clickmom

burning

At the funeral home they gave us shiva candles. Dad lit his candle when we got back to his house after the funeral, but the rabbi told us we should light ours when we got home. A shiva candle is a tall thin glass with a plain white candle in it. It burns for seven days.

Right now my candle is quietly burning away on my stove downstairs. Every time I walk through the kitchen I see it. It sits there gently flickering and steadily burning down. At first the candle made me feel kind of panicky. I thought it was burning too fast and wasn't going to last the seven days. But now I think the candle just burns faster in the beginning and slower towards the end. Then I thought about all of the poetical flickering life burning down/ wick/candle in the wind lyrics I could write.

I don't really know what to feel about the candle. It offers me no comfort. But it does have a very strong presence for something I don't have to feed or water or let out to pee. It doesn't make me feel less gypped. I worry about the house burning down.

I wonder if I am supposed to be magically healed when the candle goes out. Or maybe I am supposed to stand up and shake off this funk at the end of seven days. I could pretend that everything is ok once the candle goes out. I guess. I just don't know what it means. Maybe I want someone to tell me how to feel.

Things are not okay right now. Grandma is in the hospital. She had a skin tear on her leg that didn't heal and ended up today with a fever, an infected wound and it turns out cellulitis and a pretty serious blood clot in her leg which is preventing blood flow to that leg.

This leads me to think that maybe mom is calling grandma over to the other side, and I feel comfort in that thought because seeing mom again would be a very pleasant surprise for grandma. Also, my grandpa is over there, and so is grandma's brother and her first child who died at age 2 1/2. It sounds like a fun family reunion, no? When I came home from mom's funeral and ran over to the nursing home to see grandma and realized how very out of it grandma was, she had no idea how long I was gone for, I just saw that grandma wasn't really in grandma's shell anymore. And right now I do not feel sad when I think about maybe losing grandma, I feel at peace with it because I imagine grandma in a better place.

I had to call the scumcle and let him know what was happening today. I hadn't planned on talking to him so soon. He did not go to see grandma in the hospital because he said, he slept all afternoon. He said he couldn't sleep enough since the funeral and that sounds like depression to me. I hope he is depressed. I really do. He has a lot to be depressed about. He messed up his relationship with his sister, and everyone else on this side of the family. At least being depressed proves he is human.

camp letter

Dear Matt,

Leaving you at camp yesterday was such a mixed bag of emotions for me. I was so proud and happy of the young man you have become. I know you know that, but watching you confidently stroll around the camp really brought it home for me. It warmed my heart to see the smiles spread across the faces of the campers and the counselors as they realized who you are. It was obvious to me that you are a well liked and enjoyed contributor there at camp, and that only ads to my already swollen with motherly pride heart.

And as I told you 66 kajillion times (which you so graciously didn't clobber me for each and every time) I am going to miss you like crazy. I am going to miss your laugh, and that knowing look you give me when one of your brothers does or says something not kosher, and I am going to miss your hugs and our jokes and teasing you about your hair, and the stink of your feet, (have they made you store your sandals outside the bunk yet?) and also just having another (almost) adult around to listen to me rant and someone with a level head to bounce ideas off of and also because you are my friend, my son. I really like you. (Not all moms can say that!)

The first few days are always the hardest for the mommy, you know that right?

Today I dragged your brothers around on some errands. We returned some school books I found lying around the house, and went to the bank to deposit some checks. I deposited some for you. There were three here from NaNa and PopPop's bar mitzvah stocks for you. We tried to go back to the barber for them to fix Evan's dumb looking hair disaster, but they aren't opened on Monday. Then Evan got to go to the dentist where he had two cavities filled WITHOUT NOVACAINE. So brave!

After that we grabbed Ev's pal, headed for the mall to pick up shorts and underwear for Ev and then we hung out with the Boop's family until dinner. We went out to eat together and I told Boops about your super mature blanket and she totally got the joke. Ev, however, was totally mortified, which I found fascinating, since it was Ev who dressed as a woman (complete with make up and high heels) last year for Halloween. We tried to explain to him how if you are cool about it then it's a big joke and everyone laughs WITH you instead of AT you, but he remained doubtful. Maybe in a few years he'll relax a little bit.

I love you darling,
Have fun .... and be serious about that video!
I expect to see something amazing from you.

Love, Mom

not entirely gone

On Monday, once dad's daughters had gathered around, dad told us that mom's birds come to the back porch every evening and that we should listen for them. He said that every day at dusk mom really enjoyed watching and listening to the birds. And then he told us about the birds again. But no one really had the focus to go out side and wait for the birds. I don't remember if we noticed birds that evening. It's all a blur, but I am pretty sure no one even looked for mom's birds.

Mom used to tell us that if there was an afterlife she would find a way to communicate with us. And knowing mom's fierce determination we knew she would. So, on Tuesday when I ran over the grocery store for more tissues and bananas with my step sister, I stopped in my tracks when we walked out into the parking lot and saw this:

You can't really tell, but there were some serious heavenly rays coming from those clouds, and I thought to myself, "Hmmm... heavenly rays, mom in heaven, could it be?" and when I got back to the house, and lil sis told me that there had been a magnificent rainbow behind the house, I wondered even more. But then when lil sis told me that she had called my kids out to see the rainbow, I thought to myself, "I really do think this feels like mom." But deep down inside, I pleaded with mom to give me a sign that was just a little more definite, like a handwritten note or something else kind of unmistakable. And then I told lil sis that I had seen an exceptional sky from the grocery store and showed lil sis the picture. And she took my iphone into her hands and stared and stared until I screamed "What?!?!?" and lil whispered back "Is it me or do you see an opened mouth bird in those clouds?" Holy cow, ma!

Then on Wednesday we had the funeral, and afterwards dad's house was packed with all of mom and dad's friends. When it began to get late and the first batch of people decided to head out the sky opened up. So we sat there watching and waiting for the rain to stop. And then lil sis announces another rainbow.

And I run for my camera, because, wow, two rainbows in two days? And we go outside, and not only is there a rainbow but there is a rainbow that arches right over mom's back yard view and we can see both ends as crystal clear as day. And a crowd of mom's family and friends gathers to see this extra amazing rainbow. And 50 people are standing around gazing left and right at that beautiful arch, when a second rainbow appears right around the first rainbow. And it is amazing.

And I declare, that mom always did everything in a big way. And everyone laughs, because it is so true. Because seriously folks, if you saw mom's jewelry drawer you would know that one single rainbow would never do. I have never seen a double rainbow before. I am snapping pictures when lil sis asks me to look at the cloud forming just inside the inner rainbow and lo and behold the tiny little cloud balls are most definitely in the shape of a J. J is mom's first initial.

And now I think to myself, "OMG, I asked for a written note, I'd say her initials are written" So I begin to wonder what it looks like on the other side of the house. I manage to slip away from the crowd, and I head for the front door. Not a rainbow, but not too shabby, right?

And then on Friday, when I was sitting there thinking about how brilliant the sunsets had been all week, and I wondered if it was chance or mom, I happened to glance out the window and even on the plane on my way home from florida, I got the feeling that mom was not done entertaining us yet.

sighing

And I thought I was stress tired before! HA!

