Friday, March 31, 2006

Stolen from Heather

Accent: I don't think I have one, but Southern implants in CO tell me I have a "northern-ish" accent - Grew up on the WA/OR border

Booze of Choice: Long Island Teas mmm

Chore I Hate: Laundry and Dishes are pretty equal in my hate chore scale. Not changing from this stolen response, b/c ITA!!

Dog or Cat: 1 Black Lab (dog ;) ) and 1 red-ear slider turtle who will probably out live Charlie Brown and me both! (He's 27..the turtle!)

Essential Electronics: Does a curling iron count? LOL...that, phones, music players (of any type) and computers

Favorite Perfume: Basic Instinct by Victoria's Secret - I just hope they never discontinue it!

Gold or Silver: I do both - it all depends on the style and whether there are other colors in the piece

Hometown: Kelso, WA - though my current city in CO is likely to be listed if we ever move - I've come of age here!

Insomnia: Not consistently, but yes

Job Title: Mom, Wife, Admin Specialist (i.e. "secretary" in everyone's mind) for municipal Human Services Office

Kids: LMNOB - girl (5), PunkinHead -Boy (2.5) and Charlie Brown (3o), heehee!

Living Arrangement: KB "carriage home" aka TOTAL STARTER home, in a new cookie-cutter subdivision -with dh and kids

Most Admired Trait: Awareness of others and self - I guess, "discernment?"

Number of Sexual Partners: Just 1!!!! Though, we "rushed" this and began far earlier than I like to admit.

Overnight Hospital Stays: 1 - biking related head injury, 2 - 2 nights birthing and recovery of LMNOB, 3 - 3? nights birthing and recovery with Punkin Head - my water broke in early evening, and he didn't come out til early morning 2 dates later!

Phobia: I dont know if it's classifiable as a phobia... but I am very squeamish and freaked out by dental related things. Loose teeth, willies central - guess Charlie Brown will be pulling the stubborn teeth for our kids!

Quote: Well, I am a quotes junkie, indicated here, but one of my FAVORITES comes from the Word - Romans 12:2 -Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will I haven't gotten here yet but long for the day!

Religion: Christian

Siblings: 2 brothers, 1 sister, and 2 other brothers I don't know much

Time I Wake Up: 6:00-ish

Unusual Talent/Skill: I sing, but that's not so unusual....hmmm, I won several spelling bees as a child, and people at work trust me more than spell-check? (AGAIN, I am ANAL about spelling, noted in my intro, but am not the best typer, so it may not always appear that way)

Vegetable I Refuse To Eat: Hmmm....I dunno. I'm a try anything once kind of gal, and there isn't a veggie I've tried that I've sworn off.

Worst Habit: Yelling

X-rays: Pinkie, ribs, 2-3 on Ankles - so 4-5?

Yummy Foods I Make: Chicken enchiladas, Peachy Pork Chops, chocolate chip zucchini cake, whole wheat banana-craisin bread....I LOVE to cook and do it quite well, no matter the dish- or so I'm told!

Zodiac Sign: I am a Taurus - I believe there is something to be said for the stars signifying some things, a la the birth of Christ, etc, however, I don't think one can base their life off astrology...I believe in free will, versus the predestination that the aligning of the stars would allow for. I DO have to say that the character traits of the signs *have* been dead on in my experience.

TGIF 3/31/2006

Iiiit's FRIDAY!!! And a beautiful Friday morning in Colorado - sunny blue skies with fluffy white clouds. So enchanted by the morning, I was motivated to get out immediately after breakfasting and do the very strenuous Mommy WorkOut.

To Perform: place two children totalling approximately 70 lbs in a traditional Radio Flyer wagon. Pull load behind your Mommy-self, while trekking varied neighborhood terrain at a brisk pace for at least 1 mile.

In my case, we went up and down hills on the paved neighborhood trails for about 1.25 miles, the last .25 being a continually steady uphill grade, which had me sweating like a hog and breathing like an asthmatic. During our outing, I realized, my kids are pretty darned happy and well-adjusted! This in spite of my constant insecurity that the opposite is true. The basis for such an epiphany? The sounds I heard when I periodically focused enough to hear more than the wagon wheels noisily rolling along the pavement.

LMNOB sitting with Punkinhead, entertaining him with her heartsongs of the day:
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"I love my Mo-o-o-mmeee, we have fu-u-u-n, I love my Da-a-a-dd-ee-ee-ee, he's so stro-o--ong! My brudder and me have so much to do today-ay-ay....."
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I must be doing something right, eh?

So it's Friday...the rest of the day includes INTENSIVE house cleaning - we are a wreck right now! Scrapbooking crop night at my friend/day-care provider's home...bound to be fun, though I feel a smidge guilty b/c Charlie Brown had to be alone with the kids last night for my 2x/month evening meeting.

Tomorrow? We're off to the Denver Zoo with the kids, and ALL my IL's - parents and BIL's family, as my youngest neice and LMNOB both had March b'days and this was my MIL's travel compromise/gift for the kiddos.

Sunday is church...also Spring Forward. I'm looking forward to the extra daylight, but not losing that hour of sleep!

