Look at the goodies I found in Harrison's backpack tonight! I guess he got to dress up for their Thanksgiving feast at school today. Main dishes: marshmallows and pumpkin shaped Jello. That's all he can remember. 

Christmas berries


(I just had to get the penis post down!) 

Getting down to basics

Harrison to Chris: Boys have short hair and penis'. Girls have long hair and no penis'. 

More bad news

I’m lying on my couch, for the second day in a row, suffering from the stomach flu. I think the emotional strain of my stay with my parents has taken its toll.

I’ve had an especially hard time this week after hearing the results of my mother’s CAT scan. They found a tumor that is blocking a tube leading from her liver…I don’t know much, but what I have extracted from my mom is that it is blocking the bile process. It’s a pretty big deal. Her doctor gave her two choices: 1) go see a “gastro” doctor - get a stint that will open the blockage and then continue with chemo or 2) let nature take its course (she would only probably live for about six weeks.) Again, I was completely taken aback. Shocked is an understatement. I still find it hard to believe that she is so sick. She said she needed to sleep on the information before she decided. She told me that she did not have any strong feelings one way or another.

I spoke with her on Tuesday and she decided to call the gastro guy because “…I might not make it till Christmas if I don’t.” Fortunately on Tuesday night she found the strength to call Sid – her mentor in positive thinking/imagery/healing methods – and after their conversation she says she feels better. She’s willing to fight, or as she put it, “…I’m not ready to give up.”

I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. I prepare for the worst and then things get better. I’m not in denial, though. I know that a tumor on her liver is extremely dire, but I’m just glad that she has hope. The last thing I want for her is fear or depression.

I'm home...finally.

It was so hard to leave, yet so hard to stay another day.

Mom told me that she would be fine and that I wasn't to worry.

I had a hard time sleeping last night. I kept seeing their faces every time I closed my eyes.

The kids surprised me by meeting me at baggage claim. It was so wonderful. Two little ones clinging around my knees. My husband's kisses seemed much sweeter.

We spent the day together doing lots of nothing. Fantastic, yet awful. I'm not sure how to feel happiness when so much sadness is back in Minnesota. 

Just when I let my guard down

Took Mom to her oncologist's office this afternoon for an appointment to review her blood work from last week and then get treatment afterwards. They decided to skip her chemo last week due to not having some important results. Since my mom has been so fatigued, they decided to give her body an extra week of rest.

I tried to talk to her on the way to the doctor, but she would not talk. I am pretty good at talking about difficult subjects, but this was different. She wasn't budging and actually got irritated with me for probing. As we waited for the N.P. to come into her exam room, her irritation got stronger. She was really upset to be waiting. I tried to keep up the banter, but she wanted none of it.

Then the news came and it was not good. Her blood work showed some liver distress or malfunction. It also showed problems with her kidney and her cancer tumor marker went up - not significantly, though. It was definitely a strike out.

Cat scan tomorrow. Results on Monday. It could be her chemo or it could be the cancer. Neither answer is better than the other.

I made pot roast tonight. I even made gravy. She seemed to like it. I held her hand after dinner for a little while and she let me.

The rain cloud that just won't leave

It’s hard to write about things going on here as they are tragic and boring all at the same time.

If I stop thinking, I actually get bored – or content – with the day-to-day routine my parents and I have established. My dad has made strides, but is still a bit shaky and fatigued. I really hope that he is much better by Saturday. Mom is the same. She skipped chemo last week and it hasn’t made much of a difference in her energy level. We will find out today if the chemo is working. If it isn’t, we don’t think there is any more chemo for her at this time.

My brother and his three kids are coming for dinner and another family meeting. I am tempted to have a serious heart to heart with Mom before that. No one has talked with her about her deep thoughts. Dad doesn’t want to upset her and I hadn’t considered that things were really that bad until now.

I was watching something the other day that had to do with cancer or illness. I was overwhelmed with sadness. I mean the wave hit me and I just started crying. Out of the blue. The dark cloud over my parents’ house is HUGE. It just emanates through every conversation, meal and routine. Everything in the house is the same, but everything is SO different.

I get to leave. I will call daily and continue to try and support my parents in every way I can, but I will be far away. My dad has to stay. He never gets a break. I feel really bad for him.

Day Nine

My dad and my nephew on Dad's first night home from the hospital.


