Life's been good to me so far

( pictures from PATH this afternoon )

There were a lot of pictures I wanted to take but couldn't, because not everyone in PATH is ok with pictures of their kids appearing publically on the internet :p So I had to steer clear of big group shots and things with people in the background.

Anyway. I was talking to this new woman today, and she shocked me again and again. I think I managed to keep it together and she is nice, but...what?
-she's new to homeschooling, granted, but REALLY FREAKED OUT by things like her daughter doing one side of a worksheet one day and the other side the next day. HOW DO THEY FILE THAT? WHICH DAY DOES IT COUNT AS? Also, any sort of lesson that doesn't involve written work is just being skipped because "THERE'S NO END RESULT!" for record-keeping. She claims to be ultra-paranoid because her daughter got an IEP while still in school, and so she thinks, as a result, that "they'll be examining her more closely". She's planning to try to file her evaluation at a precise peak day so it arrives with as many others as possible to catch as little attention as it can, and all this...really weird stuff. I mean what you submit from an evaluation is a paper that says, "I, _______, a certified teacher (see attached) have found this student _________ to have satisfactorily completed x grade on this date _______". "Signature". I'm so used to extremely laid back parents - who do tons of hands on and interactive stuff and write things like "played outside for one hour - P.E.; "counted their money and shopped for half an hour - math" on their daily logs if they even keep them that it was really o_O
-she paid $18,000 for a 9 week tutoring course prior to resorting to homeschool...even though her child was attending school on scholarship. EIGHTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR A NINE WEEK SUPPLEMENTARY COURSE.
-she is Catholic and kept saying really exclusionary things to me, like I was explaining that I wasn't raised Christian at all and am in the process of converting to Catholicism and she was like, really gaspingly aghast that I could have agnostic parents and even said "Thank goodness you turned out alright!!" with this obvious shock. I didn't have the heart to tell her she was sitting in a group of very mixed-belief people at that moment.
-at the beginning of the meeting, it was "oh, your daughter's in a tie dye shirt. I think I saw someone else in tie dye..." and towards the end, "Wow...two kids in tie dye, huh". She also made a point of talking about how her daughter had said how she would love pink hair after seeing Annie last time and she told her NO WAY. This was not a laughing haha thing, it was a firm decree that no child of hers will have pink hair.
-she was very upset that I let any of my kids out of my sight at all, at this upscale playground that is completely fenced and where they know, like, every other adult and kid there. She kept jumping up out of her seat and yelping about Isaac riding his bike on the part of the sidewalk that is parallel to the parking lot. Which nobody was even driving in.

It's bizarre, I really want to like this woman - she is a really committed parent and was super nice without being at all wack the first week I talked to her. She cried when somebody told her about our 2007 after some reference to Elise wasn't understood! I am definitely not used to having anyone at park who I think it crazy. Whatevs man. Believe it or not, I don't meet "weird" homeschoolers very often. It stands out to me when a kid seems stunted or sheltered or a parent is neurotic or judgemental.

Speaking of homeschool, A and A started this science enrichment class on Tuesday that will be every Tuesday afternoon for 6 weeks. I am psyched about it, a former middle school science teacher - the same one who organizes the Physical Fitness Testing - is teaching it and the curriculum is awesome, it's all stuff it would be hard to do at home. Dry ice and liquid nitrogen, simple machines, all kinds of cumulative tie together things that amount to "mini physical science". A and A are saying things like, "Can you believe every single thing we can see right now is made out of atoms, and all the electrons are MOVING?" randomly. Asking me to research whether this or that could be true since electrons speed up when things heat up, I love watching them. I debated this because between the two of them it came to $90 and while that is a great value (they're renting a space, using tons of materials and obviously Katie is taking the time) we are SO STRAPPED right now...I'm really glad we went for it.

AND, I highly reccomend Brain Quest workbooks. The big fat grade leveled multi-subject ones. Ananda is claiming her new favorite subject is Probability and Data because of Brain Quest, and they helped me realize that Aaron had completely forgotten how to read "regular" (non-digital) clocks since he never sees them IRL, apparently. They have so much real information, the kids have to actually learn interesting things in order to complete the assignments - say, it's a grammar assignment, but all the sentences involved are about a historical event. Or the word problems all relate to real astronomy. They're kind of pricey ($11 each) but FAT and come with stickers and pull out maps.

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I'm in a transitional place, personally. Struggling to make ETL work. Returning to a deeper faith life. Getting back into regular touch with some old friends. Waiting to hear from agents and contests and editors...

I got triggered really badly a month ago and realized I do still have PTSD, after all...on our way back from our anniversay date, we drove past the place I was tortured and ridiculedJackson Hospital. I silently untied the straps to my wrap dress, as the knot presses against the spot on my back where I had epidurals done, and had a hematoma. Only slightly frantically. I used to not be able to wear that dress at all, back when I couldn't sleep and cried too often and didn't have any patience for my kids. Grant had the good grace to acknowledge that I did not want to talk about it as the car swerved (I was driving) and the belt things slapped over his lap (they're really long). We went on about other things and I was like, "See, I forgot all about it, I'm not even thinking about that anymore" to myself most of the way home. Then we got home and I really did forget about it, as I'd had a great night and we had a lot of happy people to greet us at the door.

Two nights later on LOST that damned Jack had to be doing spinal surgery on somebody, and I hate OR scenes, and I hate the idea of backs being opened up, and I really hate when Grant is like "Can you handle this?" or "Don't look" because I am FINE, damnitt, I am just fucking fine, it has been a long time and I'm not, like...crazy, or something. I'm not some little kid who can't handle scary movies!

So then I spent a couple of nights dodging sleep and a couple of nights having nightmares - albeit not THAT nightmare - and finally I realized all this stuff was connected and ever since then I've been like, does my hernia seem to be bigger to you? Do you think my belly is sticking out further? How do I turn off images so I can google things without seeing horrible shit? And then Death Cab For Cutie comes on and they're like, "And it came to me then, that every plan is a tiny prayer to father Time - as I stared at my shoes in the ICU that reeked of piss and 409", and I'm like fuck this song, fuck this band, fuck this whole iPod.

That happened in the parking lot where I was buying, like, the fifth (dollar store, at least) pregnancy test in a week when my period wasn't even due yet, because I had this mad terror I could be pregnant and if I WAS! Then what?! Then fucking WHAT?! And everytime this anxiety would start I would rush off and get one so I could just KNOW right then and not lose my mind completely...even though there is, like, no way I could actually be pregnant.

I wrote a lot, I wrote, of all things, the preface and the epilogue to my surgery book (main body still a work in progress).

So. That seems to have mostly passed, for now. More of a swell than a big wave, Thank God. I'd really like it if PTSD weren't so much like being an alcoholic, where even if you haven't drank in 10 years...you're still an alcoholic. I am really not so keen on having a diagnosed mental illness. Condition. However they term it.

On the way to Anne's Beach on Elise's birthday it was beginning to fade away again, and Grant and I talked about it a lot. PTSD is when traumatic memories are stored in the short term memory part of your brain, rather than the long term memory part, such that when you are reminded of them it FEELS as if you are back in the situation - currently experiencing it. For instance when I talk about Elise's birth or the sponge incident, it gives me pause, it makes me somber, it really kind of bugs my eyes out how bad that year was.

But when I remember anything about Jake's, I immediately start uncontrollably crying, and getting waves of nausea. As such my subconscious does all sorts of tricks to keep that from happening, like I blank out and can't find words to talk about it or to write down. Over and over, even when I'm concentrating hard with my eyes shut and my fingers on my temples.

