know My Name, If You Saw Me In Heaven?"

I'll pause here while you regain your composure.

She also wanted to set up a memorial account in lieu of flowers.  She told me this at 8pm last night, and it had to be done before noon today so it could make the obituary.  Because I don't have to work or anything. She was going to set this account up for the boys,  but in doing so, she would need all their personal info and she would be have to be the executor. No way in F-ing hell.  Um,  no. I'll take care of that, Thanks. So I took an extra hour out of my day, and called everyone necessary to get it all done.

Then she decided to let me know she had booked a restaurant for after the memorial.  It's a Chinese Food place that their family uses for everything.  And I mean EVERYTHING.  I even had to have my  wedding rehearsal dinner there.  I informed her that we would not be going.  Shocked, she asked why.  Um, Hello?  We can't eat Chinese.  Their food is not Gluten Free and Oldest doesn't like it.  She freaking chose and booked a restaurant that his CHILDREN can't eat at.

*sigh*

I am quickly remembering why I left this entire world behind. 

If you need me, the boys and I will be making paper mache rocks we can fill with whatever ashes are left over ashes and throw into the tide, like they did when they were little. After of course, we go to the memorial extravaganza and eat a nice meal at a restaurant of my son's choosing. 

Randomly Speaking...

Tony: "I was on the computer looking at cruises we could take with the kids."
Me: "OK."
Tony: "We could go to the Bahamas in February for cheap money."
Me: "And where would this money come from?"
Tony: "Money? Pla-eeze.  Those cruise people would take one look at you and say, DAMN! You're so fine lady, we're giving you half off."
Me: "Really..." (insert eye roll)
Youngest: "Yeah, Tony, then they'd take one look at you and charge us double."

Gotta love his brutal honesty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, let's see. 

It's Tuesday. 

And Tuesdays are random.

I know this because this....


keeps appearing on my blog roll.

If you visit Stacy you can also see that I am in good company with my incoherent nonsense.

Moving on...

Bound and determined to not let the current events overshadow Christmas, I FINALLY got around to syncing Oldest's new Ipod (his gift from my parents) with the existing library we had in the computer. It took all of, oh, 3 hours.  Not because he had a lot of music to download, but because nothing technological seems to come with actual instructions any more.

Really.

For $200, I'd like a manual.  Is that too much to ask?

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I have custom ring tones for different people in my phone.  That way, I don't go running for it if I don't have to.  My sister is "Life Is a Highway" becasue we always seem to be in the car, my Mom is "Say Hey! I Love You", Tony is "Honey Can You Squeeze Me In?".  Currently the vast majority of people fall into the "Let It Go" ring tone.

I'm thinking of changing it to Ozzy's "Crazy Train"

Seems somehow fitting, lately, No?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a certain insanity that goes along with my ex-husband's family. 

You add an extreme amount of stress and grief into the mix and, let's just say, it's not good.  While I appreciate the plans that his sister has made, I am finding that I may need to step in to ensure that the boys desire to be part of the events, do not get over shadowed by the elaborate video programs and re-writing of obituaries.

Momma may need to get her mean face on.

*sigh*

Friday can't come soon enough.

**On that note, thanks you for the many comments and the private emails I have received. Skippy, I really appreciate your advice, and Lola, your sensitivity is greatly appreciated.  I truly am doing fine aside from the ex-in-laws making me a bit crazy.


Thing is, as bad as it sounds, he wasn't a part of their everyday.  They saw him for 3 hours a month. That's only 36 hours a YEAR.  IF he didn't miss a visit.  He was their father, but their lives even at this young age have so much more to them, that they are really OK.  When the memorial service is held I'm sure it will hit home. Until then, we're just hour by hour. But really, we're doing just fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We received the check from the insurance company for the water damage in the sun room.  I was discussing this with my Dad tonight and he asked if I wanted to have his drywall guy to just come in and do the drywall. 

Gee.  Let me see.

Inhaling drywall dust for 6 weeks until we get it just right, cleaning every surface in the kitchen to make it plaster free before doing ANYTHING, swearing and balancing dry wall on my head to do the ceiling,

OR....

having Matt come in and do it all in two days.

Worth. Every. Penny. 

After Christmas, of course.  I need to be totally focused so it comes out just the way I want it.