For now, I'm relishing it's still Friday for another 13+ hours :)

P.S. Yes, I am working on a post re: my day with LMNOB...I had it nearly complete when a misfortunate and erroneous deletion occured! We had a splendid time and so many memorable moments Wednesday, that I want to record it all, to look back and remember.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Organically fed, freshly shorn and ambivalently registered

Finally posted!
So, we had Mommy and LMNOB sittin' in a tree... day today. Not too much K-I-S-S-I-N-G, but a few showers of smooches made their way to her. She was so giddy today with the one on one attention. Definitely a must-encore tradition!

First, we dropped Punkinhead off at daycare. LMNOB made a big to-do out of it; when I prompted him for hugs and kisses, she followed suit, saying, "Give sissy kisses, PH." I about choked at the parroting she displayed there, but winked knowingly at our daycare provider instead.

Then, we stopped by Wild Oats to get Charlie Brown some lunch...he's been off to the gym first thing in the morning this week, and today he didn't get lunch fixed, knowing I was going to be around... We also picked up some tasty strawberries and organic granola...mmm.

We ate breakfast at home, on the patio - it was a gorgeous 70 degree day today, until the afternoon showers hit, but I knew that was going to happen - thanks to Kathy Sabine on last night's news. Then we goofed around with the camera some...I still haven't figured out the delay, and our "table tripod" is flat out worthless. So, if you see my arm extended, it's b/c I am snapping the shots and posing simultaneously.
This one probably turned out the best:
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Hee-hee, armlength photos are funny:
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Aww, a sweet little nuzzle
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After we played around, we got out the nail polish..and my footscrub, gel and lotion. LMNOB practically floated to cloud 9 at this point. I have to agree, the mint-eucalyptus treatment with a light breeze tickling the feet was VERY refreshing. Then, to rinse, we used the hose - bbrrrrr, but we had a great time, squealing and giggling like we were both 5 years old! Toes and fingers both got painted. I chose a dusty rose while LMNOB picked two different glitter polishes: one for fingers, one for toes - and it's all about sparkle right now!

Voila!
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Next we finalized cuts I was going to talk to the stylist about (my hair has a wave and it doesn't always work with every cut). LMNOB demonstrated a non-traditional view of beauty by consistently commenting that the more punk or goth models in the hair mag were "beauty-full." This surprised me, as well as thrilled me, given her inclination to all things Disney Princess and Barbie right now. I nabbed this teachable moment and talked to her about beauty - though she quickly told me, "Mama, I know! God doesn't make ugly people, and He made us all, so we all have something pretty about us!" complete with eyeroll - Have I mentioned she is 5 going on 16? It makes me giggle at times, and pull my hair out at other times. Nevertheless, she is quite confident in this idea of beauty-comes-in-all-shapes-sizes-and-colors idea.

Then, I got my hair cut. This is my before pic - non-stylized:
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And After:
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We all loved it!

We had a lot more time than I had anticipated between the cut and the kindy registration, so I tried to figure out a fun Mommy-n-me activity.

"Hey sweetie, wanna go to Starbucks and get a steamer while Mommy gets a coffee?"
This is a very rare treat, and as you can imagine, is right up her alley.
I ordered my new favorite: a marble mocha macchiato with an extra shot of espresso (otherwise it's too sweet and too little coffee!). LMNOB ordered a raspberry steamer and a chocolate muffin for us to share. We sat in the tall chairs along the window edge of the café and gabbed like old girlfriends. We talked about the art in the store, and about expectations for kindergarten. We had a delightful time that I'll treasure for a lifetime. My little girl is not a baby anymore...sniff sniff ;-(

Next: Kindergarten Registration.
LMNOB was very impressed. I was not. We registered, however, I'm still checking out other options, like
new charter schools.

All in all, many memories made....more to follow. I love this little girl, who is more and more like me than I realized - physically and emotionally
.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Mommy and LMNOB All Alone Tomorrow

Since January 1 this year, I've had every other Wednesday off of work, otherwise working Tues-Thurs. It's a screwy schedule...sort of. You see, I cheat. Since my daycare provider isn't likely to fill two slots that only are available 2x/month, I still pay for, and receive childcare on those days. Yes, I get two blissful days a month to myself...sometimes.

One time the kids were too sick for daycare.

Another time, something else came up.

Tomorrow...it's kindergarten registration (again -that's going to have to be another post), and I told LMNOB that we would have a Mommy and Me day where we would drop Punkin-head off at the daycare, go home and paint each other's nails, tell funny stories, go get Mommy's haircut (with a real stylist, not a Fantastic Sam's generi-stylist!), and do lunch before we had to go to the school.

She's excited, and this morning said, "Mama? Can we get our fancy clothes on tomorrow?"

"Sure, sugar plum, whatever you like."

Seeing her face BEAMING with anticipation, I stop and think to myself.
Why oh why haven't we done this before?

I hope this is the beginning of MANY Mommy and Me Moments with her.

Ever just wake up with someone on your mind?

I'm kind of tripping out here...lots of old feelings coming to the surface. I've determined that my mind operates on a purely random basis. Out of the blue this morning, I'm in the shower and a thought pops into my mind : My bio father's son will graduate highschool this year. There was no warning, no notable trigger for this thought, it just popped in.