It makes me analyze...I've been through a lot of potentially traumatic things. Epic weather disaster that leveled my town, molestation, my mother leaving me as a teenager, abuse of my infant, DEATH of a second trimester fetus that came out of me decayed in a bathtub. I have a little bit of street cred here and I wasn't crazied up from any of that other hoohaw.

I think that being in (hard, intense, 90% on a monitor, every couple of minute contractions) labor for 3 days and 3 nights, with Jake...all that pain, the extreme sleep deprivation...I think it completely stripped me of all my normal mental defences. Such that I walked into that hospital raw, and vulnerable in a way I hadn't ever been in my life. And so...

I was going to talk about details of what happened at Jackson to do this, but my mind is blanking out so badly I can't find the words or memories. I am not going there tonight, I guess. I don't really want to be crying anyway, honestly, I feel nice and analytical right now.

It's just interesting. And pissy. 2007 compounded things for sure because I already had surgery related PTSD and...well, it was horrible...but judging from the levels of reaction I have to it now and how I've worked through so much of it, I think I would be a heck of a lot more ALRIGHT with 2007 if it weren't for October of 2005.

EMDR, the type of therapy I was having when I was in therapy, really helped me tremendously. The theory is that it moves the traumatic events from your short term memory, where it is misplaced, to your long term, where it belongs. You still remember it all, but as a memory. Not as something with any current power over you to where you sweat and your stomach clenches and you get a sudden headache, in the grocery store, because it passes through your mind.

When I do get triggered badly enough for it to disrupt my life in some way (loss of sleep, altered state of dress :p), it reminds me that it's been months since that happened, and...well...years since the Really Bad Time. That seems almost impossible, but it's true, it's been about 2 years now since I was terrible screwed up and unable to function to normal capacity. I think back to the nightmare I was living in the first half of 2008 and it only makes me glad I get reminded of all this, because I take the time to appreciate how far I am from that wrecktastic bs. I can't even imagine calling G at work hyterically, now, begging him to come home, telling him he had no idea how bad it was, how hopeless I was...and I was doing that on a regular basis. I can't imagine interpreting every approach of my kids as a chink in the thin facade holding me together, and just doing whatever I could to get them to leave me alone.

So yeah. I don't know how much of EMDR was placebo for me, because I did (do) really believe in it. I don't think this really matters anyway (placebo or not). Damn it was awesome either way. I had extremely consistent, distressing physical symptoms that just DISSAPEARED after some guided visualizations!

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Grant's weeklong trip to the Smoky Mountains starts in just over a week. I am excited for him, and also feeling sad...he is amazing and I don't know how to sleep without him. In a sweet testament to how groovy long term relationships can be, he somehow found some new magical spot on me a few nights ago - basically he can stroke my inner wrist in a way that almost instantly takes me from chatty/insomnia to so sleepy I can't do more than grunt. He also helps me channel all my frazzled, stir crazy, creative/sexual energy and I don't know how to GET RID OF IT without him, sometimes...it gets really big. He can bite me and surprise me and give me goosebumps and make all my thoughts dissapear until I'm a happy pile of mush. A WEEK IS A LONG TIME!

As I'll be taking Aaron to NYC at the end of July (assuming we magically manage to afford it all somehow), we'll be spending two different entire weeks apart this summer. It makes me furrow my eyebrows, even though that NY trip is also something I'm excited about.

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I cannot get enough of this. I will never get enough of this. It is one of the best cinematic ventures of the twentieth century:

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And. Formspring. I think I'm closing it down soon, because it takes up too much time in addition to other crap I do online, and it's too much typing for a format that isn't searchable or tagged or archived in any decent way. I've been asked several times if I would consider doing something where I answer questions on video. So yeah sure. I'll actually do it this time instead of just saying "ok". Basically at some point in the next 24-48 hours I'm going to take all the questions in my inbox and answer them on video. Exciting, I know :p I'll probably post the video here and there, now that I know YouTube videos will embed in a formspring answer.

This should be obvious, but I somehow feel I have to say, anyway, that I reserve the right NOT to answer your question. If you come masquerading as part of babyslime's family, if you are just blatantly being dumb like the person who said Quick! What's 9x9? Can you really teach your kids? and then baited me "You really didn't know 9x9??" - your question might not get posted ;) In general I am ok with sincere honesty even when it's challenging or potentially offensive.

I am also not likely to talk as much as I type because that's just how I am.

Grant should be here any minute. That's a wrap.

My Valentine's Day was really awesome ♥

We'd gotten small gifts for each of the kids and put them at their places at the table with their breakfasts:

Ananda - a half-pound brick of Belgium chocolate from Whole Foods, in a little owl gift bag (which she ate all of in one afternoon, WHAT?)

Aaron - a poster he can color of a rocket ship and a scented candle (which he has already burned his very short hair on somehow - he had ashes on his forehead)

Isaac - the little Valentine's Fancy Nancy book with stickers in the back, and a big heart shaped lollipop

Jake - a Monster's Inc thing he can color and hang on the wall by his bed, and a candy necklace

Elise - a Sesame Street shapes book and some socks with hearts

Aside from Ananda's and the FN book, everything was from the Target dollar section, so that was pretty great.

Some of the kids made Valentines for Oma (mil) and we went up there in the afternoon. She has a new little puppy that they all loved and it kept them distracted as she vented to me on the crazy load of crap she has to deal with. If anyone wants to pray for Grant's mother Teresa, she has a husband going through cancer that just threw her a major curveball re: trusting him ever again, and she is in charge of Mindy's 3 kids, two of whom are in-patient for psychiatric reasons right now (Nadia long term, Robby short). She was happy to get a visit and a tiny vase of flowers and a plastic gold coin and a card, and happily passed out her wayward husband's undeserved chocolates to us ;) But this woman has her own health concerns that are pretty serious, and she's only like 50.

Then Grant and I went out alone. We planned on an insanely long wait time for a restaurant and so we spent it walking around stores, laughing and making out. Then, we had the most scrumptous, luscious, foodgasming dinner ever at Olive Garden. I mean...I nearly caused a scene with my ecstasy. Oily, salty bread dipped in alfredo sauce, mushrooms stuffed with crab and cheese, and OH MY GOSH this new thing that they have...I forget the name, but it amounts to fat ravioli super stuffed with like 5 kinds of cheese, in a tomato alfredo sauce, with the most tender and amazing breaded chicken you can imagine. We were so full. And so beautiful. It was epic.

There were drunken canoodling lesbians in the booth next to us that shrieked and hid behind menus when we glanced towards them. And then Grant got the best "That's what she said" EVER in when I innocently commented on getting burned by a stuffed mushroom: "That one's juice was really hot and squirty, I wasn't ready for it. And it was A LOT".

We came back and checked in, I nursed Elise and got her to sleep and we put on a movie for the kids, and then we went up to the mall to see Valentine's Day, in a "this is going to be DUMB, but there is seriously nothing playing and we'll laugh with it or at it" way. And we did, both (more of the latter). And there were some fierce drag queens in the bathroom afterwards. Wrapped it all up hours later with Reese's peanut butter hearts and lazy lovin'.

All in all I love my husband and feel so, so lucky.

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Today, I was surprised to find it's President's Day and so my kids DON'T have dance classes, and I've had a massive influx of formspring questions. At one point I went to find my 3 smallest kids and found that Jake had loaded up a cooler with stuff from the fridge, grabbed the picnic blanket, and taken the other two on a "journey". They were lunching in the far corner of the backyard when I found them (where they rarely go - the sideyard is the "kids" yard).