I think I’ve hit the wall. I didn’t make her walk to the kitchen table for breakfast. I didn’t feel up to the fight. I also didn’t “make” her take her potassium pill last night. Again – I didn’t feel up to the fight. I have to cut her pills up so she can swallow them. She has a lot of trouble swallowing. Can you imagine gagging on eight tiny pieces of bitter pill after you’ve already struggled to get your meal down? Dad and I have been conspiring about how to crush them up and put them in her meals. She won’t consider it – says she can taste the graininess. We’re thinking we will have to be very sneaky about it.

Took Dad for a blood test yesterday and had to come clean. I broke the rear view mirror off the Olds Saturday night. I was so nervous about telling them that I waited till yesterday morning. I figured that if I told them right when they could call the dealership and insurance, it wouldn’t be so painful. (Yes, I am still afraid of them yelling at me at age 41.) They were amazingly understanding. I think the surgery has been a great thing for my dad. I don’t like that he had to go through such a dramatic procedure, but he seems much more cognizant of the bigger picture AND my mother’s situation. He now knows how it feels not to be hungry. He knows how it feels to have people poking you in every available vein all the time. He’s more interested in healthy eating and getting exercise. He wants to maintain his quality of life. He never wants to be bedridden.


I’ve started knitting. When I was in grade school, I asked my Oma (German for Grandma) to teach me to knit. I tried and tried, but never caught on. I had her show me in junior high and high school. Nothing. I just couldn’t get it. Since then, I’ve asked my mom a few times and even my mother-in-law. When Harrison was born, I had a Martha Stewart Baby Magazine that had a beautiful “easy-to-make” knit blanket. I bought needles and yarn, pulled out the instructions and began. I managed to cast on one row and that’s about it. I carried the yarn all the way to Utah and it’s been sitting in my basement for over a year. For some reason, I threw three skeins of yarn into my suitcase and the needles – one still had that row of yarn cast onto it. I showed it to my mom and she taught me AGAIN how to knit. For some reason it really clicked this time. I understand how to do it and I want to do it. I thought I would ditch the baby blanket idea (for obvious reasons) and make a scarf. Mom told me that it would be a very wide scarf, though, so now it is going to be a baby doll blanket for Ella. My question, though, is how to do old ladies do it? Knitting really makes my knuckles sore. I must be doing it wrong.



I think we have found some pajamas for my mom. Land’s End. They have petite sizes. She is very picky. They have to be long sleeved, but cannot be too long. They have to be long pants, but not too long. She wants a crew neck, but it can’t be too wide. The package is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. I hope they work. This may be the last straw for me. If I have one more pair of pajamas shot down by her specificities, I think I may explode. That would not be good. My mom has to control things she can control - the size of her dinner plate, the temperature of her water, the sleeve length of her pajamas. I just need to take more deep breaths.
This trip has taught me a lot. I have a better understanding of my mother’s situation. I truly think she is dying. She doesn’t think so, but I need to be prepared. My dad and I have talked about the future more than we’ve ever done before. I have been forced to think about all of these difficult things that I’ve never wanted to think about. Most of all, I appreciate what I have. I miss my “other” family very much. The kids are fine, but I’m not. I need them in my life. I need Chris.

Each day is a little better

I’m pretty emotionally drained which tires me out, and takes any incentive to write or exercise or do anything, right out of me. Things are relatively better, though. My father is home. He checked out of the hospital before dinner on Thursday night. His adjustment to home has been good. He can get around amazingly well, but was really irritable for about 24 hours. Taking care of two of them is very similar to taking care of my two children. My mom even yells for me from her bed for her morning glass of juice. (Just like Harrison or Ella yell for their first glass of milk.) Yesterday morning my mother had to tell me that she had an accident. In bed. (Just like my Ella who isn’t quite potty trained in her sleep.) I didn’t even flinch. I just got her out of bed and stripped the sheets. I put down a towel, covered her back up and started the laundry.

And so the days go by. Breakfast, Dad’s walks, errands for them (still searching for a pajama set that is small enough for my mom’s increasingly smaller frame), lunch (my mom’s biggest meal), laundry, organizing closets, and dinner. It’s hard to keep track of all the medications and appointments, but my dad will set up a spread sheet in no time, I’m sure. To say he’s analytical and thorough are understatements.

My brother showed up last night for a family meeting. After meeting with the oncologist, and talking seriously with my dad, we have to start planning for all scenarios. After about an hour and a half, we realized that there are no easy answers. They want to go to Florida, but we worry that Mom is too weak to fly. She promised to start eating more to gain strength and to stop sabotaging her recovery (she doesn’t do her physical therapy or take all of her meds consistently.)