I am still walking around in a total disbelief induced haze. I tried to explain this feeling to Matt today and I told him how it's like I have a life map and the life map is everything that is true in my life and someone just snuck right in while my back was turned and I was feeling all safe and sound and that someone went and erased this right now part of my map. And now I am standing here and I am looking at my life map and there is a big empty blank part and I think that maybe I have to grab a pencil and get to work and start this damaged section over but I am just not sure how to do it or what to put in the empty spot. I'm frozen. And I can hardly think. So right now there is lots of nothingness on my map. Because my map was partially erased. And I am not sure what goes in the blank spot. And I don't know when it gets filled in again or even who's job it is to do that. I just don't know how to reconnect the dots.

sigh.

And Matt, my sweet baby Matt, is going to his sleep away camp tomorrow. And I'm not sure how that is going to be for me this year, since without the map and all I just kind of want to knit my kids into a big blanket and wrap them around my very tired shoulders while I sit here rocking back and forth trying to digest what happened and trying to figure out what the next move is. Letting matt go to camp is kind of like being the camper who accidentally falls asleep and lets the campfire go out. It seems like a really dismal prospect. For me. He's going to have a great time.

sigh again.

my life

Three of my parents woman friends took charge of taking care of our family for the past 5 days. They were unbelievable. The three little women would silently slide in and out of the house several times a day, laying out the many platters of food that were delivered all day long, and then turn up later to wrap and store everything for the following day. They brought in plastic cutlery, huge coffee urns, trash bags, and box after box of cookies. They made coffee, emptied the trash, laid out their own table clothes, wiped up spills, and cutest of all, they sent over their housekeepers to tidy up the house at the end of the day. I want to be like them. I am channeling their graciousness as I write this.

In true "this is my life fashion" the limo driver fell asleep behind the wheel on our way from the chapel to the cemetery. I'm not kidding you. He dozed off at a time when all of us in the car had fallen silent. I was in the third row, mindlessly staring out the front window trying to wrap my mind around the reality that in the hearse in front of us my mom was lying in a box. I was staring at the back of the hearse, when I realized that it was getting farther and farther in front of us. I sat up straight and saw that our driver had checked out. I started yelling "Poke him! Poke him!" to my step-BIL in the front seat, but he was frozen in fear. Then the limo started to drift to the left just as a big lawn service truck with a trailer full of mowers was passing us. Lil sis yells out "DUDE WAKE UP!!" and the lawn service guy lays on his horn and the driver regains his (awake status) composure and falls back into the funeral line. Can you even imagine how hard it was for us to get back into that limo with him after the burial? We were imagining the headlines in the next days paper "Six family members and limo driver perish on their way home from local lady's funeral" No thanks.

The scumcle did show up. I figured he would since he was in the country and it was convenient and all. Also, I was sure that there was something he had not stolen from someone yet and he probably wanted one more chance to scope out mom's house. There had been discussion of the scumcle and his antics before I managed to get to dad's side on monday and my very sweet cousin did thoughtfully conceal the two sculptures of grandma's that mom still has. In true scumcle fashion, he comes up to me at the well stocked buffet table a mere hour and half after after we get back to the house (as in my mother had not been in the ground for two hours yet) from the cemetery to ask me if I know where something he once gave to grandma is in mom's house. Yup. You knew it would go down like that right? I mean, who puts the scum-bag in scumcle? Mine does. Though truthfully, his cold as ice wife was following him during the whole ugly interaction and I am pretty sure I saw her holding the puppeteer strings, so in the end, I am still (and maybe I am just being incredibly stupid, but to imagine that my own flesh and blood could be so heartless is devastating) left wondering which half of that couple is so the idiot savant and exactly how the other member one figures into that kind of social deficiency. Maybe they are both socially inept. I dunno.

So this is how it went down. I am standing there surveying the dining room table, plate in hand staring at the abundance, wondering what, if anything, I will be able to keep down, (turns out I can keep an awful lot of corned beef down) when the scumcle glides in. First he expresses concern that somehow grandma is going to force out of him that mom has died. And he feels that he will not be able to lie to her. I tell him that grandma will not be asking about mom, since she can not remember mom and that he is not to under any circumstance bring up mom or her death because that would only serve to upset grandma. It's everything I can do not to slap his face, he is so stupid, because scumcle still won't admit that his mom is losing her marbles. Then one of mom's friends comes over to ask me a question and I tell her that I will be returning in a month to help dad clean out mom's closets. Scumcle hears the word closet and says "Speaking of closets, once I gave grandma a shawl, and I think she may have left it here..." And I cut him off.

Here is the background, scumcle gave grandma a cashmere shawl. A few years later grandma pulled the never used cashmere shawl out of her bureu and gives it to mom. Mom stashed the still unused cashmere shawl in her own closet. Then the whole scumcle stealing statue situation took place. Not long after the scumcle was going through grandma's drawers (as was his custom) when he realized that the cashmere shawl was gone. He wanted it back. He questioned the family and Mom said he could have it back if he gave me my statue. Mom has been hanging onto that shawl as a kind of collateral for the statue.

I said to the scumcle "I will not talk about that now" He persisted. I said "Do not talk about that now." he persisted. I said "Stop talking!" He went bla bla bla... I looked around, realized how much more horrible the day would be if I punched him (I could have pounded him right into mom's tile floor I just wanted him to stop talking) like I wanted to and I said "I am walking away, I will not talk to you" He followed me talking! I said "Go away from me, Do not talk to me" "Stop talking to me" and he followed me around the house talking about the fucking god damned shawl, which to tell you the truth internet, I did not even know or care where it was. I was trying to walk toward little sis who would have protected me, but she had at that exact moment hidden herself in dad's bathroom to do some bathroom business and had no idea what was going on. Luckily my cousin saw scumcle on my tail, grabbed my other cousin and my step sister to separate us and when I stepped out on the back porch he was not right behind me anymore. I am so deeply saddened and somewhat appalled by this. What could possibly be wrong with this man?

only thursday

Oh my goodness. I can not believe the wonderfulness of my parents friends. I am going home tomorrow humbled and in awe.

Dad is holding up pretty well. I am afraid of what happens when we leave. My (surprise!) step sister is staying until Sunday morning. Yup, another admission. I have two step sisters. They were both already out of the house when my parents got married so I never lived with them, so they didn't contribute to my current state of neurosis. (hahahhaha...just kidding)

Obviously I am over tired and getting giddy, also, lil sis and are are, well, let's just say that neither one of can drive a car right now.

Monday seems like a month ago. A very long month ago.

funeral today

Mom's funeral was today. When we met with the rabbi yesterday dad said that he wanted to say something during mom's service and he wanted lil and me to say something too.

It is unusual for such close family members to speak because it is such an emotional experience and family members can rarely hold it together. Dad wrote and wrote all evening long but in the end he decided that he couldn't go through with it. But he still wanted me and lil sis to say something.

Here is what I said (minus the parts that I ad-libbed and didn't write down)

I've spent so much of the last two days asking myself "How do I sum up mom? How do I quantify my mom?" and "Is there one property or one single story that embodies mom?"

And the answer is NO. Obviously. Mom was as multidimensional as every beautiful loving person in this room.

But, you know, I had ideas. I had several ideas. I thought about telling you about the time when I was 5 and my friend from the building was over, and we were sitting in the kitchen with mom and mom was just cracking us up. I don't remember what she was saying or doing but we were hysterical laughing. It was pure happiness.

I leaned back in my chair and thought to my 5 year old self "My mom is the funniest most fun mom in the world!" And what a wonderful warm feeling of tranquility came over me. We laughed with mom all the time, and I hope you did too.