Because it may be our house, but decorating/design it is all about me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm still on the fence on what to serve at our Christmas day soiree.  They'll be about 20 people here in my tiny house of three chairs. 

Maybe I should just take the insurance money and get a new set of kitchen chairs.

Now that's a thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've lost all track of time lately.  I'm counting down the days til the Christmas crazy is over, yet I keep thinking it's further off than what it is.  Bonus Brother is coming to stay for a week and I need to find his bed under the giant hoard pile of sports paraphernalia in the office. Tony brought in another nine boxes of trading cards from his Mother's house. 

I think it's time to look into shelving for the other side of the basement.

Not In The Plan...

I had all kinds of funny posts today.

Things the kids said.

Things Tony said.

And once again it was all trumped by the ex husband.

The ex husband who felt last night, two weeks before Christmas, seven days before his next visit with Oldest, and 12 days from an extra visit scheduled for the boys to see him for his fortieth birthday, was the perfect night to mix a large amount of pills with an unknown liquid and swallow them down.  He is after all, invincible, right?

Wrong.

I am left here tonight, trying to figure out how to tell the kids.

And as it seems, the man who finished nothing on his own, actually did get divorced from his second wife, therefore leaving me (as the boy's guardian) the next of kin.

Seems it's my job to release the body to the family.

It's gonna be another great week.

Truth Is Thursday...

Truth is... I'm having a tough week.  I feel like I really suck at my job.  And even worse, that I suck as a mother.  I have had to make some tough decisions this year regarding Youngest, ones that I was not entirely comfortable with. Tonight it became apparent that I need to make some different choices, which I will do immediately, but am still not entirely sure if this change is the right choice either. I know, vague. I'll work it all out, it just sucks right now.

Truth is...  I'm counting down the days until the holidays are over.

Truth is... no one was maimed by the paper cross bow.  Turns out, Oldest couldn't get the yarn untangled so he just surrendered his tooth.

Truth is... There's mysterious water in the basement, and none of us seem to know where it's coming from.

Truth is... I really want the electric indoor turkey fryer for Christmas.  Totally frivolous I know, but come on? It can cook a 14 pound turkey in 56 minutes!

Truth is...  I'm so thankful the snow hasn't started here yet.

Truth is... I'm trying a new linky thing.  At some point I will get that button fixed too. Promise.

Truth is... I hurt all over from running packages up and down driveways all day long.  I don't remember it being this bad, well, ever.

Truth is... My foot is much better.  Thanks to all of you who checked up on me.

Truth is... all I want to do is crawl into bed and snuggle my kids tonight.

Truth is... It's been a tough week.

Getting My Random On...

It's Tuesday, and rumor has it that if you go here... Stacy's hosting Random Tuesday thoughts.


Go on, check her out.  I'll wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lately I have posted about making more than one meal for dinner or breakfast.  Just to be clear here, this is not the norm for me.  I am not a short order cook, if you don't like what's for dinner, the other option is cereal. But occasionally, I will make different things as Youngest and I eat Gluten free and sometimes it's just easier to make two different meals.  So, tonight I was making dinner, helping with homework, and talking to Tony on the phone when I realized that the oil I was heating in the pan was ready.  As I moved the pan off the heat, the oil skipped over the surface and landed on my super absorbent socks.

My foot blistered almost immediately.

Upon inspecting my wounded foot, Tony replied "You better put some Neosporin on that."

Upon further inspection, I'm thinking "How can I make this a long term injury that will render me unable to work until January?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I requested Annual leave tomorrow from work.  I was approved but was asked if I could come in and work until one.  Which I will.  Now, being the proactive person I am, I switched some shifts and talked to my boss about finding someone to cover what I can't.  When I discussed this with the other senior sub he got all snippy and replied "Good luck finding someone to do that for you."

Um, hello?  Not my problem.  I'm working so other people don't have to.  And again, it's not my problem.  Don't know what I did to get his knickers in a knot, but I'll reiterate,

Not. My. Problem.

Ah, holiday cheer.  Can't you just feel it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My cat is scared of his cat door, so I leave it open for him.  Let's not get into how he'll bang his head into the locked bedroom door until it finally gives into his body slams and it opens.  The other day it fell closed and he couldn't get to his litter box.  He proceeded to jump on the bed, dig his front paws into me while I slept, and then run all over the house, crying like a lunatic.  After an hour, Tony finally got up to find the cat had pooped in the tub.