Soon - the grocery store. Riveting, I know. I also have a tennis date with Grant and the Wii at approximately 2 am.

This day is Surreal, Incorporated.

It was gray and raining when I woke up far, far earlier than normal and stumbled out into my dim, quiet, sleeping house. I was horrified by my puffy, creased face in the mirror and it occured to me that I might get...old, one day. I applied emergency moisturizer and laid about with cucumber slices on. Then I took care of someone else's kids before my own were awake, and sent out an email about watching someone's children in my house on a regular basis, for pay. This was to my Natural Parenting group. Grant woke up far later than I did for the first time in months, we had lunch with Kristin and her kids, and then I blasted into the past with an hour of convoluted and confusing phone calls that gradually worked me towards the center of the knot which is Temporary and One Time Financial Help in Dade County. I have not visited that network of endless ringing, indefinite hold times and secret contacts you only earn knowledge of through perseverance since I was a single 19 year old with a toddler on each hip. It helps my sense of rightness some that I've donated many times over, by now, to the main organization I am hopeful about (St. Vincent de Paul).

Then I got a fabulous phone call from a local Mama in my group, who is a nurse, and may start leaving her two young daughters - who are, oddly, named Erin and Elise - here with us for her 2-3 12 hour shifts per week. It is great to get a serious reply so quickly, and also an ideal situation in many ways. She is right here in Homestead; her own mother is local and happy to have her grandkids for short periods anytime if, say, we want to go to church on a Sunday or I need to take A and A to dance on a Monday evening (she just can't handle the 2-3 full shifts with them weekly); the kids are very nice (my sister has had them at her house before for playdates). Also this woman is going to be at my house tomorrow anyway, so we can talk about it together, then. Pressure to clean well has increased a thousandfold, but hey, this is still perfect. This woman is newly pregnant and wants to homeschool eventually so she doesn't want a permanent setup, which is another good match as I really don't want to do this forever. But for now? It is a major blessing. With two kids, and those hours, and her used to paying quality daycare prices, it could be a significant source of income over the next six months to a year. We will see. If it doesn't work out and I don't get more replies, I'll probably post on sittercity.com or something.

Then I took a nap. In the middle of the day. Which I desperately needed and Grant was even nice enough to cook some good food while I was out - yet waking halfway through the still-gray day that began too soon was disorienting at best. I finished the postdated "I need an agent" post you all have already seen, changed my journal settings so it will be included in search engine results, and then realized the tornado warning has been lifted and we're going to have a half hour of sun before it's dark out. Weird.

Grant and I also called our loan company's "Lower My Payments" department about paperwork we have pending and now Bob and the kids are in his room playing Monopoly. Minus Jake and Elise, who are using our giant-sized wooden blocks as "skates" and sliding around the tile.

I have a really, really busy evening ahead, that is going to be laden with boiling water, vaccuming, laundry tending, baking for tomorrow's event, surface clearing, toy organizing, and cramming every spare second with writing research and agent queries. I think I might need to begin with a relaxing bath and then move on to the whirlwind activity.

Post Script: I'm kind of losing my mind from the level of anxiety financial stress is putting on Grant. I am devoting a lot of time and energy to helping to solve our crisis, but I don't see what help it is to have a stroke in the meantime. He is almost immobilized to the point of not being able to function by tension about money. I am actually seriously worried about him. I considered begging him to call in sick this evening because he seemed like he shouldn't even get on the highway. I am trying to gauge how much this has to do with his sugar and caffeine rollercoaster, what is stored up stuff he never dealt with, and what I can do anything about on his behalf. We're in the very unusual situation of him genuinely not seeming to be able to HEAR me or process anything I say, when we talk about money - and we always are, because it is literally the only thing he thinks about. There have been a dozen times I've become alarmed when I glanced at his face and asked, "What wrong?!" only to discover...it's still that. But so long as we're on this subject, it's like my voice causes him to glaze over completely and then he just repeats himself again. I am starting to imagine him gradually steaming and finally bursting into flames as he pours over excel spreadsheets and analyzes our bank records. Except it isn't funny in my mind. I'm trying to understand how we have different roles here; I feel like my job is done because the children are unphased and doing well, and concern myself about things like their Christmas presents and bedtime reading, while the money burden falls on him. It's easier for me to say, "It will work out", because I am not the one responsible for MAKING IT work out. And yet, that is not completely true...I have always viewed it as "our burden". I am trying to solve the problem, too. And I'll certainly share in the consequences of whatever fallout we may experience. *sigh* I am closer than I've ever been in our marriage to saying, "You really need to just drink a soda, man". I really wish he knew how to just let go for an hour and let me give him a massage while we laugh about things. Maybe we can watch the new episode of The Office when he gets home late tonight...

In the midst of going through all this old stuff from Grant Sr's and journals and blah blah blah I often find myself nostalgic, or irritable, or freaked out, or laughing my head off at some bit of memorabilia. I never know when I'll come to the red arm band I was wearing during my transfusion, or that toddler picture I totally forgot about, or that letter with jokes and drawings all over it that was so funny, or whatever. High school friends, camp friends, internet friends, mommy friends - pastors galore, counselors, and teachers. Relatives.

Then there are letters I got at camp, from Grant - he wasn't at camp because he was staying in Homestead to babysit my brother, which was normally my job, and there was no way I could've gone to camp if someone else hadn't been available to do that because my mom had to work.

The sexy letters from my teenage boyfriend Grant.

The letters I got from my very best friend Grant while I was with someone else.

The confused and disillutioned letters when he was breaking up with other girls.

The 14 page letter with a cd-soundtrack about how he had always been in love with me and always would be, and he expected nothing in return. How very much he loved my children and how they were geniuses because of all I did with and for them and how he wanted me to be happy always.

The ridiculous cards. Dozens of them from so many occassions.

The suited-up-for-cesarean shots of him.

Wedding pictures, NICU pictures, isn't it really wack that he STILL looks so hot to me in that one where he's only 14 and I was taking the picture because he looked so hot to me that day, when I was also 14? This smooth neck and jawline thing. He was so pale.

I was different the first day I woke up married. Some panicky jumpy part of myself had CALMED DOWN. Maybe all my paranoia and inability to trust would come true and he'd die or hurt me...but I was his wife and nothing could take it away. If he died I'd be Tina Walker, I'd be a widow, it wouldn't be any more confusing muddled up girlfriend bs. I'd spent weeks in this terror that something terrible was going to happen because there was no way I could be a real legitimate married person. But then...I was. Sacramental bond.

Today he walked in wearing his business clothes, all bearded and broad shouldered and tan like he is, and he took off his tie and unbuttoned some buttons and pulled out his poneytail holder and I think I had a fangirl moment, I had to squeal and throw my panties.

Sometimes I run my fingers through his chest hair and think about when he didn't have any chest hair.

Rollercoasters; taking turns pacing with the kozy carrier; sitting in the van - up late in the dark on the road being goofy; falling asleep and waking up - dozing and dreaming and warm skin under the covers.

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more

-the Beatles

I had a good and productive day. I did just about everything I set out to do.

Got up early, took a shower, stuck to my eating plan. Did two math lessons with Ananda and Aaron - we're doing double math and little else for a short while because they have some holes in their math knowledge and I'm trying to get them up to speed there. I baked a couple of pumpkins and made pumpkin bread with the resulting puree, for tea. We went and got our produce in the morning, deposited checks in the bank, and Aaron got to his evening dance class on time. Also I finally remembered to get our toothpaste, which is only really at Whole Foods, while we were up there today.