I also thought how maybe I should remind all of you what a fighter mom was. Mom was tough. After all of her surgeries she fought her way right back to norma. Mom had carpal tunnel surgery in both hands, carotid artery surgery, back surgery and two major abdominal surgeries in the last two years. YET... you would never know it. Mom was unstoppable. Mom was a force to be reckoned with.

But I don't want to talk about that either.

What I want to tell you about is mom's advice to me when I was a young hormonal, sulking teenager.

One day mom confronted my abyssmal teenaged attitude. And this is what she told me.

Mom said "Last night I walked into a restaurant and every head turned to look at me. DO you know why?" And naturally being a teenager, I either didn't know or I had nothing nice to say, so I told mom NO and then mom said "I walk into a room like I own the place. I might not be the prettiest one there, or have the fanciest clothes, but I put my chin up and my shoulders back and I walk through a door like I am royalty."

And then I shut my teenaged mouth because I knew it was true.

So from now on when I think about mom I will choose to picture her dressed to the nines, (you know that is mom!) walking into the room, or the party or even the back yard, head held high and proud with all the confidence in the world, just like the happy, laughing, dynamic, warrior she was in real life.

Thank you.

tomorrow will be bad

Funeral is tomorrow. We dread it. We can't believe it is true.

We are very tired. We are drained. We have had little sleep. We have had much emotion. We are afraid of "taking something."

We are utterly and completely overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of our parent's friends and neighbors.

mom died

Mom died this morning. I thought we had a little more time.

Just a little bit.

I really wanted her to spend a couple of weeks with us in utopia this summer.

I wanted her to love it too.

I am so incredibly thankful that we went down to see her last week.

I am leaving for Florida for the funeral.

to my daddy

Here is something you do not know about my dad. He is not my biological dad. Technically he is my step dad. Here is how he came to be my step dad. When I was three it became clear to my mom that she had to kick my no-good biological father out. He wouldn't stop sleeping with his assistant. It might have been worse than that, because scumcle told me once that he had other additional suspicions, but they have not been confirmed by mom, who does not speak of the past.

So my mom was single for a year, and scraping by with much help ($) from the grandparents when grandpa sat mom down and told her she had to get on with her life and he sent mom and her girlfriend on a vacation to Puerto Rico. During that vacation mom's friend got too much sun or something and did not want to go down for dinner one night, so mom went down to dinner all by herself. When mom sauntered into the nicest restaurant in the hotel unescorted the maitre d asked her if she would like to see if his friend who was hosting a party would invite mom to their table. Mom said that was fine, and the friend throwing the party was dad. Back then dad was a big shot around the hotel. Now, when I was a kid and dad told me this story he said he took one look at mom and knew he was the looking at the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. As an adult I heard the truth which was way less romantic, and went something like, dad's friend liked mom but mom didn't like him but kept hanging out with dad's group and eventually dad and mom got together.

But once they came home and started dating mom fell for dad fast and hard. At the time I was 4 and lil sis was 2, so mom figured it was all going to be too good to be true and early on after one of their dates she brought dad home so he could see the package deal that mom, with two little kids, was. Mom figured she would rather scare him off sooner rather than later and avoid the whole broken heart thing. Now, here comes the part where you get to fall in love with dad too. Mom and dad come back to our apartment, they send the baby sitter home and mom leads dad over to the bedroom where lil sis and I are fast asleep and she opens the door for him to see us. He says nothing for the longest time and mom can't tell what dad is thinking, but then she sees a tear run down his cheek and she asks him what he is thinking and dad says that he can't imagine how any man could walk away from us.

I know, I know. I'm crying so hard I can hardly see the key board through the tears and I know how it turns out!

Anyway, mom and dad fall in love fall in love, birthdays get really good around our apartment because dad is in the board of directors of a stuffed animal company! He was like a knight in shining armor coming to rescue the three of us. He was nice and kind and fun and full of love for all of us. Also, even as a kid I recognized how happy mom was because this guy was in her life. Before dad ever proposed to mom I proposed to him. I'll never forget taking him aside, taking his hands, and asking him to marry mom. I don't remember what he said but it was reassuring and I remember him giving me a big smile right back. I knew he was going to ask her and I couldn't have been happier.

They got married right after my seventh birthday. Right before the wedding I asked him if I could call him dad. He was so flattered and said that I could. But we had been calling him by his name for 3 years by then so when ever we called him by his name he'd say "who?" until we made the transition. On the day of their wedding we all piled into a taxi to go to the temple for their small family only ceremony and I was so excited that I told the cab driver "My mom and dad are getting married today!" I hear the look that the cabbie shot dad could have melted steel.

So, dad, who was not allowed to adopt us by my bio-father even though bio guy had little interest in being our father, became our father by actions and not by biology or by name. And for my whole life from age 7 on dad was simply my dad. Dad did all the dad things. And I never thought of him as anything other than or less than or different than "My Dad."

When I turned 18 I changed my last name so we could have the same name. Lil sis did the same when she turned 18. Dad came to birthday parties, school conferences, and graduations, dad drove me to college, and dad walked me down the aisle. When I needed job advice I went to dad. Dad is the grandfather to my kids.

So my heart is with my dad today because he was my dad, and a fine dad too, when really, being my dad was optional. Happy fathers day dad, you are the best.

not looking good for Louise

I was going to name this post "it's curtains for Louise" but I thought that maybe that was too confident. Here is the deal. Back when I dragged myself to the chiro after the fever broke over a week ago he said I was testing positive for bacteria that responded to goldenseal. Now, I believe in the magical wonder of the herbs as much as the next lefty flake out there but aI cannot for the life of me figure out how people realized they worked in the first place because if I was the primitive person who came across a field of goldenseal and tasted it I would have totally blown the "keep looking" horn or made the "this stuff sucks" grunt and sent my clan on to keep looking because YECH!

But I did take the goldenseal in capsule form. People, even the capsule stink. But I my tumy hasn't been right since getting sick either, and after the sushi puking incident, which also involved a handful of supplements, I haven't had the stomach to take any supplements.

But then Louise was killing me, and I thought let me try to gargle with the nastiness that is goldenseal and see what happens. And I gargled once, nothing happened, gargled later and took a couple of goldenseal pills, louise went down a little, so I repeated that one more time last night and this morning Louise is suspiciously quiet. She's still there all right, but she has trimmed down a bit and she doesn't hurt.

I hope I am not jinxing myself here, but I think Louise and I might be parting ways soon, but not soon enough for me.

praying

I have been saying the serenity prayer a lot lately. It goes like this:

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

When I say it to myself I try to emphasize the accepting of the things that I cannot change part. That wisdom in the fourth line is crucial too. They pretty much go hand in hand. Serenity & wisdom, I am trying. Some days are easier than others.

Grandma is having increasing difficulty keeping up her end of a conversation. She can't remember the names of items (she called an umbrella a fan today) and she says things that come out of the blue and are totally out of context. Today she said something about "following the plan." I asked what plan and she got embarrassed and admitted she was confused.

I made my mom cry. I saw this guy who is dying of cancer on Oprah and he knew exactly how is gong to die and he had plans for every step of the way. I realized that mom and dad should have plans too. Then at least I (or we- whatever) can help them get the kind of end they want. So I called my mom and I tried to be gentle. Except my mom said she had placed all her eggs in the basket of her current chemo and wasn't thinking she was going anywhere soon. And I told her that this is the kind of thing she needs to plan now before she needs it (though in my mind not that far before she needs it) and she tried to say dad wouldn't talk about it and I told her to tell dad she had to do it to get me off of her back and she started to cry and told me that she knew she was in denial. No kidding. Then lil sis told me that I was too harsh with mom and it was only natural for her not to be wanting to go there.

God grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

unusually

Last week when I went to good doc he did a strep test and a throat culture. He called me the next day and told me the strep test came back negative. My 3 day fever had broken by then anyway so I wasn't incredibly worried. Then the kids and me and Louise, my humongous lymph node, hoped on the plane and went to Florida where we hung around with my immune compromised parents, my 7 month old nephew and the rest of lil sis's family. When I came home I visited grandma, of course, and also my editor at her home and photographed her brand spanking new 2 week old very first grand daughter. And not only did I photograph her, I also shared some of my extensive baby soothing abilities with the father of that delectable new baby and held her teeny tiny little defenseless body as I very expertly rocked her gently off to sleep.

Then the next day good doc calls and says with some hesitation, "So, uh, how are you feeling?" And I tell him I feel pretty good except that Louise is hurting me and she has most definitely worn out her welcome. And the good doc tells me my throat culture came back and , chuckle, it seems that I was harboring a very "unusual" and "rarely seen" form of strep bacteria. And I almost faint thinking about how many people I could have made sick in the past week. But the good doc thinks that once the fever was gone I was unlikely to have been contagious. Then I start wondering how bad it really it is since good doc, who normally is very up front with test results did not email me the results or mention the exact name of the very unusual strep I was afflicted with. And now I wondering if Louise is somehow strep induced and kind of want to go against all my own personal anti western medicine tendencies and hook up my own home made antibiotic IV. I figure if I hug my legs and rock and forth chanting "get out of me get out of me" while waiting for the antibiotics to take effect it would pretty much mean that I look like the loon that I am going to become if Louise does not resolve herself in the next 20 or so minutes give or take 12 seconds on either side. Also, I am pretty much convinced that what ever Louise is she is deadly and I have to call the lawyer and change around my will. The internet can be such a dangerous place for a hypochondriac like me.

sad tongue

Still feeling overwhelmed at the realization that I had mentally prepared myself for the worst when I went down to Florida to see my folks and instead of being pleasantly surprised by something or even anything, I pretty much experienced what I had prepared myself for. Even lil sis said to me our last night there that she didn't want to say it but that she didn't think mom was long for this world. I saw it too. I felt it too. It's like the life is just being drained right out of both my parents and they are just sticking their fingers in their ears and screaming LALALALALA and they keep prodding along, because that is what they do, do not let the neighbors know anything is wrong, except mom and dad are getting slower and slower and the distances are getting shorter and shorter. But they put on their best clothes, and slap on a brave smile and they keep pretending like it's not all that bad or scary or breathing down their necks. I dunno know how they do that.

Mom did do something completely out of character though. She thanked me for taking such good care of grandma and then she tearfully thanked me for bringing the kids down to see her.

Went to see grandma today and the news is not good. She seems to have made a big step towards losing her ability to assign the right words to what she means. It broke my heart. She didn't want me to see how frustrated she was getting. But I did. It would have been obvious to anyone. I wish there was something I could do. I look around at the people who are only shells of the people they used to be and I fear grandma is headed in that direction. One of the aides told me that grandma tries to punch her when she has to bath grandma each morning. Also, she said that grandma had slapped the hair dresser lady when she washed grandma's hair. If grandma keeps this up I am going to have to go to battle because I know the nursing home (that I love so much, the people are so gentle and kind there- please don't fuck this up grandma!) will want to sedate her and then she'll be one of those wheel chair recliner veggie people. So after a very nice visit, where I made grandma a photo album of all 6 of grandma's great grand children from our trip, I told grandma she had to be nice and she couldn't hit the aides and grandma was appalled that I would say she ever hit anyone and got mad at me and wouldn't kiss me goodbye because I waved my finger at her and told her "No hitting!" So I kissed her and left because I was late to pick up the kids and I didn't have the time or the energy or the emotional resources to get back on her good side and I figure she won't remember she is mad at me for more than 20 seconds.

When I went to get acupuncture tonight the needle guy after looking at my tongue and my pulses and my astrology charts and how thick my wallet is (kidding on those last two) said something was amiss and it could mean a couple of things one of which was that I was deeply sad. And I was like b-i-n-g-o look no farther.

vacation album posting from home

I can't believe I drove this monster. I can't believe I did not run other drivers off of the road while driving the mammoth. What a stupid car!

Matt wants his baby cousin to call him Uncle Matt. Matt can't wait to grow up.

Evan aka: Marty Feldman

Relaxing in my mom's pool.

Overcoming his fear and actually feeding a giraffe a little very expensive cracker.

Me and the rents. Mom has aged 15 years since diagnosis. She looks like crap for mom. It makes me sad.

Uncle Matt=awesome babysitter! Hello hot tub!

I had the best seat mates ever for the plane ride home. Nobody!

vacation report from home sweet home

Here is the deal I mentioned with the rental vehicle.

Before I left the husband went on line to rent my rental car and he said "Hey about renting a Hummer!" and naturally Evan was right there over the husband's shoulder drooling all over the laptop and I had to say "Okay" because the offer was already on the table and I didn't want to be the party pooper. After a fine flight we made our way to the rental center, signed all the paper work and was told which spot our vehicle was in. WHen we first walked up to it I almost cried. Probably the only reason I did not cry was because the mammoth was parked in a spot that was clearly marked COMPACT CARS ONLY and I was distracted by the idiocy of that thought. But the truth is that I was afraid of the mammoth and it was way bigger than I ever imagined it would actually be and the sheer width and height of it makes my truck seem like a scooter. I was (this is the under exaggeration of the year) a wee bit reluctant and (scared outta my mind) nervous as I drove off of the lot, but the airport put us right onto the highway and the hotel was right off the highway and I remembered the hotel having valet parking, so I talked myself off of the ledge. I was just starting to relax a teeny tiny bit. My shoulders lowered from my ears and I took a full breath. And just as we were puttering along in the nice slow right lane a door (yes, a big old door!) flew out of the back of the pick up truck we were trailing and went about 25 feet in the air flipped top over bottom twice and came crashing back down sliding sideways across the highway. I yelled "FUCK!!" and almost slammed on my brakes thinking we would be driving right into the path of the door on it's way down, but the door was such dead weight (as opposed to the more typical flighty corrugated cardboard or lofty plastic grocery bag one is more likely to see floating around over the highway) that it fell straight down right behind the truck, and naturally, because I am such a safe (and frustrating to those with testosterone) driver, I had been driving with the recommended 6 car lengths between me and the carelessly loaded pick up truck and was still safely distant enough to avoid being decapitated by a flying door.

You might say I was happy as can be to arrive at our hotel in one piece.

Here are some photo highlights of the trip. The baby is my new nephlet, who is as sweet as an be and we all fought over who got to hold him all day long. So cute.

Never mind. The internet spirits are making me wait too long to post these photos, so I am going to bed. You'll have to settle for the story for now. Sorry!

I wanna go home

You know how in that split second before you puke you pray the last thing you ate will come up gentler than some spicy chili or you hope you chewed real well? Me too. And if anyone wants the long version on sushi reappearing drop me an email.

So. Its our last night in Florida and puking in a hotel toilet is way worse than puking in your own personal lou. Hopefully you dear reader will be able up trust me on this one and not ever know for yourself. I knew my tummy was still not right after being sick last week! Geez, my neck glands are still swollen Im thinking about naming them too. How about Louise? I think it fits for a lymph gland. Don't you?