It's a good thing the kids are attached, or he'd find himself out on the curb.

As a bonus, it provided fodder to Youngest's school blog.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really need a nap.

And a vacation.

The insurance check for the damage to the sun room is going to be about $700 more than we expected.  We can do the work ourselves for less than half of the full quote.

Can you say road trip?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oldest is in the final stages of losing all his baby teeth.  Today he lost another molar, and if my count is right he only has one more left to lose.

He's down stairs right now rigging a booby trap for the Tooth Fairy.

It involves bait (the tooth), a lot of yarn, and a paper cross bow.

Good thing the tooth fairy knows how to duck and weave.

He's Cracked The Code...

On Saturday, after dropping off Oldest's friend from the prior night's sleepover, I arrived bright and early on time at work only to discover that we were over staffed.  On a Saturday.  My boss actually told me to run for the door as fast as I could, and for a change, I didn't argue with him.

In the hopes of seeing a college that had peeked Bonus Brother's interest, I arrived home, only to realize BB was still in his teenage comatose sate, and faced the reality that by the time we got there, the open house would be well under way.  *sigh*

Excited at this new found family time, Tony insisted we go Christmas shopping, again.  So off we went, Youngest in tow, leaving the other two home fighting assassins and creatures of the Zelda world.  Store after store with a little break for lunch, we arrived home with half the day gone.  I wrapped and wrapped, whilst the rest watched movies and battled miniature demons in the DS world.  I did some scrap booking of the wedding pictures, and Tony handled dinner for everyone but me, which suited me just fine.

On Sunday, I cooked three different breakfasts.  I cleaned.  I did laundry.  I showered only when Youngest decided to have a friend over.  They had a class project to do, so when that was done.... I cleaned again. And again.  And again, some more.  Seems that green floral foam can get everywhere.  By 6pm, I was toast.

"I think I need to escape for a few hours"
"Where ya going?"
"Michaels"
"Are they even open?"
"No, that's my new boyfriend."

*crickets*

"Have a good time."

And that is why I married him. 

Because even when he too has had enough of kids and all things domestic, he still encourages me to see other men. 

Especially when they are having a four hour 20% off sale, with another 40% off coupon.  

Truth is...

I am a complete failure at my own blog carnival.

Truth is... between tending to my recent injuries due to my iron man training, and all that is children, I forgot all about Thursday. *hangs head in shame*

Truth is... every year the office takes on 3-8 foster families to play Santa for.  Normally I collect all the money for those who don't want to shop, and pull my hair out until the very last second  buy and wrap the gifts for the kids.  This year I decided I have enough on my plate to only tackle one gift for one child.  He is 5 months old and the only thing on the list were food and diapers.  So I made this...

It's a snowsuit, filled with jars of baby food, cereal, juice, etc. sitting on an inflatable infant sled.  The picture really does it no justice, as it was one of the cutest things ever. I know because all of the people at work fed my ego told me so.

Truth is.... I was sitting at the kitchen table with oldest holding my head from the migraine that was taking over when my son looked at me and said...

"Mom?  Are you OK?"
"Yeah buddy, just a head ache"
"Did I give it to you?"

 Truth is...

I'm getting the feeling there are far too many boys in this house.  New rule:  If they don't fit in the sneaker basket, they don't stay overnight.

Truth is...

Youngest has become semi obsessed in making coin towers. It's all about design and pattern, or so he tells me.

Truth is... I found Bonus brother a driver's ed school that runs over Christmas break.  He'll stay with us and I'll bring him to and from around my work schedule.  And since his other parents can't make the extra class, I'll be taking the parent class.  He's also talking college.  I can't figure out weather I am beyond excited of the prospects of touring schools and campuses, or having a seizure over the cost.  Maybe a little of both.

Truth is...

I have a new ornament for our tree.  Handmade for me by one of my favorite men. :)

Truth is... I already have a tree set up.  I entered a contest for a live tree and figured it would be nice for my sister if I won.  And don't you know, I won.... two days after my sister bought her tree.  But, never fear! My really good friend, submerged in her chaotic life of six kids and having her seventh child this week, had not even thought of a tree yet, and was thrilled when I offered it to her.

It gave me the warm and fuzzies to know that I could do this for her family. 

And isn't that that one of the real joys of the season?