Now, remember I told ya'll that my parents had me when they were both 16? Remember I didn't know my father growing up? Well, I did actually meet him at age 14. My mother was going thru a messy divorce/bankruptcy with step-daddy #1 and was in need of cash. So, she applied for public assistance.

Social services said, "Whoa, wait, there's a baby daddy who shoulda been paying you for a lotta years," some of those years in which she'd used the state monies before - and it was determined that bio dad would need to pay back child support to bring my mother back into good standing for current assistance.

He had lived in the same small town as us most of those 14 years. He was surprised, and who wouldn't be? Ring-ring... hey remember that person who came into the world 14 yrs ago whom you share DNA with? Well, now that she's almost raised, I need some help.

He was cool with it, but wanted to meet me. I of course had longed for such a meeting with fear, vacillating from angst to idealization of him (I had this fantasy that my father would be a white knight sweeping me away from my mother for awhile) and more for about 10 years. Now that it was here, I had all sorts of insecurities arise. He's going to see my dreadful teeth and freak, hope he likes chubby-faces, I'm too old for him to love....

But meet we did, at my paternal aunt's house (yeah, I knew who he was-my cousins on his side accounted for about 50% of my schoolmates). He was married with two sons, aged 5 and 2. That was September 26, 1993. We spent time together on the weekends after that. For the first time in my life, I witnessed stability in a family; I was enamored!

In November, Mom announced that we would be moving from WA to CO with her then live-in boyfriend, later becoming abusive, alcoholic step-daddy #2. I was crushed. Not only would I be leaving the life-long home and friends I'd known, but this new chapter in my life was to continue long-distance.

We moved to a VERY small town in CO that I hated with as much teenage dispair and misery that I could muster. Not only had I been removed from the life I'd always known, the father I'd only just gotten to know, but now I was in a cow-poke town full of machismo, ignorance, and plain non-acceptance of new people - and I was going to graduate here...yippee. Oh, and step-daddy #2? He just got more OCD and more abusive as time went on. I have nothing but the fondest memories of Craig, CO.....right.

Meanwhile bio father and I wrote to each other. We talked on the phone frequently, which caused my mother's green-demon of envy to come out in full force. She hated him for his past sins of abandonment, and continued to punish both of us for it. I turned 15, and then it was summer. I got to go back and visit him, and all of my friends I missed so badly!

That summer was totally idyllic....until reality came crashing in late one night. Seems bio father still had some unresolved feelings toward Mom too, and I, looking like her and being in close proximity, was the target for those feelings. The wife had gone to bed. It was just us. As we sat watching a movie, dear old dad's hands began to wander. I got a crash-course in the literal meaning of being "frozen with fear." I couldn't move, talk, all I could do was sit there and cry. I tried to talk a hundred times, with the words screaming in my mind, but my mouth simply would not move. Finally, as he went for skin on skin contact, up the back of my shirt, my neurons fired up and did what my brain had been begging to do from the beginning - bolted right out of there and locked myself in the bathroom.

Honestly, the whole thing is still grey to me. It was clearly a boundaries violation, but in the scheme of sexual abuse, damn... it could have been so much worse, right?

Nevertheless, there was a mass of confused emotions shooting through my mind for the next 48 hours. Denial coursed through my veins in a violent, flash-flood like torrent. So much so, I was clouded for a while and still made the call to my mom saying I didn't want to come back - a call I'd thought of since I first arrived. Mom was pissed, of course, and had my maternal grandmother pick me up and ship me home.

It took me a long time to process it fully. For awhile we still corresponded, but by the time I'd graduated, we were down to b'day and Christmas acknowledgements only. I sent him a wedding announcement in college, and I think that was it. I briefly connected via e-mail with him after the birth of my daughter, to let him know he was a grandparent. They sent a few items for her in the mail....but now, well it's been a minimum of 4 years since we've talked, and just as long since I've even thought of him and his family...it just became easier for me to mentally detach myself from him b/c of all the conflicting emotions that thinking of him brings up.

So, now, almost 13 years after meeting, and probably only 1 full year of meaningful interaction, why this thought? What triggered it? I don't know, but I do know that I'm all messed up for today. sigh

Monday, March 27, 2006

Humbled by a Chance Quote

I have a Franklin-Covey day-planner, and it gets a lot of use Mon-Fri, but uh, not so much on the weekends. I LOVE it for work, b'days, bill pay dates, and daily tasks thru the week. I enjoy reading the quotes on every day's notepage on business days, but I don't even open it on the weekends- preferring spontaneity on my down-time days spent with family.

Charlie Brown and I were badly in need of going to the grocery. But, we're list shoppers, so I grabbed my nearby planner to start making a list on the day's note page.

There, at the bottom, read words that spoke to my very soul:

I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble.
--Helen Keller

Wow....uhm, yeah, what she said.

You see, part of this whole growing up process that continues to plague me is a sense of restlessness this longing that Helen Keller spoke of to do and be something larger than life, and then discontentment with the fact that I haven't quite reached that goal, at least not as it stood in my original plan. In fact, I've been really soul-searching lately and there's this feeling in me that I need to let go of, but am struggling to do. I guess I feel like life happened to me instead of was something that I made happen. Geeze, can you say victim mentality - the fact that that even enters my head makes me want to gag! Mostly these feelings emanate from LMNOB's timing and the fact that her entry to my world was a radical agent of change to the plan from which I thought I'd never deviate. But that's just it! I did deviate from it, and before LMNOB ever was a twinkle in my eye, so why do I lose sight of that?