Louise hurts so much I am tempted to stab her with a screwdriver just to drain the swelling.

home is where the heart is

I am so filled with love for my kids the past couple of days.

So with the three of them sitting down at the table for dinner last night I said "Let's talk about how much I just love you so much I can't believe it right now I am about to burst." And they all three froze forks in mid air. And then their eyes began to dart back and forth. Me, a brother, me, a brother, me, brother and so on. I just stood there smiling sweetly and letting them bask in the warmth of my loving ,mother rays. It was Matt who spoke first. He said "Uh mom, do you need us to do something for you?" and I replied "No, darling, I just want you to know how I feel." and he tried again "Mom, is there some kind of new diet you are putting us on?"

Feel the love.

laughing all the way home (and more)

I get this nice "Matt and me" time in the mornings since I don't wake Evan or Josh up until I return from dropping Matt off at school. And most every day I really savor the short time Matt and I have together in the car going to school. Today was one of those nice perfect savoring days. As a matter of fact, as we neared the school driveway I kind of even sighed in my own head thinking how delightful his company had been on my first morning back with the living. (I was SO sick people!!) The rain had stopped, my sun roof was open, the temp was perfect. Once in the school driveway, but not close enough to the entrance for me to actually give him the boot, Matt, announced, "I can't believe that Elton John would use such a word in such a common every day way in a song." The radio had been quietly playing in the background during this tender mother son bonding drive to school. I say "huh? What word?" and Matt says "Vaj-a-bond."

This is the part where I have to split things up into two distinct categories. "WIS" is What I Said and "WWGOIMH" is What Was Going On In My Head.. Okay? Fasten your seat belts. Here we go.....

WIS: How could Elton what?

WWGOIMH: Elton, how could you get so Disney?!

WIS: Oh, you....

WWGOIMH: Vaj? Why did he say it so wrong?

WIS: mean vagabond, that's what you call a....

WWGOIMH: Oh, he read it off the satellite radio player. How cute.

WIS: homeless, wandering.....

WWGOIMH: Vaj. Badge. Madge. Oh, I remember when I loved Madonna.

WIS: person..... you say it vag-a-bond.

WWGOIMH: Vaj? Hey..... that sounds like vaj from vagina! !!!!!!!!!!!! Wait a minute!

WIS: Matt, what did you think it means?

WWGOIMH: Matt=15=horny boy=everything sexual

WIS: ma... (stifle laughter) ma.... (stifle laughter) Matt!

WWGOIMH: He thought Elton was singing about Vaginas!

(Just then I am close enough for Matt and his seriously red cheeks to make a run for it before I fully explode into fits of laughter and Matt seizes the opportunity. He dives for the door handle. I choke back the guffaws. He slams the door. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks. But Matt forgot his umbrella! He shoots me the "Mom! Don't scar me for life look, and reaches for the door, when I .....)

WIS: BWAH HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I then proceeded to laugh myself silly driving down the eternal HS driveway (sun roof open- everyone hears).

I laughed all the way home. I almost had to pull over on the side of the road I was tearing/shaking/laughing so much. I had giggle fits all day long just whispering to myself "vaj-a-bond".

In the meantime have come up with some....

Suggested uses for Vaj-a-bond:

1. Make sure your daughter returns from that date a virgin! Try Vaj-a-bond!
2. Tough time delivering that 10 pound kid? Try Vaj-a-bond!
3. Pre-term labor? No Problem! Try Vaj-a-bond!
4. Undies won't stay up? No Problem! Try Vaj-a-bond!

Maybe you have some ideas too!

still home being sick-weight loss update on the bottom

OMG people, I can not believe how sick I am! The good news right this second is that my eyes can actually focua on and read the screen as I type this. First time screen has been in focus since last Saturday!

Here's how worse illness in 5 years (since the pneumonia where I ended up hospitalized) went down. Last week I had a post nasal drip, then a sore throat, and then some seriously swollen glands. I wondered why I felt so weak and tired on Saturday. But on Sunday I woke up feeling really off. My soy-berry detox diet smoothie made me nauseous. I ran to the grocery store to buy lunch and dinner supplies and needed a sweatshirt to go out the door. t was 78 degrees.

I made it home, took my temp, 101.3 and took to my bed. I didn't even unpack all the groceries. Eventually the fever went up to 102 and then I got to have the click family routine fight with the husband that goes like this.

Husband : You must take something to reduce the fever
Me: The fever is what destroys what is making me sick! I don't want to take a fever reducer!

Repeat over and over again until someone who is not lying in bed with a fever gets so frustrated that he throws a pillow and storms out of the room and then I end up taking the fever reducer anyway because my fever goes up to 103.5 and my swollen neck glands hurt so much I wanted to make that pain stop. Then I sweat buckets for the next three hours because that is what the fever reducer does to me when the fever is being reduced. And then I lie about taking more fever reducer before I go to sleep because I would rather huddle under the blankets and shiver all night then sweat buckets all night.

But Monday my fever ran around 101.5 which was completely tolerable. I still slept off and on (mostly on) all day long. My neck glands were killing me. Pretty much, with the exception of my whole foods outing I end up sleeping for about 60 hours from Saturday night to Tuesday morning.

Are you still with me here? Dang, I almost put myself to sleep. So readers digest: Sweaty crazy fever dreams with large horned bucks, wild cats, bull mastifs, pugs, and long never ending winding trails, wake up just a teensy fever still nauseous neck pain 9.6 on the 1 to 10 scale. Call good doc. Tell his machine he has to see me. He calls back and tels me to go in a ten. The husband drives me over and the good tells him that fever reducer is OPTIONAL! And that here is a benefit to not taking fever reducer since fever is how an immune system destroys an invader. Ah. Sweet Sweet Victory.

Doc declares I will likely be myself in another day or two, thinks what I have is viral, but swabs my throat for a couple of tests anyway, and I don't have strep and won't know what the other swab finds for a couple of days. In th ecar on the way home I realize I don't feel as bad as I did when I woke up and stop at WF for refried beans and avocado. I already have the corn tortillas, lettuce and salsa at home. My favorite detox lunch) But when I get home I need to lie down and I crash for 2 solid hours. When I wake up I eat the bean soft taco thingy (or three) and that is the first thing that I have had (except for a couple of pieces of fruit) since that berry smoothie Sunday AM.

Now everyone knows that getting sick and not eating for two days is kind of cheating when you have told the internet that you are going to do a weekly weigh in, but I was heading in this successful direction anyway so here is the weigh in after 1 week of detox including 2 days of illness....... ta daa..... ELEVEN POUNDS. Do you know what that means people? Yes it means I must be seriously dehydrated, I recognize that, but still, 11! I can't believe it. But I am happy to see it! Or not see it anymore! Goodbye to you.

shoulda sent them home

Wildmom threw a big BBQ the night of the Eagles concert and since a wildmom party is fun for the whole the whole family I let my guys stay for a little while and walk home themselves after the husband I had to leave for the concert.

The next morning at breakfast Evan mentioned to me that Matt had been the center of attention for a while after we had left. It seems that one of the older kids challenged Matt to make a drawing, which he did. And the kids loved it so much that someone ran home and made copies to distribute to the crowd. Then Evan said that what Matt was drawing was "An emo spongebob on a dildo-saurus."

Yup, I was speechless too.

Then I managed to squeeze out " a what?"