Robby came over for tea. He had planned it with me last night over AIM. He showed up, almost 15, with his big hair with it's growing-out-highlights, extremely skinny jeans, 2 layered tops, and what for all the world appeared to be Ugg boots. Yes, yes, it is in the upper 80s here again - ah to be young, gay, and going to the redneck highschool. He was texting me from school today.

(for background, the other day he updated his facebook to say he just heard a teacher tell a kid who had his phone under the desk messing with it, "Either you're playing with your penis, or you're texting - either way, put it away son")
Robby's text: Ugh, they're doing FCAT reviews and I'm stuck in the same class all day, craving your cooking.
Me: Aren't you worried your teacher is going to accuse you of something embarassing in class for texting right now?
Robby: I've got it out, it's ok with him.
Me: WHOA.
Robby: lol, wow.

Most of our conversations are not nearly so ridiculous.

I pulled out all the stops for tea, with sugar cubes and honey in our silly honeycomb and coconut milk to pour into ginger peach tea in the little creamer. And the pumpkin bread, a big fancy bundt cake. We had it all on a huge red quilt in the sideyard with the rabbits hopping around in a pen nearby and chickens pecking crumbs off our plates and drinking from our teacups. The kids made him watch them do a ton of tricks and stunts and view an assortment of lego creations, and he helped me hang a Fisher Price swing I got for Elise off of freecycle the other day (as in, he climbed the tree to hang knots). He told us he was telling everyone at school today, in a British accent, that he was "having afternoon tea with the chickens later" and nobody believed it.

I invited him back for Friday, to come to game night at the bookstore with us. It's really, REALLY weird how Ananda and Aaron are at the super annoying tween age he used to be when he irritated me half to death. THEY are irritating me like that now. I really don't care for this stage of false bravado and general distain for everything. Give me infant-to-preschoolers or teens any day.

I talked to my friend Michelle...one of my friends Michelle, I actually have 3 Michelles in my phone now counting my aunt...and she got me all excited about planning Nancy's Birthgirlz event and selling books of my own and things like that.

I talked to my Dad for awhile and he told me this INSANE theory he has about how the Catholic Church doesn't allow priests to marry because that way the church can have all their stuff when they die, since they don't have any heirs to inherit it all. "Think about it, multiplied over all the priests - that's a lot of money, Tina". SO CRAZY.

He also told me less crazy and much more intense things, like about how his dad - my Pa - called him up and said he was going to kick the bucket and he had to teach him to cook some things first, so he went down there and cooked things with Pa's directions and really, he is glad he knows how to now. Pa always took care of all of us with food. I'm doing my annual "Scramble to get my paternal family together for Thanksgiving" thing. It's worked 3 times in my adult life, but none of those were last year or the year before...I wish it was easier to get everyone HERE from Key West, because I have room to put people up and to serve a huge meal. Everyone is down there, though, where there's no room for anything.

Having a reeeeeeeeeeaaally hard time not buying stuff. My birthday is 4 days away and I keep putting things in my Amazon cart, searching eBay auctions...I had an original birthday budget I was looking forward to spending, but since then some changes have occured that make that budget not such a good idea :/ I think that because I'm not eating constantly like normal, and also because I'm giving up a lot lately (my office for Bob to move in, pretty much all my normal time and attention from Grant because of his work schedule), I want more STUFF.

Also because a lot of this stuff is either Catholic/Orthodox books, art, or prayer aids, it is hard to feel like it could really be so "wrong" to get them. Blah. And I find such good DEEEEEEEAAALLS!!

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My last few days have been full of:

-Isaac's croup. This is awful. I'm trying to keep the humidifier filled and supplemented with Vicks liquid at night, and his chest smeared with Vicks, and we're letting him sleep in the tv room propped up nearly to a sitting position. Taking turns being out there with him. We were absolutely freaked a couple of nights ago, he was coughing himself purple, vomiting from coughing...the doctor thinks it's the weather. We had the first cold front of the season the other day and it was the first major drop in humidity in like 8 months, which is huge for kids predisposed to this kind of stuff. I'm trying to keep him full of liquids. He actually wants cuddles, which is rare for him - and is enjoying the ripple blanket I made him, that just got done last week.

-that weather was awesome...aside from the croup :/ Isaac enjoyed going out with hot cocoa, popcorn, and "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" on the projector, in the backyard. It was 58 that night, which is A Big Deal here. We've been spending a lot of time outside. A and A have been taking nighttime bike rides with me to see peoples' lit Halloween decorations.

-I'm just losing more and more weight. I'm down 19 pounds now, from 233 to 214. In ONE MONTH. And right now, at 214, I'm due to start my period tomorrow..so by all rights I should be bloated and up a few pounds by my normal patterns. I think it just appeared to slow my rate of loss, this time. This is great because, you know, it's just great. It's also starting to suck a lot though, because it's really messing up my belly bigtime to have all the fat melting away. Just...yuck. The hanging and sagging, the protruding and freakiness, also I have new and previously unexperienced sorts of back pain almost every day now. But none of the accute hernia pain I used to have semi-regularly? So...I dunno.

-This also makes my impending surgery seem more and more immediate and terrifyingly real. I'm having trouble sleeping again. Then today I saw this great article about how much more likely people with PTSD are to die after major surgery because of how the stress and triggers impede their healing and even blood flow. Really, it was so awesome. *this is me stabbing myself in the eye*


I miss Grant so much. Even when he's here, he's not usually here. On the way home from church, or laying in bed cuddling, ANYTIME I ask him my standard, "What are you thinking about?" ...it's something about work. Always. I can't tell to what degree he has to work as much as he is, and to what degree he is a workaholic. He can't either. It's kind of making me nuts, when he's here. When he's gone, I have a fair amount of peace about doing the best I can with my day to day life regardless. Sleeping separately to care for Isaac is not helping our strain any. We sat on the deck watching stuff on the laptop tonight, and layed together for just a few minutes after he had to go to bed. He is supposed to be meeting me around Dance Empire tomorrow afternoon to trade vehicles, take the little kids, and allow me to go write for the 3 hour block of A and A's classes. It's like a partnership between people with separate lives. I'll take my deeply entwined and codependent constant intimacy back now, please.

The thing is I can try to give him all the space he needs to try to get promoted and try to make more money for us. I really can, I was doing that for a couple of weeks. We talked about it just a little, though, and he adamantly doesn't want me to NOT tell him about my day or when he's being kind of an asshole or when I'm thinking something he's not equipped to deal with at the moment. He says we've been making this work really well for a long long time because we are completely open and share every tiniest detail. He's right. But - ? How do I maintain that when he gets home for the first time all day at nearly 9 pm, in a bad mood and needing to be in bed by 10:30, having not even had dinner yet? *sigh*


I am mostly content and grateful.

I am constantly reminded of others' around me who have much larger problems to deal with than I do. And grateful for my ability to give my kids this life and to reach out and help some extras, as well.

It is so, so, SO GOOD to wake up with Grant right there in the bed too, along of course with Jake and Elise, who always join us in the middle of the night. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world snuggling up to his sleep-warmth and breathing him in. And then we're dozing and talking and dreaming and laughing about things and taking turns hugging whoever is not having their turn nursing. Curly smiles full of tiny teeth. Eventually larger children appear.