On top of it all, I know that even with free will, God's hand is ever present in my life - having prayed for years that He would "guide, guard, and direct" my life according to His will. Doesn't that mean that regardless of my plans, His are going to trump? Psalms 13:21 says Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails, and yet, I become blind to this truth so easily it's very put-me-in-my-rightful-place humbling. Particularly so when I read James 4:13-15: Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money." 14Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 15Instead, you ought to say, "If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that." Uhhhm-hmmm, that plan I mentioned? That plan which has undergone a series of revisions, and even just recently I was contemplating updating? Purely worthless without asking His permission first....DUH! I don't know what tomorrow holds - that's the whole reason I'm disillusioned in the first place - because tomorrow didn't live up to MY expectations. Me thinks humble pie tastes kind of like molasses; a little is not too bad, but the whole pie is pretty tough to choke down.

I didn't plan to be a mother, but God made me one. And I love these kids like no tomorrow - perhaps I ought to heed Helen Keller's words, and take my seemingly ordinary charge as a mother, and perform those maternal duties with the reverence and awe they deserve instead of viewing them as a chore.

I didn't plan on being 26 and an admin assistant, but here I sit. Sure, I took this job b/c it's the world of grants and I thought that the information would be helpful when my plan detoured from being a counselor to most likely working with some kind of human services non-profit agency. I guess when I'm bored, I should re-evaluate and think b/c of my efforts to maximize efficiency in our office, several hardworking agencies out there are benefitted with the energy to help the really hard cases. That is a great and noble task, in the big scheme. Where it takes me, we'll wait and see, but I'm gonna quit pushing quite so hard my search for a different, more meaningful job.

I hate housework, and am quite resentful when Charlie Brown leaves it all for me to do. Though, if I think back to our Dynamic Marriage course, I recall that a clean house was something he reported as a deposit in the love bank. I love him, I want to make deposits in that account, and with that in mind, the drudgery of domestic tasks becomes something with greater significance. Or at least that's what I have to keep telling myself - this one's a bit harder to see!

Being a wife
Being a Mother
Being a sister - physical or spiritual
My community involvement
All the things that lovingly serving my family encompasses
Cooking great food
Sharing my heart
Paying my bills
Exercising (for longevity and health)
Speaking out on "silent" issues
Etc, etc,

All of the above are things that are just me...rather were just me - no longer are character traits and roles I play- along with the duties they require, JUST anything - now, they are the great and noble things which make me who I am.

Thank you Helen, not only for your amazing life, but for your utterance, immortalized by history, seen by me in a moment of chance - for they have given me the much-needed attitude adjustment I have been looking for.

Thank you Father, for blessing me with your Word today. Have your Way with my life, Father God on High, I surrender to Your will - just one favor: will you PLEEEEEAASE help me to KNOW it when I see it? Love ya, Dad~ your red-headed child (ain't no step about it with this Daddy!)

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Confessions of a Mommy on a budget

I bought a pair of black, leather, full-calf, heeled boots today. I've been coveting the ones several of my friends have been wearing the whole winter season. But, alas, I haven't had the green to splurge on such a frivolous purchase. Besides, as Charlie Brown would point out, I already have 3 different pairs of black heels - sensible square pumps, patent leather slingbacks, and my summer mulies; all dear friends of mine, just at different times of the year and with certain outfits. You know how it is.

Last night, we received our escrow surplus refund from our former mortgage company...
but, don't get too excited, most of that is earmarked for bills.

So, this morning, I had to pick up some office supplies for work...and Kohl's was right there. I had a few minutes, so I perused the clearance racks quickly. I found that all of the really nice scarves, hats, and gloves were marked down to a final clearance price of $3. Score! Christmas 2006 shopping done, inexpensively, for one of the lucky women on my list. I then mosied on over to the shoes section. Kohl's shoes in general are more expensive than I typically allow myself to spend - I'm really tight with money when it comes to myself.

There, in the clearance section, were the boots I have been wanting...
beneath a sign that said 85% off! They were my size! Enter giddiness, when I see they are normally $70 and are marked down to $15!!! I didn't even think to do the math and figure whether $15 was 85% off of $70 - they were exquisitely affordable, and nice quality too!

So, the blissful nirvana that finally hit me occurred at the register, when said boots rang up at $7.50! All final clearances were an additional 50% off. I'm in love....and Charlie Brown will be too....I know how his mind works ;-)

Sickies Aftermath not so Easy to Clean When...

the dishwasher goes kaput!

We're new homeowners...that is, we bought a brand new home 2 yrs ago, and it's our first house.

This whole idea of having to fix it "on our own" is kind of scary. It's no longer as easy as calling the landlord and saying, "This needs fixed," and letting it go after that. I mean, granted we have a limited warranty on the appliances, and it appears to be an electrical issue which is covered for 2-5 years - but what if it's not covered? How much is this going to cost? Let alone clean up...there's a whole load of dishes that aren't entirely clean yet in there.

So, I called the appliance guy, he's coming tomorrow. Until then, say hello to dishpan hands. Maybe Charlie Brown and I can do them together á la the early days of our marriage???