And Evan said that word again. Then I asked I asked Evan what a dildo-saurus is and Evan said it is "Like a big hot dog with 18 legs."

Then Evan ran upstairs to get some copies of the signed by the artist G rated drawings Matt had made. They were benign. But they are not the one I am living in fear that some other parent unfolds when cleaning out pants pockets while doing laundry this week.

When big brother Matt rolled out of bed a couple of hours later I casually mentioned that I heard he was drawing for the crowd the night before. He turned 18 shades of red. Then he heard one of my famous speeches. Matt admitting to having a copy of the worst drawing, but because of the fever I have not been able to sift through his room for my own personal horrifying peek.

So far the phone has been eerily silent.

home sick

Sick. Really sick. The rest of the home can fall away but as long as my bed remains (well ... walls are helpful too) I couldn't care less. I would warn the family to get out should this happen. But right now, with this raging fever, my king sized bed is the only home/island/oasis I need. I am clinging to it. Especially when the chills it. Already called good doc and and wil be seeing him and his goodness sometime tomorrow. Biggest fear: pneumonia. Hopefully it's something viral that will pass. 24 hours sounds appealing as I would be 3/4 of the way there.

Can't focus the eyes now, so I am turning in for what I am quite sure will be not a pleasant night's sleep. Night.

time

We went to see grandma today and the kids were busy with each other. Grandma can't really hear unless she is half lip reading and you are talking directly to her and keeping it s.l.o.w. so she was just watching them. I asked them to please try to engage grandma.

Josh leaned in nice and close to grandma and said "So, uh, what are you in for?"

I was very happy when we left because grandma did not want to go to bed for a change (she was probably too hopped up on sugar- yup, we took her for ice cream again) so I put her in front of the television. But as we left I saw her scooting her wheelchair across the room to where there was a group of old ladies gathered around and chatting. Grandma is not usually so social. It was a good thing.

Also, I am going to the Eagles concert tonight at Madison Square Garden!! Woo Hoo!!! Yay husband and his ticket scalper! And I am going to know every single word of every pre-year 2000 song! Watch me sing-a-long! Woo Hoo!

Hhhhhello

Okay, here comes the post about the detox.

Are you still with me? Wow, I am impressed by your dedication.

When I went to good doc last fall and told him how crappy I felt and he started running tests he also recommended that I read Ultra-Metabolism by Mark Hyman MD. Good doc said that it was the diet that he lived by. Which pretty impressed me since good doc is a fit and trim older than me guy and also judging by the photo on his shelf in his office his wife is quite the fox. I'd like to be a fox too. So I bought the book. And it sat there gathering dust on my shelf for a few months. But I had mentioned it to Bubbles. And in February when it was my birthday and the book was good and dusty on my shelf Bubbles, who did not know that I had already bought the book, only remembered that good doc had recommended the book to me, gave me another copy of the book. Wow, I was totally guilt ridden. So I started to read the book that Bubbles gave me and gave the dusty one away.

And I told myself that I was going to read all the background and then understand the reasoning behind the diet and then do the diet. Which was a great idea. Add then I read the book painfully slow. But the first 200 or so pages is all about why we end up fat and all the imbalances and toxic causes of a slowed metabolism and I pretty much read the book and shouted "OMG that is SO ME!" all the way through. Because now that I have had every single bodily fluid and bio hazardous waste of mine examined and I know how many alarming issues I am harboring I can confidently say that I am chemically messed up. And this program claims it can turn my metabolism around. And clean me up and restore my health, and polish the scrapes out of my bumper, ...oh wait, that was my dream last night.

Pretty much the diet part of the book is the same old Mediterranean Diet that every one is all worked up about these days. But the two week detox before the rest of the diet is where I am now. Today is day 4 for me. The one huge draw back I am finding is that every meal and the two snacks a day all require some serious in the kitchen time. I don't normally do kitchen time for lunch and snacks. (Because why cook when I can simply unwrap?) And also, waiting a whole hour to cook some brown rice for breakfast is pushing it for my somewhat crazed morning routine. But I am doing it. And that is what counts. And truthfully, there isn't a drastic difference yet (so impatient grasshopper) except that I am less bloated (not sure anyone else can tell). I have no energy at all but who knows if that is stress related (1 more day to finish cleaning out grandma's apartment) or health related. I should be having a nice yeast die off right about now. That could make me feel poorly. Also, if all those heavy metals are on their way out that could drag me down too. Or I could have my own personal stressful life and then get rear ended by some Mario Andretti who thinks he can drive 50 MPH in a parking lot and ..... never mind. You get the idea.

But the upside of this diet is that the weight is melting off already. I am sure much of it is water weight (hence the less bloated feeling) since yesterday, on day 3, I dashed off to the bathroom about every 45 minutes. I hope all that pee contained arsenic! The food is palatable though (with the exception of the banana soy smoothie that made me nauseous for a good hour and a half this morning-never eating that again!) and the kids are even eating and enjoying some of the dinner dishes. Some of the dinners are vegetarian and I have to make an additional meat for the boys because around here if no animal has been sacrificed then it doesn't actually count as a real meal. Maybe a snack. And they want their meals real at meal time.

And as far as appetite is concerned I have none. It's nothing short of a miracle. Or maybe the stench of my own breath. I think that the reason I have no appetite is that everything except breakfast is heavy on garlic, onions and herbs and right about now I am smelling like a garlic flavored gum chewing middle eastern restaurant cook after a long night's work. How's that for foxy?! Hhhhhhhey Hhhhhandsoooohhmme. I am hoping that after a week I can hop on the scale and see Biggest Loser type results, (with less than 4 hours a day in the gym) and if the first 4 days are an indication of things to come, then I am going to be very happy next Tuesday! As far as I am concerned, water counts. And if trim (FOXY) has to equal stinky then let it be so. Bring on the garlic. I figure I will get used to it.

So that is my exciting detox news. I will have the second set of follow up blood tests in June, so hopefully something good will be the result.

crying

The salvation Army came to day to pick up the bulk of grandma's stuff. I was sad, and sitting around in the apartment that grandma is not healthy and strong enough to live in anymore waiting for them was so painful that I took a nap on what is now a for sale at a Salvation Army somewhere in the garden state very comfortable sofa. It was a good sofa. Have I told you about it? Back in the old days when grandma was a mere 88 years old her then sofa's cushions turned to cement. At the time her old sofa was already almost 40 years old. So lil sis and I called my mother and scumcle and told them that grandma needed a new sofa. And they told us that 88 year olds do not get new furniture. And lil sis and I looked at each other and we knew that we couldn't just leave that cement for cushions sofa in grandma's apartment so we took grandma to a sofa store and bought her a new sofa and a new recliner too because her old one was getting pretty darned ratty. It was a fun day because Evan was 2, Matt was 6 and my little nephew was a crawling baby all over the store and we were quite the kiddie circus in there trying to explain to the sales guy that an 88 year old can not wait 10 weeks for delivery! We told ourselves that if grandma had a nice soft comfortable sofa for even 6 months that it would have been worth the price. Ha! That was 8 years ago!

We were so right about that one.

Anyway, giving all of grandma's stuff away was just too hard for me. It's like closing the door on grandma. It's like I am really giving up on her. It's like admitting that she is never going to wake up one day determined to walk again and start pacing the hallways and getting stronger and be able to go back to the OFH. Because the OFH was so much better than I realized when she was there. And I secretly hoped that she would wake up one day and decide to be strong again and work her way back to walking around. But then yesterday the nurse at the nursing home told me that grandma's disorientation was serious and that grandma would scoot her wheelchair into any old room and go to sleep on any old bed. Which I totally believe since when I got there I found grandma sitting all alone in some other person's room. She was probably psyching herself up to make the transfer from chair to bed.