I have this increasing awareness that my presence makes a difference. My mother responds to me better than my father or brother. I’m very torn. I feel I should be here for her all the time, but can’t just leave my family. I want her to come and live with me, but we don’t have the room. I called Chris last night and told him we need to add on to the house. That went over well.

We need to take this one day at a time. My dad will become stronger every day. They have asked me to stay another week. I will be away from my husband and children about 14 days, but I know that my absence is necessary. Harry and Ella are being cared for. Chris has been amazing. He never complains and continually tells me how great everything is going.

My heartburn is still there, but my overwhelming anxiety seems to be lessening…or it could be that I’m just getting used to it.

I think I need to buy some Tums

Thank you for all the supportive comments. I truly appreciate all the thoughts and prayers you have sent my way. Please continue to sent good thoughts, but direct them to my parents - they are the ones who really need all the help they can get.




Weirdest thing - I’ve had this pain in my chest for about two days. At first it was intermittent, but now it’s constant. It’s on the right side. For a moment I thought I was having sympathy pains for my dad, but I decided that was a bit melodramatic and realized that this is what heartburn must feel like. I’ve also been really tired. REALLY tired. Since I’ve arrived in Minnesota, I’ve been sleeping at least 8 hours, but I’m still exhausted.

About two and a half weeks ago, I had a terrible workout at my spinning class. I was breathing hard, sweating buckets and buckets and I got that pain in my chest. It scared me until the physician to my right reminded me that my heart is on my left side. (Thank God she went to medical school.) I left class after an hour feeling embarrassed that I couldn’t keep up. I shook it off to too much exercise that week and cut back last week.

Now I’m getting a little concerned. I know it’s stress. My body is finally starting to revolt to all of the stuff going on in my life. I’m not sure what I can do to alleviate any of this.

Dad and I have been talking a lot. Mainly about Mom. About her future – their future. She is obviously not doing well, but she truly believes that she will get better. Dad doesn’t agree. We actually had THE talk. The one about what will happen when she’s gone. It was awful. This is so hard on him in so many ways. She is not that easy to deal with right now. She is very demanding and not extremely appreciative. She is very angry with my dad and he’s not sure why. I’ve been doing marriage counseling since I got here. I talk to her, and then I go talk to him. Back and forth, back and forth.

Tomorrow she has an appointment with her oncologist and a chemo treatment. I plan to tell her doctor that she’s depressed. Also tomorrow, my dad comes home and will need some extra help at first. He can’t lift or drive for a month. We really have no back up plan for getting them help, if needed, after I leave. Every time I try to talk to them about this, the subject is changed or put off until later.

I think I know where the heartburn is coming from. This is one of those moments in life when you realize that no one is going to help you - that you are the only one. You are the one who has to fix the problem. I have to pull my head out of the sand and learn about all of this “senior citizen” stuff. Things like health proxies, Medicare, assisted living centers, protecting assets and whatever else I need to know.

I’m worried that I am not too good at any of that, though. I’m better with helping buy her some new pajamas and finding low sodium foods for him. The heartburn is telling me that I need to do all of that AND figure out who they can call, after I leave, if my mom falls again.

I need more time here. How can I do everything I need to do before next Tuesday? How can I stay away from my family any longer than that, though?

Mom and Dad

She likes apple juice on her night stand first thing in the morning. Six ice cubes in her water. Tea is required at each meal. Lunch is her bigger meal – her appetite wanes as the day goes on. She doesn’t like chicken or cookies anymore and wonders why I can’t remember that. Her wastebasket goes between her purse and slippers right beside her bed.

I can hear her snoring as she sleeps. I can hear her breathing when she’s awake. It’s labored and loud. She is bald and rarely wears her wig anymore. Her head hangs down when she is sitting upright to eat. She’s too tired to hold it up. She wears a nightgown and robe all the time, but wants a long sleeved night shirt and pants instead. She doesn’t like how her gown gets all bunched up. I will shop for those tomorrow.

He is naked in a hospital bed with only a backless gown. Tubes drain his wound, a pacemaker keeps his heart regulated and a pillow lies vertically over his chest and pelvis. His mood is pragmatic and calm. He is uncomfortable, but amazed that he feels as good as he does. He’ll probably be in for a few more days.

Each fingertip is black and blue from all the glucose testing. Insulin is needed for awhile as his body recovers from the shock of surgery. He has swollen calves and ankles supported with white hose. I have only seen the top inch of his incision. It’s thick, red and ominous. His biggest concern is for his wife. “Go home, Carol. You know she falls.”

