PlanetSandra

She Ain't Heavy, She's My Sister

2010-09-21T18:38:00.000-07:00

Women NEED girlfriends. Without them, we're like newborn babies who've never been touched: we don't thrive.

I've long thought women suffer from the Women's Disease. Symptoms of the Women's Disease include:

Being incredibly hard on one's self.
Fixating on the tiniest of flaws; real or imagined.
Possessing an incredible sense of dissatisfaction with one's output.
Not saying, "No".
Not realizing our worth -- we are like precious rubies
Being smart, but making poor decisions

We need our girlfriends to tell us when we're suffering with a case of Women's Disease. For obvious reasons, I'm not going to name names, but one particularly accomplished friend was beating herself up and ready to quit a program she was working on because she wasn't "contributing". Incredulously, I asked, "Are you sh------ me?" You've done. . . and. . .and. . ., and you think you're not contributing?

In her mind, because she hadn't done one thing -- she was not contributing. Thankfully, I think she heard me and will stop fixating on that one, singular, omission and focus on all the many ways in which she has contributed to the program.

Another friend is in love (lust??) with a guy who has told her he's not interested in a stable relationship. She's going to change him. Why do otherwise intelligent women always think they're going to change him?

Women need to have a core group of women friends whom they can rely on to give them a dose of reality. I'm not talking about casual acquaintances. I'm talking about friends who know the truth and will take it to the grave with them. Friends who will tell you the brutal truth in the most loving, supportive, and positive way. Friends who will stay stone cold sober, while you drown your sorrows in a bottle of wine or shots of Tequila. Friends who will, genuinely, rejoice when you excel.

If you're a woman and you don't have at least one friend like that. . .I don't even know what to say. One of the greatest blessings of my life is being loved by other woman. I have been abundantly blessed that I have 3-4 core friends and I'm madly in love with each of them.

Here are just a few ways in which we love one another:

We rejoice for one another. When I call my best friend and tell her my good news, her joy is unselfish. It is as if my wonderful event has happened to her.

We encourage one another. A friend was having a bad day at work and called me because she knew I would raise her spirits. I'm honored to do that for her.

We support one another. Years ago, I did something really stupid. When I called a friend for help, she said, "Sandra, you are the most rational person I know. If you think you made a mistake, I will help you fix it." No questions asked.

We keep each other's secrets. Enough said.

We tell each other the truth. Yes, your butt does look big in that! And, I will not let you go out looking less than your very best. I may make fun of you, but nobody else will.

We share wisdom with one another. "Now, baby. . ." when one of my friends begins with those words, I know something good is coming. I'm all too willing to learn from her life experiences, minimize my own suffering, and maximize my own happiness.

We forgive each other.

The Bible warns us against not having friends in Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 -- Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!

Men I Would Refuse to Date

2010-09-18T06:37:00.000-07:00

Along with the women in my service organization, I participated in a book club discussion of Mennonite in a Little Black Dress. The facilitator recalled passages where the author and her sister make a list of men they would refuse to date: men named Dwayne or Bruce; men who have the high strange laugh of a distant loon; men who bring index cards with prewritten conversation starters on a first date.

We all had a big laugh as we shared characteristics of men we would refuse to date. Answers included:

Men who are too metrosexual. There's only room for one diva in this relationship!
Men who smoke. Funny how this was a non-issue at one time.
Men in poor health. This, from an 80 year old member.

Men who stifled us. Thank you for letting me be myself!

Men who don't like to talk. No commentary needed.

Being married, I haven't given much thought to men I would refuse to date, but our group got me to thinking. Admitedly, some of these things are just plain shallow and might not be readily apparent, but once I found out -- beat it, scram, get outta here!

Men with too many bumper stickers on their car. Really, by too many, I mean one. The only exception might be one bumper sticker expressing patriotism.
Men who would eat the last of one of my favorite snacks. Even if it's his favorite, too, he should ask me if I want the last one.
Men who wouldn't talk to me during sports. Hey, I'm only watching 'cause I like you, so you'd better talk to me.
Men named Elliot. I just don't like that name. Sorry.
Men with ugly feet. Ugly feet gross me out.
Men who say, "Pull my finger". What are you, 10!
Men who can't cook or fix stuff. All the men in my family can cook and are mechanically inclined.
Men with bad teeth/breath/skin. I couldn't even think about kissing him.
Men with feminine hands. I like a man with strong hands. Callouses are ok, too.
Men who talk on their cell phone while they're with you. I need it to be all about me.