It is pretty novel to have found a church that has a Mass starting at 12:30. So that after all this there can be sweet showers and homemade blueberries pancakes before we head out the door for church. I have a feeling that once most of us are confirmed and having communion, and thus fasting in the hours before communion, we'll be interested in an earlier Mass so we can have breakfast afterward ;) For now this is rich.

And I weigh myself every morning when I get up. Eat to Live is perfect for me, it really is...it disallows almost every sort of cultural, celebratory, splurging or otherwise emotional eating I could do, leaving only nutrient dense healthy stuff that I eat...to live. I've been doing it for a week now and I started at 233 lbs. Which is NOT OK. So far it's gone...

Morning After Day 1 - 229.6
MAD2 - 228.6
MAD3 - 227.4
MAD4 - 227.0
MAD5 - 226.2
MAD6 - 225.8
MAD7 - 224.2

I am seriously considering staying on a modified version of it for the rest of my life. I feel GOOD.

So Mass - we were a few minutes late, and thus funneled into the Reconciliation Chapel where the Mass is projected on the wall until after the gospel reading and homily, at which point all the late people come on into the main sanctuary during the Profession of Faith. I've never really spent time in the Reconciliation Chapel at St Louis before, and it was good to contemplate - the big and rather grapic crucifix, the beautiful painting of Virgin and Child, the massive banners showing Old Testament scenes, the Stations of the Cross carved out of wood and hung along the walls...and the floor to ceiling stained glass windows in the back. I don't know what I think of them - they're very..."modern" in design? Not sure how to explain it.

The homily was about that whole thing where Jesus says if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off, or your foot, or if your eye causes you to sin pluck it out - because it's better to go through life missing that than to die with the hand, or the eye or whatever. And I was thinking how that is food for me. Cooking food, cooking shows, meal planning, writing about what I've cooked and taking pictures of our dinner and gorging myself constantly and...yeah. I
feel ready to just NOT go to restaurants anymore. NOT have cake on birthdays. All of it. Pluck it out. I had steel cut oats with bananas, flax, blueberries and raisins in them for breakfast, along with a couple of slices of blood orange. I had kale and bean soup for lunch with nutritional yeast sprinkled in it and some walnuts on the side. I'm having a bunch of raw vegetables for dinner and maybe a fruit for dessert. I DO NOT snack outside of mealtimes at all, period. If I didn't prepare for something and we're out or whatever, I'll starve until we get to the house or a grocery store. And this has been working out really well.

So. After Mass we hit Goodwill where I picked up a sweater I will use to make a variation of this doll, for Elise. She has many dolls but they are all too hard to sleep with comfortably so I'm hoping this can be a doll for bed for her.

Stopped off to talk to Oma/Teresa/mother in law and Robby/nephew. He gives me this "We talk on the internet now" meaningful look. I think about Robby more everyday. Ever since he came out, he's got a HARD road ahead of him...what with the CRAZILY HOMOPHOBIC Grant Sr and the MEAN kids at the redneck high school he was going to and all of it...it's really bad. This is on top of the whole "I have no real home and bounce around between 3 houses, my mother's never raised me, I'm now old enough to get it" thing :/ We've done a lot of AIM talking where I'm like, "I'm sorry I distanced myself from you so much when we were younger, I felt helpless and couldn't stand to get my heart broken after everything that happened with my little brother". And he's like, "I really look up to how you are with your kids, it's amazing how you have five and you always have time for them". This is when he's not purposely getting Elton John songs caught in my head maliciously O_o He's also got this virus that is the precursor to mono? So he has like no energy at all and all his shifting guardians thought he was just being a pita by not getting up in the morning and he was catching a lot of hell for it before someone took him to the doctor. Anyway, I've worked it out with Oma and him and they both think him doing Florida Virtual Schools K-12 program online is a good idea, and then I'll just take him to the (REALLY cool) youth group where Jake and Isaac go to AWANA, on Wednesday evenings, and to PATH with us on Thursday afternoons, and hopefully between the two he can be with some kids who aren't assholes sometimes.

I am so satisfied with this arrangement, I have been ACHING to do SOMETHING for Robby, but knowing I have limited resources to promise anybody outside of this household - this is perfect and he seems really grateful.

I really don't think he's a bad kid at all. But I think he could turn into one super easily. It's sort of a miracle he's as good as he is.

Now for my brother...*sigh* He's 19, you know? I feel like I send him postcards and it's kind of the best I can do at this point.


We got home and had leisurely lunch and Grant and I had this incredible, euphoric, I could die right now I'm so happy nap in each other's arms...sometimes I think my heart will burst when we're that close together.

Then Ananda and I took a bike ride. The weather was lovely. And without Aaron around we're kind of unlimited in where we can safely travel. We went all over - we found a crazily rich rural street that ended in someone who had their own golf course situated on their private property, many with their own groves. Some with security cameras wedged into avocado trees. We saw a peacock, and a horse. We also rode through the bank teller lines on our bikes, which I think Ananda thought was awesome. We went all the way to R.F. Orchids and then turned back because it would be dark soon...when I put it in Google Maps, it was about 4.6 miles round trip :)

And now we have our weekly Sunday chicken roasting for our always-super-late Sunday dinner and I don't know, man. But I think life is good.

Also - I got a call from our former nanny yesterday that she received a tweet about how Midwifery Today is looking for writers. And I think I could potentially write a lot of stuff for them. I am definitely close friends with one of the contributing writers and frequently profiled "birth celebrities" ;) We shall see.

Last night we were eating an eagerly anticipated dinner of stuffed poblano peppers, loaded quesadillas and spanish rice, and the kids and I were talking about how some of it got pretty spicy as we ate. Grant, who has an entire cabinet full of hot sauces and uses habeneros in recipes, disagreed, and I told him that not all of us have the Chuck Norris of tongues.

Now, AS THIS WAS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH, I was already regretting it, and sure enough I saw the light come into his eyes as he geared up for the ultimate "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!!!"

Then, he updated his facebook simply saying, "My wife says I have the Chuck Norris of tongues", with no context :p

My husband.

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I realized the other day that we have never put up a single picture of our kids in this new house. We've been living here for over a year and there was literally not one kid picture ANYWHERE. Once I started browsing through our pictures and it was hospital gowns, nasal canulas, oxygen hoods, ivs, me crying with newborns on my chest, me crying with someone nursing, blah blah blah, I was like, oh, right, this is why I've never done this before. It messed me up physically and mentally pretty badly for a couple of days to sift through aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall of our pictures for so long and deal with the resulting questions from watching kids. I was so tense in the neck and shoulders, with low grade nausea and even dizzy spells...it's hard to explain. I did everything I normally do, but in an irritable, out of control FEELING way.

We did indeed get pictures printed though.







And after some purging writing and some talk I feel mostly better about it.

I am considering going back into counseling. It would have to be free counseling right now. But I could probably pull that off. We'll see, I guess. It's weird to think that even when I'm doing so well, there's all this junk lying dormant beneath the surface. I want to dig it all up and get rid of it.

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We rediscovered Goodwill, and let me tell you, it has been exciting. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I really think that I must be in some niche demographic because I keep finding AMAZING things I just can't believe we found for these insanely low thrift prices...

Do you see this stuff?

That is an incredibly heavy CAST IRON molded pan in autumn shapes, that would sell for probably $30-45 at Williams Sonoma. And a handmade glass vase that is totally unique with initials carved in the bottom. And a little neato bowl I just saw a double of at Teavana for $17 the day before.