In two or so days, I will have to care for both of them in their home. It scares me to death.

saturday

Update:

It's still dark outside when it really should be light, and I have a splitting headache from all the noise at Harrison's school carnival last night, but I'm still happy! Why? Because my dad made it through his surgery and the closing went through without any glitches.

The only thing I'm upset about? I never got my cocktail.

Cocktail hour cannot come soon enough Friday night

I ‘m feeling content and cozy tonight. I’m happy to be where I am at this moment. Literally and figuratively.

I love my house. It is small, but suits our needs right now. Ok – I lied. One SMALL bathroom is not enough for four (plus an occasional visit from a large, clumsy 12 year old step son), but we manage. Built in ’27, it has just enough character to satisfy my need for an old house, but it’s not so old that it’s falling apart and in need of constant care. In the evening, we rarely use the overhead can lights and turn on lamps. After dinner, instead of cleaning up, we just turn off the big lights and flip on our under cabinet lights. If you can’t see the dirty dishes – it makes it hard to clean them up. It’s our theory and we’re stickin’ to it.

Anyway, the ambience at night is really nice. When the kids are bathed, smell clean and using “inside” voices, it just all adds up as a great moment. That’s what happened tonight. Both of the kids were happy. They played well together, and for the most part, there were few conflicts of any sort. I think I’m so content because I’m feeling thankful for what I have. I’m thankful that my family is healthy and that we don’t have to get up early tomorrow to go to a hospital.

My mom called to make sure I knew what was the latest for tomorrow. Dad’s cold will not get in the way of him having surgery first thing in the morning. He has to be at the hospital at 4:45 AM. Surgery is scheduled for 7 AM. It is supposed to be over by noon. FIVE HOURS. I didn’t realize it was going to be so long. Now that I’m a fan of Grey’s Anatomy, I have a pretty clear visual of what I assume the scene will look like. The thought of heart/lung machines and his chest cracked open for that long is pretty weird. I can only hope that his surgeon, (and his hot, young assistant surgeons), will all be thrilled at the prospect of giving my dad a new valve and a longer, healthier future. Sure there’ll be a few harrowing moments, but in the end my dad will come through with flying colors and they’ll all go to some neighborhood bar tomorrow night and talk about how cool it was to touch my dad’s beating heart.

I will wait all morning for my brother to call and tell me that everything is fine. I will also wait for my realtor to call and tell me that our closing (also in the morning) went smoothly. Tomorrow is the 28th. Finally. Our vacation home is going to a good family.
I do feel peaceful, but I can’t exactly tell you why. I think it’s because I know I am going home. My parents desperately need me and I’m looking forward to helping them. I will miss my kids and my husband terribly, but I’m keeping my perspective. There will be plenty of Halloweens for me to enjoy with them. My parents will probably never need me this much ever again. They are my biggest fans. Their loyalty to me is unsurpassed. I cannot wait to give back

Sunset back home

 

Did I teach my son to say that?

Harry is not a big talker. Not the kind to give me lots of details about his day. I have to go to my neighbor to find out what’s really going on in his class. Today, however, was a little different. Usually I have to beg to get even tiny tidbits of information about anything going on in his Kindergarten world. Not today. I give credit to a stranger. An important stranger - Harrison's first substitute teacher.

Me: “Did you smile for your picture today?” (retakes – first one is pretty horrid)

Harry: “I didn’t get my picture taken today. We had a substitute today and she got all freaked out and forgot.”

Me: “What?”

Harry: “Yeah, she got mixed up and forgot.”

Me: (fuming because now I’m stuck with the goofy original picture due to this woman) “That’s okay – we all make mistakes.”

Harry: “Oh – you know what else happened? Julian got hurt on the playground and she really started freaking out.”

Me: (not sure if I should laugh or be alarmed) “What happened to Julian?”

Harry: “He got hurt and ran inside. She was really freaking out.”

Me: “She thought Julian was lost?”

Harry: “Yeah, she was really freaking out.”

Stuff going through my head

This is a picture of my office. I'm in the one on the right. My school just moved into a new building and this was obviously taken before completion. It's much better than the portable classroom we were housed in last year, but I really wish I had a window. I should be thrilled to be in a new space, but I'm not. I don't like my job right now. That's all I'll say.

I think I'm more worried about my dad's upcoming heart surgery than I thought. I find myself crying about it at the weirdest moments. He has a cold that won't go away. He may not be able to have the surgery this Friday if he doesn't get healthy. I have a plane ticket for Sunday. I hope I don't have to change it.