Whaddya'll think, bets for or against Chuck getting his hands wet? I'm taking a poll...;-)

Monday, March 20, 2006

Plans

Long ago in a far off land, the girl who would one day be Ramblin' Red made rather grandiose plans.

She planned to go to CSU, obtain an undergraduate degree in the scintillating field of psychology - one that was of a scientific nature, and thus afforded lots of laughter when she would later say, "I have a B.S. in Psychology" - and later pursue graduate education of a similar ilk, and live happily ever after; knowing the causes and fixes to the problems in others' lives, she planned to become a fat-cat therapist listening and talking with others.

She was rather ignorant of non-profit organizations in total, let alone those providing mental health care to those in need.

And when she found herself graduating, married, pregnant, and so NOT going on to grad school, she found out just how idealistic and oblivious her plans were when compared with reality. She came to know just how much of a joke a BS in psychology, independent of a subsequent stream of alphabet soup, truly was.

In 2002, a year after graduating, now the mother of an 11 month old infant, Ramblin' Red put her BS to use. She was now a case manager for the local, non-profit/quasi-governmental mental health center. Case manager/Housing Coordinator = 20 hours, and Case Manager/BenefitsAcquisitionist/Homeless Outreach Worker = the other 20 hours. It was a lot of hats to wear, for a meager $10.11/hr, which required this BS degree whose price tag was way more than that. But, wear them she did, and fairly well for a girl of 22.

Now, the 20 hrs week that went to the homeless outreach gig was a program where there was a Designated Therapist to whom Ramblin' Red would make homeless client referrals. And above them both was the very thinly spread Project Manager/Supervisor, whatever, who also oversaw many other projects at the center.

The programs Ramblin' Red was involved with were about to fold. She asked a LOT of questions, read up on HUD regulations like nobody's business, and got the ball rolling with the right people to whip them into right good shape. Or, as good of shape as they could get with programmatic barriers in place, but better, nonetheless.

Along the way, she'd had some ethical differences of opinion with DT re: what exactly constituted work for the homeless program. She'd work so hard for her homeless folks, and BAM! They'd hit a wall when DT entered the picture. PM dismissed her as overly green and idealistic. They knew how the world worked, after all. They were veteran adults, whereas Ramblin' Red was relatively new to this adult reality thing.

She was like, so whatever...and just kept trying to change the world and make it a better place.

More and more ethical differences arose between Ramblin' Red and DT. She went to PM again. When he again shot her down, she went to the HR woman. Which then led to the Assoc. Director of the Center. PM got sick with a stress-related disease and went on FMLA for his guaranteed 12 weeks. And never came back.

For 6 mos, Ramblin' Red didn't have a supervisor. She became her own boss and became a verifiable expert on her programs.

As Ramblin' Red celebrated her 1st anniversary of employment with the Center, a New PM came in, internally, and Ramblin' Red briefed her on the work she did, as well as the problems she'd had with DT. Other co-workers also had problems with DT.

NPM gave DT cautious benefits of the doubt. Which meant - she did nothing.

Ramblin' Red then gave birth to Punkinhead, and decided to drop the Homeless Transitional Program and only return at .5 FTE for the housing programs. She was so done with DT.

As another year and a half passed by, Ramblin' Red grew frustrated with barriers to continuity of care, and state budget cuts to vital programs. Also, with the new business like model of measuring "productivity," which was great for therapists, but not so great for housing coordinators who had copious amounts of paperwork, or indirect - and thus - non "productive" units of work to do.

She heard about a city gov't position with a woman whom Ramblin' Red knew and liked, and she applied for it.

She got it.

And that's how she came to be where she is at now at this stage in her career.

Also? DT was fired one year after she left the center - for the very things she had been telling them for years.

Weekend Sickies

Uuuggh, my head feels like it could, and should, explode. I can breathe today, but yesterday, not so much. I've finally broken the 18hr fever I've had...Finally feel like I don't need to sleep - yesterday I was only awake for a total of 5 hours.

I HATE BEING SICK!

I just can't stand it, and I'm not talking about a minor cold with a sore throat - life goes on, the same ole same ole when it's like that. But this, knocked me flat on my arse and I'm struggling just to get back up.

At the same time I got hit with my illness of the season, Colorado - at least the part I live in- got hit with the storm of the season. It's been a dry winter, but this is the one. I'm glad to see it, I just hope it's not like the blizzard of March 2003 - which shut everything down for about 3 days.

For now, I have to clean the aftermath of the cold of the season. It would appear that while Charlie Brown was a great nurse and caretaker for the children yesterday, he isn't getting props as a maid anytime soon.

Friday, March 17, 2006

Paint Patrick's Day


LOL, LMNOB just informed me that today is "Paint Patrick's Day," and wanted to know "what we do today?"

I told her we simply wear green. I figure 5 yrs of age is not nearly enough to comprehend the significance of Saint Patrick and his introduction of Christianity to the Celts...or the lore behind the idea of him driving all the snakes out of Ireland. I envision her hearing that and thinking, "Cool, but what's the big deal?" Nevertheless, we did do a fun leprechaun shot, seen above.