All 3 items? $4. FOUR DOLLARS TOTAL.

We also got Aaron new heelies in his size for $4, so he's psyched. I'm not normally into secondhand shoes for kids for foot development reasons but these are basically skates and it was too good to pass up. And they let us just take this for free -



I think the biggest thing, though, is the BOOKS. OH MY GOSH THE BOOKS!!! Do other Goodwill customers not read or something? I know poor people read, I have witnessed the phenomenon ;) I've bought over 30 books at 2 Goodwills in the past week, most in brand new condition, split between kids' and adult, and it's been about $22 all told. Bestsellers, award winners, classics, the one Harry Potter that we don't own, perfect looking issues of National Geographic on things like Egypt and Jane Goodall for a quarter apiece. ♥

I am a crazy gluttonous bibliophile in general. I think I feel justified because I am homeschooling five children, and also I read a study once saying that among the three factors most indicative of whether a kid will grow up to love to read, one is owning their own books.

I am also absolutely TERRIBLE about returning library books, like to the point that I've had to pay fees over $300 TWICE and right now have books out from the library that were due back...a year ago. The worst part of that is that we have actually BEEN TO the library at least three times in that year, for PATH functions and a storytime.

This is part of why it thrills me to the core to have our own library. I've had this dream of dedicating a main room of a house only to books basically forever.

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Some random things:

-We've discovered St Louis' Catholic Church in Pinecrest and really like it. The kids and I really liked Sacred Heart, but Grant did not. At all. The kids are not sure about St Louis, but I loved it, and so did Grant. So. Progress, I suppose. Sacred Heart is still here in town available for daily mass and things. Basically SH is a life sized statues, stained glass, very old fashioned music sort of church where both priests have very strong accents - one Irish, one Haitian - which makes them hard to understand at times...and though they have a membership that spans ethnicities and age groups, they don't really "do" anything beyond basic classes and the occasional picnic for people outside of Mass and confession. St Louis is a much more stylized, modern sort of structure and design, and they have a band, and about a billion different bible studies, couples' workshops and seminars, youth activities, retreats, and so on. And Pinecrest is only about 20-25 minutes away.

-I'm almost done with Isaac's ripple blanket.


-Grant made us a tea tray, so I no longer have to berrate myself every day to hurry up and do decopage to cover our old one, which is a big piece of plastic that looks like the flag of Texas O_o It was like $2 on sale in a bin one day so I got it because we needed one. But this is way, way better :)


-And the other day, trimming back our mango tree, we found an old nest. There is talk of painting an egg gold, putting it back in the tree, and taking pictures? And/or all kinds of other nonsense. Everyone has an idea about what we should do with it. And we are all kind of amazed at how birds just instinctively...do this. You can't really see how smooth and well defined the bowl in the center is, here.


-I'm partially done with way too many things right now. The good news is that means I will be done with a whole lot of stuff soon. But in the meantime it's kind of ridiculous...this whole room swap thing is so massively overwhelming as an undertaking, it involves painting, dissasembling and reassembling a desk, moving A LOT OF THINGS, fixing some flooring, installing baseboards, aquiring a couple of new pieces of furniture (probably from Craigslist), deep cleaning of areas we usually neglect. Blah. Everything is going to FEEL so different, when it's finished.

-Friday we got the oil changed in the van. Which for whatever reason took approximately FOUR HOURS. I think maybe they had to pull the engine out and tip it upside down to pour out the old oil? Yeah. So the kids and I walked to my old chiropractor, to give him BirthGirlz propaganda to distribute and solicit him for sponsorship. I got them treats from a Cuban bakery right there and was rewarded for my own resistance to sugar temptations by their A-MAY-ZING chicken fricasse, I mean damn. We discovered a Hurricane Andrew Memorial I'd never known existed and then hung out at the bookstore until it was done, at which time Laura and Frank met us at my house so we could watch Brian while they went to see HP and the Half Blood Prince. Which they loved, and Brian was pretty darn good aside from a single injury-related meltdown (over the course of 4 hours I thought that signified progress).

-We had Paige/likeinabook here with her three youngest kids for 3 days :) I think she really needed it, and it was nice to stay up super late talking theology, and go out just the two of us to the bookstore. That was actually hilarious; she hadn't previously been exposed to all the lustrous offerings of local, self-published Homestead authors with pixelated cover art (and I found French Women Don't Get Fat in the used section for $1). I think she also had the general reaction I do to City Church - moved by the message, impressed by the sincerity, enjoying the music a lot and then left feeling as though you still sort of need to go to church afterwards. Sidenote - I approached the cellist about the string quartet playing an upcoming BirthGirlz event and he is not only totally on board, he is apparently a "big supporter of natural birth and midwives" and thinks they may be able to do it for FREE! WHAT?!

I always love it when there are extra people here and we can bring extra chairs to the table and all sit down to dinner.

I do not love it when Elise is totally unhinged by insecurity in the prescence of a younger child and turns bully. She was seriously off her gourd that Paige's youngest was here to replace her, I was going to nurse her, Annie was going to be her sister - she actually expressed these concerns to me on a regular basis, and pushed 15 month old Clara down any chance she got. And then pulled her hair. And smacked her while she cried. She was trying to sneak off to climb in the playpen with her to abuse her, as though she were a threat from another room. I swear, she is the rottenest miracle I know, and neither lavish reassurance nor multiple timeouts were going to dissuade her.

-My Natural Parenting Group had another potluck and I. LOVED. IT. I love cooking a lot of food and taking it to appreciative people; I love having tons of yummy things OTHER people cooked with no refined sugar or white flour available, like amazing chocolate chip cookies, and seeing my kids tear into fresh homemade ice cream; I love catching up with Michelle and Kristin and feeling as though Dana and Jackie are becoming friends; I love all the kid friends my kids have; I love the FEELING of being in that house with all those like minded families laughing and talking with good music on and everybody relaxed. It's just great for me when there are strangers all around but everyone is smiling, friendly and easy to talk to. Michelle and Hubert, the hosts, are so freaking awesome and we think we're actually going to do a "whole family sleepover" soon wherein all 7 of us go to their house to spend the night, rather than just Ananda and Aaron (they have 6 kids ranging from 4 to 17).

-We got our new chicks in the mail! The mail lady was so exasperated with the chirping for the previous two hours in her truck, but seemed to think it was more worthwhile when we got the scissors and showed her the tiny fluffballs. She has apparently been driving lots of chicks around for years now, but nobody else has ever asked if she wanted to see them, which I think is crazy. Anyway I thought one of our 5 had a potentially serious problem, but with some e-search discovered she just still had her UMBILICAL CORD attached. From her yolk, in her egg, the day before! Who knew such a thing was possible? So far we've had them for 3 days and they're doing well. We've taken them outside for holding and are beginning to see personalities. I will probably post pics soon. It is way cooler, with this batch of chicks, to be able to just glance at them and tell exactly what kind they are and know what they grow up to be. Isaac has named his plymouth white rock "Rockstar"; Aaron is calling his "Harry, which is short for Harrietta and long for H"; Ananda's is Lily, I think because of Harry Potter; Elise's is "Blue" and she's being surprisingly gentle; and Jake is saying his "orpington is named Belina". Like the talking chicken in Return to Oz.