The details for our house closing this Friday are all coming together. I will probably find it hard to celebrate due to my dad's surgery and the fact that we lost our SHIRTS!!!! on this sale.

My mom's health status is starting to get to her. She casually mentioned to me, at the end of a phone conversation this morning, that she thinks she's heading into a deep depression. Ummm. I don't know how to handle that. I can't tell her to get out and keep busy - she's bedridden. I guess I knew this was coming.

I'm happy that Ella's asthma is under control. She is back to her happy, semi-compliant self.

As I mention weekly, life can be tedious. I am very lucky to have a best friend in my husband. Without his cooperation and support, I doubt I could get through all of this. He puts up with my deer-in-the-headlights perma-look lately. I seem to just stand in the middle of rooms and spin around - not knowing why I'm in that room or what I need to be doing.

I'm kind of mad at God. I wish that my mom could get a break.

I love Fall in Utah. It's warm and colorful.

I'm exhausted most of the time. I think someone should invent a coffee that could keep me awake, yet never give me the shakes.

That's it for now.

Watch out, Emeril!

I get to stay home this morning with the kids because Ella is not "significantly better" by today which means we need to go back to the doctor. Her orders.

I jumped in the shower hoping they would both stay put, but I had this feeling.

Sure enough - when I got out, Harrison had the bowl for pancakes out, the mix and a glass of water. He had gone ahead and mixed up the batter without me. No measuring cups needed. My first instinct - besides wondering how we were going to use the five gallons of batter he had mixed up - was to assume that his pancake mix would be bad. Not as good as mine - the one I create by following the dirctions impeccably.

I added a bit of mix because the dough seemed watery. I made some pancakes before my addition, though. Wouldn't you know - his mix was better. His pancakes were lighter and fluffier. Damn kid. 

I need a do-over

In the college class I’m co-teaching, “Essentials of College Study”, we cover all sorts of wonderful topics that would make anyone a better student and, in general, a more efficient human being. Since the semester began, we’ve helped our students discover their learning styles, taught them how to use their time more efficiently and how to read more effectively. I did a fun unit on memory and how to retrieve information from your brain when you need it and now I’m teaching them about note taking (YAWN) and taking responsibility for yourself (SOMEONE HAS TO!)

All of these techniques and skills have some things in common – they insist that the student is motivated and that they are organized. WHO WOULDN’T BE MORE EFFECTIVE IN LIFE IF THEY COULD BE THIS WAY!

I’m sitting at my desk at school writing this, instead of planning for today’s lecture, because I’m still winding down from my morning BEFORE I left for work. It’s mid-morning and I’m still frazzled. As I prepare to tell my students, this afternoon, how to organize the things they hear in a lecture into legible graphic organizers, I am feeling hypocritical. I can’t organize my sock drawer, let alone my lesson plan or work priorities.

This morning I turned off the alarm at 5:00 AM and fell back asleep until 5:08 AM. Not a big deal, but enough to throw me off a bit. I jumped up and grabbed my bike shorts, etc. and went into the bathroom to change. I decided that I was too tired to put my contacts in at that moment and went to the kitchen to get some water and a graham cracker. I turned on my laptop and checked many of my favorite blogs and the news. Out of character, I thought of a cute little post and proceeded to enter it. It didn’t post right and I fussed for about 5 minutes until I realized how late I was. At 5:45, which is when I’m normally in my car, I ran into the bathroom and realized that I still had to put in my contacts, pull my hair back and fill my water bottle.

I made it to my spinning class on time, but was a tad flustered. I was home at 7:04 and the kids were just coming out of their room. The starting gun had fired.

Harry: “Moooommmm? Ella is getting out of bed even though she’s sick.” (Ella has a bad cough, and because she has asthma, we take her to the doctor often. Harry went with yesterday.)

Ella: (WHINE, WHINE)

Me: “It’s ok – it’s time to get up anyway.”

Milk was put in sippy cups and the two were sent to the TV to watch cartoons so that I could get ready for work. I then picked out their outfits and laid them on their beds. It’s now about 7:11 AM and I hear Chris starting the shower. “HEY! I need to get in there first,” I screamed. “I’ve been out here doing SELFLESS things and … well…let me go first.” I got my way and took a really fast shower followed by a quick application of minimal makeup.