As for me and Charlie Brown, it's our monthly date night. Since our last two date nights have been cozy, casual, and intimately us, this one's gonna be a double! Saint Paddy's day with two of our married-sans-kids friends, out on the town, at our fave Irish Pub, Conor O'Neil's, in the heart of Old Town. It's bound to be great fun for this red-headed Scotch-Irish lass.

Slainte'

Growing up...part 2

On the last episode of Growing Up, the pretty little red-haired girl (moi) had just discovered she was, surprise! pregnant with Seth's baby...let's see what's in store.

As soon as class was over, I went to the University Health Clinic for confirmation of what the test said in the bathroom stall. As it turned out, the receptionist informed me all women's services staff were at lunch, and wouldn't be back for an hour. Little did I know, I had an audience listening to my request for services. I went to the library, killed a little time - and learned that the only false positive one can get with an HPT is in the event of a molar pregnancy...with this in mind, I still returned to the Health Clinic. That's me, the absolutely gotta know girl. This time, when I returned, I was told to wait until someone came for me. This is where my earlier audience enters.

CSU is not terribly diverse. It's predominantly white, with black students nearly always being the athletes. This huge black guy looked at me sympathetically and says, "Yo you must just be on pins an' needles, havin' to wait an' come back. I'd definitely wanna know - Whatchu gonna do 'bout it?"

I burst out laughing. He was taken aback a little bit. I answered him:

"Well, it's not your typical case of ' I got knocked up', you see," as I held up my hand, and flashed my wedding ring. "Our second anniversary is next week, and I graduate in December. I'm actually pretty happy with my unexpected graduation present." Seth would be too, right? The stress factor of insurance was eating at me. We had private coverage, thinking the employee portion of his employer's offered insurance was too high for us...and this private coverage had maternity exclusions. Somehow it would work out.

"Well in that case, congratulations! How you gonna tell Papa - got any creative ideas?" Big black guy pulled me out of my thoughts, giving me more fodder to mull over.

Right as I was replying, the nurse called my name. Saved by the bell...I was a bit uncomfortable discussing this baby with a complete stranger when my own husband didn't even know!

I gave the nurse my dates for the last period I'd had, she took my temp, pulse, etc., and I peed in a cup. Waited for a few minutes, then talked with a doc.

"Well, sweetie, you are pregnant...but barely."

"Barely? I thought it was kind of an all or nothing determination," I replied.

"Well, yes, but you see, at most you are 2 wks past conception, or 4 wks pregnant."

OK?

She then went on this long litany of miscarriage stats for the first trimester, second trimester, and the overall likelihood of a successful pregnancy.

I stopped her, once again flashing my ring, and making my stage of life known. "I don't know if you thought perhaps to put me at ease with all that information, being a surprise pregnancy and all -but you haven't. You have just scared the crap out of me. You see, I want this baby!" I then left the room, saying I would find a doctor who had a bedside manner for the remainder of my pregnancy.

I'm 21 for crying out loud! Why am I being treated like an unwed teenager? Sure, I'm young, but it's not disgraceful or anything.

I stopped at the pharmacy on the way home and talked with the pharmacist about OTC prenates vs. Rx prenates. He assured me the OTC were every bit as good. Being on a budget, I grabbed the OTC vitamins.

I tried to find a card that portrayed a witty, yet congratulatory message for a to-be parent. No such luck - grabbed a generic congratulations card. I scribbled some random message in it, and stuck the dr'.s rx for prenates in it. I figured Seth would figure it out.

He came home that night from work as I was cooking dinner. I'd taped the card to the coat closet door, being the first thing he would see upon coming home. He grabbed it and went straight to the bathroom (I'd forgotten that post-work habit in planning this whole card announcement thing).

Later, he came out...with a soggy prenates rx. He sheepishly said, "I had to go and when I opened it, it fell right into the toilet." I laughed, nervously, and told him it was ok, I had gotten some OTC prenates. He was excited, nervous, and scared...scared about the insurance issue, but overall happy, saying God would provide.

And provide He did...

June 30th had been the end of open enrollment for Seth's insurance at work. It was July 3rd. He was allowed to enroll via retro-dating his signature. We had maternity coverage!

Months flew by...I graduated from CSU, and then became a SAH-soon to be Mommy. I cleaned, organized, prepared our apartment for the birth of our baby.

To be cont'd

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Monikers/Aliases, Etc.

I hadn't yet decided what my family's monikers were going to be when I started this blog. But after giving it some thought, here's what I've come up with:

Dh- He's your average joe, with a tendency to be a real block-head at times. Thus, he's Charlie Brown, or CB. (I've decided this designation automatically assumes my identity as the pretty little red-haired girl Chuck was always hot for - and it fits, eh?)

I could continue the Peanuts theme, as my son is a total Linus with his blankie, and my daughter is in full 5 y/o-girl-first child-haven't-gone-to-kindergarten-yet-so-I'm-queen-of-the-world bloom that would make her a perfect Lucy. But, I'm not one of those adults with a pop culture fetish.

So, ds, in all his 2y/o glory, remains what I affectionately call him at home: Punkin-head, or PH.

Dd, in that earlier mentioned bloom of bossiness and attempted independence, is hereby referred to as LMNOB - Little Miss "No" Or "But..." (also my waaaaaaaaayyyyyyy too nerdy play on the ell-em-en-oh-pee *LMNOP* run-on that kids do when singin' ABC's)

Monday, March 13, 2006

Already???