Hmm, I thought this would be a hard list to compile. What men would you refuse to date?

I'm Not That Dog's Aunt!

2010-09-16T11:26:00.000-07:00

That's what I keep saying, but they're not listening. Now, I'm even being referred to as "TT". Thanks, Steve! (For those who don't know, "TT" is a term of endearment for one's aunt)

Ok, I will concede to being referred to as "Auntie" in reference to the dog -- she is just so darn adorable -- but, I draw the line at kissing her. Lips that touch (all the stuff that dog lips touch) will never touch mine!

Like any good aunt, I dog-sat Fluffy while my friends went away.

As an aside. . .I love that they go away, without the kid, and just enjoy each other's company.

I never expected this little event to turn into a learning experience for me! I love, love, love, dogs and Fluffy is especially lovable -- not a yapper, no "mistakes" inside the house, obedient, and companionable. What's not to love about this dog?!

Her visit left me with more than just dog hair in the carpet (small price to pay). I was surprised at the insight our visit left me with. I would say I gained insight into dog behavior, but I think some things could apply to human behavior, as well.

Dogs have no regard for your privacy: With most people, if you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, they occupy themselves and politely ignore how long you've been gone. Not dogs. After she figured out I was prone to leave the room several times throughout the day, she stopped following me out immediately. But, if I weren't back in some sufficient dog-time, she was on my trail. If that trail happened to lead to the bathroom, so what. She would just nudge the door open, walk in as if she owned the place, look me in the eye, and just stand there. Excuse me! Funny thing is, by the end of her visit, she had trained me to expect her to appear during my "private time".

Dogs bring out the best in people: Trying to be a responsible dog-sitter, I took Fluffy with me on my errands. Everyplace we went, people stopped to inquire about her and talk with us. Wait staff made sure she had water and pet her, strangers helped untangle her leash and gave me tips, and dog lovers wanted to discuss her breed. This was such a departure from having the person seated nearby totally ignore everyone around them as they texted or talked on their cell phone. Strangers being nice to each other, making casual conversation, and smiling and laughing. What a concept!

Dogs know how to have a good time!: We were invited to a party. Technically, Fluffy was invited to a party -- I was just a hanger-on. Our crazy friends have, not 1, not 2, but 3 Chi-wa-was (I'm not even going to try to spell that correctly). After the dogs warmed up to each other, they were sharing toys, treats and just having a ball! And, that little rascal, Charlie, was crushin' on Fluffy! We think he was actually flexing his muscles! Is it a little bit pathetic that a dog party ranks among one of the best parties I've been to in awhile?

Dogs have mastered the art of just "being": Watching TV. Having coffee. Watering the yard. Working at the computer. On the telephone. Fluffy was never far from me, but she was never intrusive (humans, take a lesson!). She was content to just be with me, without smothering me (yes, I know how that sounds!). When she wanted my attention or some interaction, she knew how to get it: I was sitting with my legs draped across our leather chair and she wanted me to pick her up, but I wouldn't. That little charmer took a few steps backward and leaped into my lap! I was so shocked I LOL! Well, how could I say "No" after that. She promptly curled up into my lap and fell asleep. I think I dozed off, too.

If my dog doesn't like you. . .: If I had a dog, who would I let dog-sit for me? I'm so grateful Fluffy's parents (if I'm an aunt, they're parents) trusted me enough to leave her with me and I didn't disappoint them. It's easy to see how people become so attached to their dog. Dogs know if you're trustworthy and loving (maybe even lovable), so if I had a dog and if my dog didn't like you, well. . .I'll just leave it at that.

By the time my friends returned, Fluffy and I were ready. We'd enjoyed each other's company, but were both ready for things to return to "normal". I gotta say, though, my "normal" is a little bit different, now.

Lord, Give Me the Strength. . .

2010-09-04T14:38:00.000-07:00

When I taught Sunday School (don't laugh!), there was a young lady in my class that seemed to try everyone's patience, including my own. Several of my students complained to me about her behavior and about not liking her. (In retrospect, she may have had some undisclosed mental/behavioral issues.)

I acknowledged they had every right to feel the way the did. But, I also presented them with a question: What if she is a test of your faith?

I suggested we all consider how we interact with her as a real-world situation where we got to put our beliefs into practical use. As Christians, we are cautioned to exercise patience, act humbly and compassionately, and to behave lovingly toward one another. So, I understood how their "feelings" were in direct conflict with their "faith".