At this point, I am trying not to be mad at Chris. He has been working really late hours lately and needed to sleep in a bit. I raced into the kitchen and started making three lunches. Of course, I try to incorporate all the food groups and won’t buy those pre-packaged snack-able thingys. I started cursing myself for that. Washing pea pods and cutting apples into slices is FOR THE BIRDS on days like today. At 7:28 AM, I’m somewhere in the middle of the lunch making process, when I realize that the kids are not dressed. I turn off Mr. Rogers and tell them to get dressed before the TV will come back on. Ella doesn’t like her shirt. “I want the one with the flowers!” “This one?” “No.” “This one?” “No.” “This one?” “No.” It was at this point that I lost it. I still had no idea what I was wearing today. My hair was sopping wet. My kids hadn’t eaten breakfast and the backpacks weren’t even organized yet. I had a melt down and grabbed EVERY shirt in Ella’s drawer and threw them on her bed and the floor. It took me three handfuls to empty the drawer. With a crazed look in my eye, I screamed, “PICK ANY SHIRT YOU WANT – I REALLY DON’T CARE.” Harrison knew this was his moment. For once, he was the “good” child. The compliant child. “Look Mommy! I’m all dressed.” It was a scene that I never want to see again. I was thankful that Chris was still in the bathroom with the fan on and couldn’t hear me.

I walked out of their room and finished the lunches, got myself dressed, and started drying my hair. I really thought I had more time, but when I went to put shoes on the kids, I noticed the clock – 7:58 AM. I need to be on the road at 8:00 to get to work at 8:30. I am ALWAYS the last one to arrive. I turned off “Arthur” and tried to calm my voice while I whisper-screamed orders to my two kids: “Get your coats on! Let me tie that shoe again!” “No – you can’t have any more cereal. We’re out of time.”
The coffee (an absolutely NECESSARY companion for my morning commute) was still brewing as I raced out the door with Harrison’s coat and backpack. I noticed, at the end of the driveway, that I had forgotten his lunch. I ran up the driveway to the back door and into the kitchen. No lunch. Chris was at the front door yelling to Harry to come and grab his lunch. I raced out the front door, practically knocking Chris over, and grabbed the lunch like a runner grabs a baton in a relay race. We ran down the sidewalk to the neighbor’s with Ella right behind us - a bowl of cereal and a spoon in tow. I rang their doorbell, tried to be cordial, but ran back with Ella as fast as I could.

As I entered the kitchen again, I grabbed my stuff and screamed for Chris to move the van out of the way of my car. (We have a huge garage that could hold our cars, but we prefer giving our plastic swimming pools plenty of room to breathe and let them occupy the garage, so our cars sit single file in the driveway.) I ran out to the car and had to turn right around to get coffee. I have become an expert at pouring my coffee into a travel mug while simultaneously carrying a laptop backpack, purse and lunch bag on individual fingers in one hand so that I can hold my keys in the other and open doors.

As I finally proceeded down the street at 8:09 AM, I was breathing hard. My phone rang when I was about three blocks away. I had forgotten some papers I wanted to bring today, but I just didn’t have the time or energy to turn around again.

I do realize how I can make my mornings run more smoothly. I KNOW that I can lay out clothes the night before. I KNOW that I could make lunches the night before – or prepackage the lunch dry goods on Sunday for the week. I KNOW that I could use my time while I’m waking up, before exercising, more effectively. What I don’t know is how to find energy to do all that at night. My peak energy period is morning. I don’t have a lot of energy at that time, but I definitely have more than after a long day of work, making dinner, giving baths or running errands. By 9:00 PM, I am done.

Chris announced to me, somewhere in the middle of all the chaos of this morning, that he would be working late tonight. I cannot wait to finish my day, pick up the kids, make them dinner, clean up the mess from last night, this morning and tonight in the kitchen and then fall on the couch for whatever drama or HGTV program interests me.

The cycle of life, right now, is tedious. I’m finishing this post in class while I let my students work on an essay I assigned. I asked them to analyze this quote: “Good or bad, everything we do is our best choice at that moment.” Dr. William Glasser. The assignment is an exercise that has them delve into the concept of self-responsibility. I probably need to write an essay myself. I think we all need reminders about this once in awhile. It’s very easy to lay blame or make excuses. Here’s to a better tomorrow!

Early roots of feminism

Me: What did you and Spencer play at recess today?

H: We played a game.

Me: What game was that?

H: The saaame game we allllways play.

Me: What game was that?

H: (Nonchalantly) Ummm, the girls chase the boys all over the playground.

Monday

She looks how I feel.