I just went to the bathroom at work for the umpteenth time today (I had 3 cups of java this morning instead of my usual 1), and while washing my hands, I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror.

It being a flash of silvery white in my otherwise gold & copper hair...I had highlights put in for the gold, about 4 wks ago? Upon closer inspection...it's exactly what I think it is. My first gray (white, really, as it's totally devoid of color - well, only the first inch that is new growth - the remainder of the strand is highlighted) hair.

My 27th birthday is 2 months away, I'm not even 30 yet! Is it possible? Dang...I guess it is....and as I said, it's pigment-impaired...white. Is it my destiny to be a peach-haired woman at age 30? Or worse yet, will I have that painfully obvious, artificially red hair which results when one colors WHITE hair? People already think me older than I am, with two children in tow, past the seven year itch of marriage, and my wise-for-my-times personality...do I really have to look the part, too?

And then...perspective hits my over-caffeinated, vanity-stricken, totally shallow mind-set:

My good friend, same age as me, just lost the baby of her first pregnancy to miscarriage.

I have a home, food to eat, work to provide those commodities, and a family who loves me...How many thousands of people from Lousianna and Mississippi still can't say that?

Geeze, it really is nothing in comparison to what really matters, is it?

Nothing at all...For that, I can count my blessings.

Besides...I'm now one hair and one day closer to my supposed sexual peak ;o) right? Bring it on!

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Growing up...

I'm at the phase in life where the phrase, "The more I know, the more I realize how little I know," defines me.

The best-laid plans don't always come to fruition, and rather, go through numerous life-happens revisions (aka plan B, edited repeatedly) - so much so that the plans one has at the beginning of college do not even resemble the doings that person recounts to everyone at the 10-yr. high-school reunion. I've learned to refrain from making plans which have the word never in them. You know, "My kids will never talk to me that way," or "I would never stay with a man who cheated on me." Time has shown me that it's damned near impossible to adhere to such plans, because unless it's happened before and I absolutely know I wouldn't or couldn't tolerate something to the point of attaching the word never to it, I don't have so much as a clue as to whether my plan is an idle threat or a firm promise to myself and the involved party.

I had a ten-year plan at one time. At age 16, I was insistent that at 18, I would get in to college with the aid of scholarships (I'd always been a straight A student), study psychology, go to graduate school where I would study more psychology, get more letters behind my name, set up private practice as a counselor/psychologist, work for a while, live independently, find a nice man to marry and start a family when we felt ready. I had mapped out how I would support myself through school, beyond scholarships - enthralled with the idea of free room and board, I'd planned on working as an RA for the dorms my 2nd year and on; I'd thought about moving to a different state, picturing an urban-chic single chick existence...enter life happens - revision 1 to the plan.

I met a guy...............

At age 16.5, one of my then best friends became my boyfriend. He moved to Denver to live with his brother while I finished my senior year of highschool, and we did the long-distance thing. We were able to date in much closer proximity while I attended Colorado State University just an hour north from him.

We were young, in love....and stupid.

I say stupid because looking back now, things would have been different. Not I-don't-love-you-we-were-too-young different, but things would have moved a little slower than they did...anyway I digress, life came in and did its work to my plan.

We got engaged, and six months later, at the age of 19, I was married.

Just a minor change to the plan, right?

Right....I could still finish college and press forward with grad school. The Mister was totally on board for that. So I plugged my way through college, working, married, and driven to succeed. So much so, I got a wild hair to finish early by a semester. In the summer of 2000, I was taking classes, doing an internship for a local NPO, and preparing to submit an application for graduate school, studying for the GRE....life happens-revision 2 came crashing in.

July 3, 2000...Amazing how one day changes a person's whole world.

My period was a week late, leading me to take a whole other kind of test than planned. I was so busy and, not wanting to worry Seth in the event of a false alarm - don't laugh- I bought an HPT the night before, shoved it in my back-pack, and peed on the stick in a university basement bathroom stall - dimly lit in summer energy conservation efforts, too, I might add.

That second line was almost a figment of my imagination...so much so, I left the stall, furtively glanced around to ensure I was, in fact, alone, held the test up to the flickering fluorescent light, and, sure enough, there was a second line.

A faint second line, but a second line, the "A line is a line," line. FREAK OUT!

I'd just turned 21. JUST TURNED 21!

For a split second, I mourned the latest revision of my plan. SPLIT SECOND...then, tears of inexplicable joy!

Then the whirlwind of thoughts racing wildly: "A life is inside me!?! The man I love and I are going to bring a creature with both our DNA into the world - a baby boy or girl? -names - I gotta call the Harmony House - there's no way I can go in tonight, I have to tell him - in a special way - but first, I need to get this confirmed, don't I need a doctor? A prenatal vitamin? Oh I hope I don't have morning sickness, I start Physio Psych Lab in a few weeks (dissection of human brains, formaldehyde) - Oh, crap, class just started again!"

My study partner saw me come in late to class, noticed my face, and furiously whispered, "What is going on...something's going on, you can't not tell me!" I grabbed the stick and held it under the table we sat at. Her mouth formed a large "o" and she hugged me. I was graduating in 6 months...I would graduate and then have this baby. Could I get my cake (the first generation of college graduation in my family) and eat it too (starting a family with my beloved)?