Once the guys came it wasn't so bad, because at least then I had someone to talk to. Also, the younger (cuter) of the two Salvation Army guys was totally flirting with me and I ate it up. Actually I totally needed it and I got down on my knees and begged for more. No I didn't! But I did play along, shamelessly. Come on now! You know you would too! He was shocked (!) that I have three kids! He couldn't believe my real age! For real! And he was all smiley and nice. Just what the doctor ordered.

But then sweet flirty flattering guy drove off with the grumpy salvation army guy and I was all alone (ALONE) driving my way to the middle school to hand in forms where my sweet baby Evan is going next year (OMG he is growing up too faaaast!) and I had this overwhelming urge to pick all my kids up from their respective schools and get them to hug me. Simultaneously. And then maybe I wouldn't collapse to the ground like I felt like I might. I started to cry. I really just needed to see my reasons for being brave, standing up straight and carrying on but they had 2 more hours of school to go. I would have to wait.

Also, you should know that I cried in the diner last weekend when the waiter brought my eggs to me and the cook had put some toast (glutenous enemy of mine) on them. I'm fragile these days. On a scale of 1 to 10 I'd say that emotionally I am running about 14.7. Maybe a little higher.

By the time I was on my way home from the grocery store (my next stop) I was completely distracted by imagining what kind of politically correct thing a cop could say to the muslim woman I saw driving with her cell phone tucked securely half way into her hijab. I mean technically, that did make her cell phone hands free, but it was still a cell phone on her ear. I gave this much thought.

I also want to tell you about the detox I am doing (day 3 and still fat!!) and also, I know I have to write that letter I said I wanted to write to scumcle. I am going to mail scumcle a package of stuff like grandma's golf trophy from 1967. Also, his diplomas and some other funky crap. You know just in case he is sitting around remembering that it all exists. I am going to tell him how out of line he was accusing me of stealing some earrings. Maybe I will work on these things this weekend. See folks! I am giving you something to look forward to!

game

Let's play a little game. The game is called "Make a list of the last things clickmom needs!" Okay.... GO!

Now, how many of you put car accident on that list?

Wow, you guys are good! So here is my day in a nut shell-

1. Wake feeling quite sure I must be thin after an industrious 24 hours of detox diet. WHoops! It's gonna take more than a day!
2. Posh Club for super hard workout. (Go me! Go (away) my fat!)
3. Blissful cranial sacral therapy for myriad of skeletal issues.
4. Happy visit with grandma where I wheeled her to an ice cream shop and got her a sundae.

Sounds good right?

5. Leave nursing home just in time to run into grocery store for missing dinner ingredient before school pick up.
6. Pull backwards out of parking space and get rear ended by some little speed demon maybe trying to
a. reach 50mph into the parking lot and
b. could have possibly (judging by the angle of his car after impact) been trying to speed past behind my truck as I pulled out of the spot.

After the jolt and the crash I was so angry I was shaking. And the guy WHO HIT ME was throwing his arms up in the air like it was my fault! So I dialed 911 and the cops were there in about 2 minutes, so I guess they weren't all ticketing unseat belted drivers today, and he took our info and a brief statement from each of us, sat in his bar lined crook containment car filling out forms, came back and told us to call the station in 5 to 8 business days for the report. And then he looked at me and asked me if I had any questions and I asked him if there was fault assigned in his report (because I will be damned if I am going to pay for this guy's damage!) and he said "I haven't decided yet." And folks, I managed to restrain myself, you would have been so proud. And I didn't tell the youngster cop, (yes I could have been his youthful mother) to stop chewing gum like a pig or people were going to start making pig jokes, or that if he keeps up the tanning he's going to look like a leather chair by the time he is my age, or even what dreamy big green eyes he had, I just said okay and got into my truck and counted to a zillion waiting for him to move his vehicle out of my way so that I could go pick up the kiddies from school.

And now I am sore. In more ways than one.

shopped

This is totally the best shirt summer I have lived through for a while. I mean this summer is even better than the tunic summer. I can't even imagine a better shirt summer than this, unless everyone else was forced to gain 50 pounds or something. I mean, really, it's kind of hilarious (but in a good good very good way) that plain old women are all wearing maternity clothes with nice comfy loose floaty mid sections and all the preggers out there are wearing tight form fitting navel clinging tube tops. Yay for fashion! There is nothing that a double jelly rolled full figured gal like myself appreciates more than a slack roomy oversized and yet still in style shirt. I'm so happy I could just leap and prance about through a field of wild flowers with a crown of daisies in my hair. I got me some new shirts! Get the picture?

bloomfield

Grandma has been asking to go home lately. I can't bring myself to tell her she is permanently living at the nursing home now. I tell her she will go home as soon as she starts walking again even though I know she won't be walking around again. If she did somehow decide to get strong again one day I would totally send her back to the OFH. It looks better every single day. It's not that the nursing home is bad per se, it's just that some of the old people at the nursing home are kind of scary. Some of them are totally checked out and I don't like to see that for grandma or for myself. And the kids get a little freaked out seeing it too.

Mostly the care over there seems pretty good, though there is definitely a hierarchy of duties there that the people will and will not do. The lowest job on the hierarchy is assisting the bathroom. Today I walked in to see grandma being wheeled by the lunch lady over to the nurses station. The nurse doesn't do bathroom duty so she had to fetch an aide and poor grandma just sat in her chair softly saying saying "Help me, oh please won't someone help me." I was afraid to help her myself, I didn't know what to do, so I just watched. The whole wait was two minutes but it seemed forever. And witnessing grandma's pitiful cry for help didn't sit well with me.

They have some kind of laundry problem over there at the nursinghome and despite the fact that I have cleaned Sears out twice of their size 10 black polyester elastic waist pants every time I go over she is wearing someone else's clothes. Mostly she is wearing borrowed pants, but every once in a while she has on someone else's shirt, and sometimes, the shirts do not match grandma's wise with age level of sophistication. See example below:

Grandma still has her social graces about her. When she knows a picture is being taken she can smile with the best of them. It makes it a little easier to bear.

This week I face the always less than pleasant task of cleaning out grandma's apartment. Again. We are paid up on the rent until the end of the month and I have the salvation army coming on the 29th for her furniture, but I have to do another cleansing of the bric-a-brac. I figured what ever was left there was pretty much worthless since the scumcle and his witch of a wife had long ago absconded with anything of obvious monetary value. But then I was surprised to see the very same little ring holder she had on her dresser in a Waterford display at the department store. Now I wonder. I'd love to know if there are any stories behind the bowls and little statuettes. Are any of them from my great grandparents? Special anniversary gifts? Anything with a good story? I just don't know. I feel bad giving her history away. So I am going to pack it up and take it to an antique dealer and see what there is. I know the dealer won't be able to tell me the stories I imagine make these pieces worth while, but she will at least be able to tell me if the things are old and where they come from so I can guess for myself.

sharp

I am pretty bad at giving the kids chores and making them responsible for stuff around the house. Which really isn't working for me since I end up doing everything all alone and getting all resentful about it. The one chore I have been making Evan and Matt do themselves is packing their own stuff for trips. At first I gave them lists to refer to for packing thoroughness but somewhere along the line, I just gave the boys a whole lot of credit and started saying something vague like "pack for three days and two nights". How's that working for us? Yeah, uh... that's been what I have been asking myself these past couple of days.