-A and A had their homeschool evaluation on Monday. It went well, they are "officially" in 3rd and 4th grades now. This particular evaluator is Catholic and sent me home with reading material (after I expressed my own interest, she wasn't being pushy). And Paige brought a small stack of books down to leave here, after reading some of my previous entries. So there is a lot of reading about all of this going down. This evaluation was An Event because Ananda, Aaron and I rode our bikes to it and it's the first time Ananda has really left our block on her bike (it's about a mile away). She feels like this whole world has opened up to her, because normally I go off on bikes with Aaron for 45 minutes at a time and she is just stuck here. Since then 1-3 long rides a day can barely satisfy her, and my legs hurt, in a good way (I pretty much always also have Jake or Elise on the back of my bike). She rides around our street half the day while I'm too busy to go. I think between being able to read really well and ride a bike the world is her oyster. ....So to speak? O_o What the hell does that even MEAN? The point is, she is experiencing what seem to her to be huge levels of independence because she can do these things.

-Grant has been what I can only describe as a surly motherfucker lately. Ok, that is actually said partially in humor and it's an exaggeration. He still does things like fix the a/c and garbage disposal promptly while we have company and babysit all 8 small children with grace so we can go out, he is awesome. But he is spending an uncharacteristic lot of time off on his own knowing he is impatient and irritable from caffeine and sugar withdrawal and not wanting to deal with things. I come find him playing video games or some other mindless distraction and say hey baby. And he acts grumpy. And I say, in a googoo gaga baby talk voice as I scratch his chin, "Ooooh, are you a surly motherfucker?" and he starts to reply back in kind and then we just laugh hysterically.

Life really is challenging for him right now, though, and I'm proud of how well he's doing. And happy to see him getting SOOOOOO many less headaches, the migraines were coming like 3-4 bad ones per week before he changed his eating, and lowgrade headaches were just constant. He took the day off yesterday and it was the first day that it was back to being just us in the house, and it was just great. We walked the four blocks over to Grant Sr's like some kind of traveling performance group...Ananda on her bike riding circles around everyone, Aaron on his unicycle, Jake riding Elise's tricycle with her standing on the deck and holding onto his shoulders, and Isaac on his scooter. I got to catch up with my old across-the-street neighbor Aracelia, who rushed out when she saw us all in what was our front yard with $25 for us to buy the kids treats with and a pen and paper for my new number and ridiculous stories of how she planted yuca in the backyard and the neighbors thought it was pot and called the police. So this 79 year old Cuban lady with her freaking garden and trees has a bunch of cop cars out front ringing her bell at 6 am. I don't even know. Two of the cops were cuban so they recognized yuca right away. So silly.

-I have craft opportunities galore. Melissa brought my sewing machine back (she had borrowed it, and then it was in her trunk when they were rear-ended by a large truck so I was afraid it would be beyond repair, but it seems fine), and my next batch of yarn for Isaac's ripple blanket came in the mail last week. I was on fire about that blanket before I ran out of supplies. But I feel as though I should resist both. *sigh* ....aside from my kids needing to be educated and sleep I should be getting at night, I am just haunted 24/7 by the obligation to write. Because I get so much urging to from birth-type people who think it's important; because it's been my life-long dream; because with the settlement long gone and Grant's job making a lot of changes and his side-jobs scaling back, we could use some extra income. Also because in the scant two hour time slot I'm allowed to write uninterrupted each week - while I sit in Starbucks with my laptop near Dance Empire as Ananda and Aaron take two classes in a row each - what gets done is really good. It's flowing. I can make this happen.

I always know I can make journal entries or fiction happen. I even feel confident about nonfiction with a poetic license and dry humor and a generally informal tone. But I was getting intimidated about the c/s book, because it has to be different. I know I can do it now, though, it's slower going but it is going.

-Perhaps the biggest thing to happen this week...my Nana has moved the fingers of her left hand, and then moved her whole left hand, and then been able to pick her left arm up and move the left toes...she's actually done the knee, and scratched her nose, and done a boxing motion of throwing punches on both sides.

THIS IS HUGE.

It gives me goosebumps. She is not all better or anything like that...they are still feeding her, she is still not seeing everything and still confused about reality. But her disposition has improved mightily and SHE'S USING HER LEFT SIDE.

I am totally giving thanks to St. Jude and Jesus Christ about this.

.......and feeling almost scarily boxed into a corner about converting to Catholicism, with regards to what is right, what is real... G and I have been talking about it a lot.

I feel scared in general that anytime I have ever been on a spiritual high, it's generally preceeded Terrible Things. I found God, and like 2 months later my mother moved away and I was left at my Nana's house. Or I just get back into studying scripture regularly, and suddenly I'm having nightmares again. I really believe in a spiritual war, and there is a certain (cowardly) comfort in "laying low", for me. This time at least I feel scared in an at peace with it, this is how it's supposed to be sort of way.



That's doins, folks.

*Annie comes from her bed, wrapped in a blanket, to the office where I'm wasting time on the internet in the middle of the night*

Annie: Where's Aaron?
Me: He thinks he's snuck into the tv room and restarted a movie without me knowing. Really I just don't care or feel like arguing with him right now.
Annie: Ha.
Me: You can go sneak with him, if you want, or you can tell him "Mom says you have to come to your bed" if you can't sleep in there by yourself.
Annie: *finger on her chin, sitting on the futon looking mad with power suddenly* Hmm...well well well. On the one hand, it would be nice to have a night where I went to sleep without him jumping all over me being annoying. On the other hand, sometimes his jokes are pretty funny and I was getting bored. *wanders out with the grin of a dictator*

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So we're burning our way through HP and the Deathly Hallows, Annie and Aaron and I, and let me tell you internet...( Ok let me tell you with spoilers behind a cut just in case there is someone who reads my journal that hasn't read all the Harry Potter books )

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Lychee season is in full swing and huge part of our lives right now. It boggles my mind to imagine many people reading this who have never even heard of or seen a lychee. It is a pink or reddish fruit with hard, bumpy skin, on the outside, that is the most sweet delicious perfection of clearish-white texture inside...there is no describing it. Lychees are bigger than grapes but smaller than peaches. Honestly my friend Kristin is right on when she calls them "testicle fruit", as far as size and shape :p But I digress.

They are only available for two months out of the year. They are feverishly in demand. I know of a woman running a successful local business making the best sorbet EVER out of them, and Grant is helping the winery get their lychee grove videos up. I've propositioned two neighbors with trees covered in underripe ones, so far, asking if we can help them harvest those luscious things, but both said someone else has already paid for them in advance.

We stopped at one of a dozen roadside stands that has sprung up selling them, on the way out to pick up our co-op produce the other day. The lady there amazingly charged me only $3 per pound for them still on twigs, and the kids were INSANELY EXCITED and then, after we got our produce, we saw trees of them near the street out in the Redlands (farming area adjacent to Homestead) surrounded by police tape with signs saying, "Thieves will be shot".

We told everyone at PATH about it as we passed around our giant 5 pound bag of them and as everyone stood around with their sticky fingers there was a lot of understanding nodding - "Lychees are serious business" seemed to be the concensus ;)

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It's raining and storming almost everyday, which I am loving.

I've been cooking like mad.

Elise is driving me NUTS, going through some kind of ultra-clingy regressive phase and wanting to nurse in the night and follow me around whining all day, and climb into my lap moaning and grabbing at me everytime I sit down. Probably some kind of response to speaking in phrases and being out of diapers and feeling insecure. Blah, I hope it passes soon.

Grant and I are playing Scrabble constantly, which is a lot of fun.

Isaac and I are reading The BFG. He tells me every day about the dreams he had the night before. They are all borderline or complete nightmares, but he retells them very calmly and we laugh together about how silly they are (evil talking blueberries that want to bite his tongue if he tries to eat them? An octopus family in the bathtub?).