I couldn't tell you what the remaining lecture was about. I know we were talking about the clinical reliability and validity of commonly used testing measurements, the Stanford-Binet IQ test, Beck Depression Inventory, etc, b/c of the class notes prior to intermission, but afterward?

Not a clue.

to be cont'd

Friday, March 10, 2006

Peculiar behavior

My 2 y/o son is a wonder...he speaks with a toddler-ese accent, however, his words are really pristine English for his age.

As we all know, a mother's kiss makes any booboo better, at least up to a certain age.

His latest thing to make me wonder?

"Mama, kiss my eyes," a command that sounds like "Mama tiss muh eyyyyes," and it's spoken with such urgency, I can only happily oblige...and wonder just how much longer I have until he's on to me and realizes Mama's kiss is more placebo than anesthetic.

Apparently, he is equating tears with a boo-boo, because he makes this request only after he's been crying....I know, every kid is different, but I've never heard of this before!

It's too sweet, and truth be told, I love this little oddball ritual.

Origins of the "red-headed stepchild"

Editor's Note: When I started this blog in 2006, I initially titled it "Ramblings of a Red-Headed Stepchild." I changed it several years back to Heather in the Making to more accurately reflect what my writing is all about.

Never once had I thought to research the origin of the phrase "red-headed stepchild," for I thought I knew what it meant and why. My family of origin used this phrase quite frequently, as there are a number of redheads on the maternal side of my lineage, including myself. Apparently, my paternal DNA has a history of red-heads too, but we'll get to that later.

My mother's cousin, Shelly, had hair approximate to the shade of Ronald McDonald's.

Then there was Aunt Ardell, my great-grandmother's sister, who had "peach" hair - as I knew her anyway. -Peach hair is the demise of redheads who age without going gray, and instead go white; it's a curious phenomenon that makes me giggle.

Grandma has always had gray hair, at least that's how my memories serve...but old family pictures show her with hair similar to the color mine's turning out to be; a coppery auburn that is clearly red to some, and only kinda red to others.

Then my son, he's got hair that most would call strawberry, though his older sister, age 5, tells him it's "orange."

Growing up in my family, Shelly received most of the red-headed stepchild comments, and for good cause as she was star of many of the family's memorable moments. Shelly was always pulling practical jokes in public. This often resulted in a family member saying, "Don't look at me, she's the red-headed stepchild!" Most of the time, in this context, red-headed stepchild was meant to equate something akin to the family idiot. Other times, when Shelly embarrassed one of us - often - red-headed stepchild was used similarly to the phrase "black sheep of the family." It was always a good-natured rib at her.

Soon, though, I received the red-headed stepchild brand. In my case it was more literal.

The product of two 16 y/o's who had no business having a child at that point in life, I grew up not knowing my biological father, and Mom quickly moved on to my first stepfather, who was the father of my 3 siblings. I had red hair; I was the step-child of our family - it fit.

Which brings me to my research...

To tell the truth, I only thought to research it because I used it in my blog title! So upon discovering the origins of the red-headed stepchild, I was a little dismayed at the dark connotations...and later, the ironic applicability to my own childhood.

In short, I found the term is often preceded by "I'll beat you like a..." - something that my ears had never heard. Apparently the reasons for the direction of violence toward such a child are attributed to:

--assumed illegitimacy of the red-headed stepchild - the red hair being an obvious indicator of a different father
--the mythic fiery temperament of a red-head combining with the sullen attitude of a stepchild

And perhaps the worst fact about the phrase?
It's interchangeable with the phrase "I'll beat you like a rented mule." Somewhere along the crossroads of societal beliefs and the etymological path, a stepchild became equivalent to an animal loathed by many, used by all.

Sadly, the things that created this phrase did hold true for me while growing up. My stepfather never accepted me, despite his claims that he "loved like one of his own." He was occasionaly abusive and did beat me like a red-headed stepchild.

It's pretty ironic to me now, knowing the history of the term, that what I always thought of as my own superficial, yet literal, label would so accurately describe my childhood...

Any other etymological biographies out there? Hmmm.....

Wednesday, March 1, 2006

The All You Wanted to Know About Me Post

My first [semi-autobiographical] post, explaining [then] blog title, Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child, is here.

How I came to the blogosphere is here.

I am not immune to insecurity. Or depression. Or bouts of narcissism (bad) - masked as confidence (good).

I married young. Nineteen.

As an indirect result... (read: huge surprise) I was a young(ish) mom - still am in most circles, too.

The Mister and I both apparently ordered mini-me's when makin' the babies.

Kelsey was diagnosed with Sensory Integration Dysfunction in kindergarten...lots of posts on this.

My church is of a fundamentalist conservative Christian flavor, but I am a Christian first, Church of Christ member second. I tend to see things in the heretical shade of GRAY.... :gasp:

If that ain't enough for ya'll...well...archives are below and to the right.

ETC...

Awards and the like:

Niki gave these two to me




For Social Conscience


Cyndy gave me this one:

Photobucket


Soliloquy granted me with this:


Eternal Sunshine gave me this:


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