You be the judge.

Three things Evan did pack for utopia:

1. the wood carving knife lil sis got him for hanukah
2. his swiss army knife
3. the fisherman's utility blade I found on the side of the street while walking the devil one day last April. I brought it home and gave it to Evan.

Three things Evan did not pack for utopia:

1. pajamas
2. socks
3. underwear

I'm thinking I might have to revert back to the detailed list method here.

made

me: (with lots of over dramatic frustration) Josh! I just made your bed!! Why are your blankets on the floor?!?! (Josh can't hear me. He is on the basement)

Evan: I'll make his bed.

In my head: ALARM BELLS

Me: Evan, how did Josh's bed get unmade 20 minutes after I made it?

Evan: (eyes wide with total fakery innocence) I have no idea but I would be happy to help out here.

In my head: I smell a rat.

So I call up Josh from the basement. I ask him why his blankets are on the floor.

Josh: its not my fault! Evan said I should put them on the floor so he could wrap himself up like a burrito.

Evan can not make eye contact with me. He tries to skink away but I offer his bed making expertise to Josh and Evan, despite his pleas of innocence, accepts his assignment and makes Josh's bed because he is Guilty and not because he is a easy going helpful kind of guy.

sing

Evan and Josh made up a song. There is one word in their song. They sang it high, low, loud and soft. The one and only word in their song is diarrhea.

We are in utopia. So that makes their song beautiful. As a matter of fact, I am going to encourage them to sing another round.....as soon as we leave the restaurant.

right?

Too chicken to write that letter today l but I will. Maybe after the weekend. I can't spoil a holiday weekend can I? Okay, maybe I will work up a rough draft over the weekend. Too bad it isn't letter month on NaBlo. What a letter! Really, I am working on it in my head (which I can do, a whole letters worth pre written and just waiting for my fingers to do the dancing.)

Took Josh and Ev to see the new Indiana Jones movie tonight. Harrison Ford is my type. Except unlike Callista I only the dig the version of him that is my age. Did you guys know that I am a total age-ist? I just hate having to take people younger than myself seriously and do not ever see older men sexually, except for some reason I can see older women sexually, maybe I am secretly an old gay woman! In the mean time we all know that I adore the really old folks and would mow down a class full of kindergardeners just to help an octogenarian across the street. And I just love to look at their old soft faces and try to see the young person inside.

Speaking of faces I saw Lonnie Anderson on tv and she is marrying some guy she dated when she was 17. Which is totally sweet, right? But Lonnie has fucked up her face and she had these nauseating dead fat slug lips and the rest was mostly frozen, plus the artificial bleached out hair helmet she has had since the 80's and I thought to myself that she must be in her mid 70's with all the totally obvious facial work going on but NO! She is in her late 50's. I was shocked. I can't wait until Hollywood figures out how scary they are starting to look. Also, am I right here? Does a lady (or effeminate man, because how girly is it for a man to have work done on his face? Are you listening Arnold? Sly?) look older than her actual years when she has very obviously had tons of face work done? Anyone notice how I keep specifying FACE? Anyone recalling my tummy tuck/breast reduction fantasy? Hey, I am the first to admit that I am checking in for my own plastic surgery as soon as I find myself weighing something normal again. But I am leaving my face alone. I draw the line at overpriced promising the world creams, lotions and potions. No knives (or needles) above the chin. That's my motto. At least for now.

Also, no hair cuts above the chin. Which brings me to another tid bit of information .... I got a haircut for the first time since September. Once, BTB (before the blog), I grew my hair real long and then chopped it off and donated it to locks of love. And I thought that maybe I would do it again before I got too gray. They don't want the kinky gray straws that I am rapidly sprouting, only the colored stuff. One day last fall grandma mentioned how long my hair was getting and I told her my plans. She was very worried and did not want me to cut off my hair. So grandma found something she could remember and every time I saw her she would check my hair and make sure it was still all there. So I decided I would not cut the ten inches off while she would still notice it. And I just didn't cut my hair all winter. And got real long. And it bugged the crap out of me. And every day I would get giant rats nest knots in the back and rip out hair trying to brush it. And the front parts would end up lying down either side of my neck covering my boobs like a big hot hair shawl. And worst off all everything I ate all day and other small objects would get caught in my long hair shawl/collar which laid across my breast shelf like the crumb magnet it was, and by the time I went to bed at night I cold pick through my hair for things like sushi rice, legos, spiders, pencil erasers, gluten free crackers, and other assorted house hold odds and ends. (Sorry didn't mean to turn you on like that...) Plus, as lil sis likes to point out, the longer my hair gets, the more the top of part of it tends to (cling like saran wrap to the top of my head) lie flat and that is a less than flattering look on my fat face. Tuesday I marched into my favorite hair dresser said "make it look healthy again" and walked out with about 4 inches less hair. Whew. What a relief. Then I went to see grandma and she did not even mention my hair, so I asked her if she liked my haircut and she said my hair was long and didn't look like it was just cut.

And oh yeah, about that phone call and follow up letter, I think I might actually have those earrings scumcle spoke of! Can't easily check because my safe is broken and unable to open. But here is the thing, if I do have them, I am pretty sure grandma gave them to me when I was still in High School which means pre-1982. But definitely before Matt was born because I haven't worn earrings in that long. I am still going to pretend that I have no idea what he is talking about. Cause I am pissed. I can't believe he is sitting around today remembering jewelry he last saw maybe 25 years ago and feeling the need to find it. And give to the ice queen. And lie that they actually belong to the ice queen and that she lent them to grandma and just now happens to want them back. As if!! I know... I know... it's all so sick. Crazy right?

Stay away from the botox. Okay?

bargain

Scumcle called me yesterday and pretty much accused me of taking a pair of pearl earrings from grandma. This is at least the third time in the 15 months since I assumed all financial, health care, and physical responsibility of grandma that he has suddenly recalled some article of jewelry or house hold bric a brac that he believes should be at grandma's apartment and has very accusingly asked me if I have taken it. Because he wants it.

Like there might be something he hasn't already plundered from her in the past 20 years.

Tomorrow, after I allow another full day for the anger to subside I plan on crafting a carefully written "fuck off" letter to him. I am so over the drama, the conflict, the insanity. I am shutting him out. I feel this is something I have to do for my own sanity. He is not healthy. His wife is worse. Deep down inside I am a very sad girl with a rapidly shrinking family. I want to put myself up for adoption.

needanewname

I hate my cable company. HATE THEM!! Because they sold out and now I have to change my email address. Which totally sucks. And worse even, I can't keep the redfrog part of it either. Some email name stealing person (and I have been using redfrog since I was 10 people!) already has MY name. I could cry. And I'm gonna shoot someone at the cable company! So I can get my email moniker back! Damn it!

My real name, (this is the girliest thing I will ever say, so prepare) sucks. I hate my real name. It isn't me. Never was. My mother chose it because she thought I needed a short first name because my original (long story) last name was long and she was worried about how many letters I would have to remember when the time came for me to learn to write! And my current last name, well my husband guilted me into changing to his name and the meanest mother I ever knew had this name, so I make all the kids call me by first name instead of Mrs. Mean Lady name. Besides, together, they are an incredibly typical combination and there are many others with this name combo ou