Jake is sweet and independant and affectionate and generally awesome. We hug and say mantra-like endearments throughout every day. "Sweet Mama!" he says and I say "Sweet Jakey!" back. Or I say, "Mama and Jakey" and he says, "Jakey and Mama!" Whenever Grant and I hug in his vicinity he comes over and asks for a sandwich, which is when we pick him up and hold him between us and he is overcome with bliss.

I stay up far too late every night and we're on a horrible schedule that I'm not terribly motivated to bother fixing.

My libido is out of control. I'm starting to think there is some kind of red alert alarm sounding in my body as my reproductive system panics that I've went so long without being pregnant. Unfortunately, mentally ok with being "done" as I am, these thoughts do nothing to stem the apparent biological emergency.

I'm in a very hermit-like state and it's kind of nice, after weeks and weeks oriented out of my house by hospitalized relatives...visiting them, phone updates, trips out of town, comparing notes with my sister on who has heard what most recently. I feel guilty because there is not really much of a change and some members of my extended family are still very preoccupied with these situations. But I also feel kind of relieved and am enjoying the break from it all. In an, "I hope I do not come to regret this period of rest in between phone calls for some horrible emotionally wraught reason" way.

I'm in a somewhat disconnected, dissociated state all the time lately. Because my Grandpa (mom's bio dad) died three weeks ago and I took her to see his body while she was completely broken down and grieving hard. And my Nana (her bio mom) is in the hospital now, with brain damage. She - my mother - is at the bedside 24/7 and it's wearing her down. Nana is in the ICU, the swelling in her brain just won't quit, she is continuously calling her cat from the bed and saying she's in Pennsylvania (they're in central Florida) and alternating between laughing at how she can't formulate a sentence...and getting really frustrated that she can't express herself, and that something is wrong with her. My mom has to leave when they do physical therapy because she cries the whole time from the pain. Nana's house was my only permanent home growing up, Nana was the boss at the warehouse where I did most of my teenage employment time, Nana is only 61 and is missing work right now, and probably won't ever be able to go back...

And, my Pa (Dad's bio dad) has now been airlifted to Baptist Kendall (here, in Miami) for a heart attack...from Key West...I've been to see him, and I've talked with him on the phone, and Laura is going and we're trying to take him food. All day everyday Laura and I wait for the phone to ring. Nana updates. Pa updates. Mom updates. My Dad is a wreck, he channels his vulnerability into anger and so when I say, "But if they can't give him blood thinners with the ulcer...how will they do the triple bypass?" he explodes, "I don't fucking know, Tina!"

He's 77. Pa. And he is so small now, still the thick head of jet black hair because come on, he's Cuban, but jeeeeeeeeeez the bones. Still saying "I love you Dahlin, you don't have to stay long" and trying to serve me his ice water and make sure I can hear the tv, like he's hosting me in his freaking room in the cardiac ward. I start to wonder horrible ethical questions like whether or not they're feeling very urgent about keeping a 77 year old alive anyway.

Death and life and time passing is this very tangible thing around here lately...I look at Grant with his toothache and his aches and pains and I think of our parents with their complications and...I don't know. I just don't know.

I have these crystal clear moments of raw emotion when I cry the whole day's worth of tears in 10 minutes and pray very fervently. Then I slip back, again.


I'm trying to step back and enjoy my very young, very healthy, very oblivious children, particularly the youngest and healthiest and most miraculous, who is just turning two...we've thrown together a party on short notice and I'm up at this hour baking and cleaning after the kids and I tackled the deck and yard and walls and toilets and things all day...and hit the store for food supplies...and I am happy. And Elise is so excited about having a birthday, she flips when we talk about it.

...And I feel guilty. I know my Mom needs me in Lakeland. I know my Dad is stuck in Key West and expects me to be with Pa more often. I know I'm planning a big celebration in the midst of all this crap, the ICU just keeps rolling 24/7 while we pick out candles and craft supplies and blah blah blah. All day long I have this hum in the back of my mind of needing to make phone calls, at war with this more surface level dread of any more phone calls.

I'm glad I have Annie and Aaron to get goosebumps with, and just FREAK OUT about the Half Blood Prince trailers on the Apple website (GO SEE THEM...seriously), and my amazing good friends to distract and invite and vent with me. I went to pick up an organic produce share from my friend Kristin, who runs a co-op and had extra, and we ended up talking about her life and her issues, which have nothing to do with death or loss of identity or crushing hospital obligation bullshit. Just all the kids playing and her chickens and my chickens and her stand mixer is lime green. And she has normal stuff, LIVE life stuff, issues that don't imply any sort of impermanence...We have a lot of good people coming over here tomorrow, for the party, too.

My husband sends me emails in the middle of his workday telling me how looking up the Sarah Mclachlan lyrics to "Answer" make him think of us. "I love you dearly" as the subject. Then he comes home and uses boiling water on the nasty floors and let's each kid run and leap into his arms in turn. They form a line :)

Just pulling in the parking lot of Baptist makes my mind slip further, and further, and further back. It's like what I do right before surgery - "I'm not really here. I'm completely calm. No feelings."

I have pictures to share...

The chicks are growing up.


And this is what I did with some of that giant flat of fresh picked strawberries we had...that filling is strawberries that have been cut up and soaking in sugar for 2 days as I stir, add more, and repeat. Chocolate buttercream. Om nom nom.


Cheeseless pizza for my dairy free, allergy free lifestyle...the picture does not do it justice. I was upset when I saw it, but ENRAPTURED WHEN I TASTED IT. What does Professor Snape say about potions to that first year class? "Bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses..." yeah, that was this pizza. But really.

It's puttanesca sauce, thin sliced vine ripe tomato, and chopped kalamata olives on the bottom. Then olive oil and salt roasted red peppers, zuccinni and mushrooms, whole black olives, squeezes of lemon juice, and seasoned salt on the whole thing. Thin whole wheat crust. HOLY CRAP JUST TRUST ME AND DO THIS.

A and A having ice cream cake at the Earthday thing we went to, which was also a birthday party. Earthday is my birthday, sponsored by Whole Foods, because my friends manage crap like that.

All the free watered down carrot juice we could drink ;)

And my office...nowhere NEAR DONE, not even painted after months of "we need to..." but how I love it anyway.

My taste in lamps, much like my taste in beds, runs towards "sex den".

I am going to make a ripple blanket for Isaac out of all this, and it's just what he wants. I would never normally have these colors anywhere in my possession, and so I'm practically drinking all the pretty yarn in the yarn bag, everyday...


You see where my color choices for my normal projects tend to go...

Messy desk with roses from my love. All phone calls are better taken that way, btw.

And A and A come to me to show me this "museum" they built.

I really, really wish I had made captions for this the minute they showed it to me, because to hear them narrate what each and every one of those exhibits is (including the cryogenic chamber in the middle) was pretty damned astounding.

While crafting this entry I've also baked two round cakes, 28 large cupcakes and a dozen mini cupcakes. All carrot. And realized, as I tend to when I start quantifying, just how much goodness I have and how lucky I am and how thankful I ought to be.

Also awesome - being able to call my sister up and make her watch this on the phone with me and have us all laugh hysterically. Because somewhere in the middle of all this hysteria there has got to be some laughter.
(MAJOR LANGUAGE WARNINGS, I just don't care about language...love it.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQuibqQj0hM (blast it all ,embedding is disabled)