Twenty years later, I find myself in a similar situation. A colleague with whom I routinely interact is, consistently, overbearing, insensitive, and dismissive. And, not just to me. To compound matters, they seem completely self-unaware of how they're perceived. Which raises another question in my mind, How can any reasonably intelligent person be so unaware of how others perceive them?

Funny thing is, while these characteristics make dealing with them a challenge, I genuinely like this person. When they're not being overbearing, insensitive, and dismissive, they're smart, enthusiastic, and industrious. But, it's hard to get by the other stuff and see these admirable traits. Honestly, I didn't even recognize them, at first, because I was so blinded by the "bad" stuff.

Nonetheless, recent events have made overlooking the other stuff quite challenging. As difficult as it may be, I'm going to take my own advice -- hey, it was good advice then and still is, now.

Furthermore, Proverbs 12:16 says, "A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult.” Instead of being annoyed, I will pray for the Spirit’s power to change my own heart and mind toward this person and give me the strenght to see them as needing the same love, grace and mercy that God has extended toward us.

And also because my parents didn't raise no fool!

We Were on a Break!

2010-09-01T21:59:00.000-07:00

I cannot believe it's been 4 months since I posted to my blog. Don't think for one second it's been because I haven't had anything to say -- I always have something to say! The best way to explain my absence is that I've been too busy living Life to write about it.

One major event since my last post was my Sweetie had a milestone birthday and we celebrated with a trip to Chicago, where we had a FAN-TAB-U-LOUS time! Here we are in front of the reflective art piece, Cloud Gate, in Millennium Park.

Moving forward, let's see if I can't do a better job of living my Life and writing about it.

Marriage Is No Place for Sissies!

2010-09-01T21:27:00.000-07:00

In all fairness, the actual quote, attributed to Bette Davis, is, "Old age is no place for sissies". But, the same applies to marriage. Marriage isn't for the immature, uncompromising, or overly sensitive, either.

My Sweetie and I are celebrating another anniversary, which always puts me in a reflective mood. Lately, I've been thinking about what I've learned over the past several years of marriage.

We both work hard at have a marriage that is fulfilling and successful. But, since this is PlanetSandra, my point of view will prevail. But, I think my Sweetie would agree with me.

I cannot take all the credit for these revelations. They're the result of observation and conversation. I love to ask happily married couples what's their secret. Not so surprisingly, there have been a few recurring themes -- communication, respect, God/faith, common interests, making each other a priority.

Men and women do not speak the same language! Married people need to be bi-lingual -- men need to speak Womanese and women need to speak Manglish. These are not just verbal languages, they encompass all areas of communication -- body language, inflection, tone, etc. Learn to communicate with your partner in a meaningful way.

Do you, Boo! Do what works for your marriage, regardless of what anyone else says. Sure, you can learn from others, but find your own rhythm and do what works for the two of you.

Give your spouse of the gift of getting along with your in-laws. Unless they're clinically insane, find something about your in-laws you can like. Don't force your spouse to choose between you and their family. The flipside of this lesson is: Take up for your spouse. If there is a problem with the in-laws, advocate for your spouse. Don't let them be bullied by your family. (I need to add this is not a problem in our family. My in-laws are wonderful)

Sometimes, let your sweetie win. No one likes to be on the losing end of an argument, all the time. Let the other person have their way and keep a good attitude about it.

Be a rhinocerous! What I mean to say is, don't be thin-skinned. If there are two ways to take something your spouse has said, and one way is kind, loving, nurturing, and supportive -- take it that way.

I could probably go on, but these are things I really try to incorporate into my daily life. Rev. Diane, if you read this -- you do good work!

I Would Remember That!

2010-04-08T11:40:00.000-07:00

What I do remember is standing at the kitchen sink when Jordan said it. It was February 28. We were discussing the dedication of their baby. The exchange went something like this --

Him: We didn't tell you, you guys were the godparents?

Me (eyebrows furrowed): No.

Him: I'm sure we mentioned it when he was born.
Me (excited, but looking puzzled): No. I would have remembered that!

Him: Of course we want you guys to be his godparents.
Me (trying not to cry): We would love to be his godparents.

I was so overcome with emotion, I was speechless. We're Noah's godparents.

Me (yelling into the next room): Tim! We're Noah's godparents!

On the outside, I'm sure I was smiling. Inside my head, I'm practicing.

Our godson is visiting for the weekend.

We'd love to come to your thing, but we can't. We're attending our godson's thing.

Oh, him? He's our godson.

Would you mind if our godson joined us?

In retrospect, it makes perfectly good sense they would ask us. No, really. Besides his parents, I'm pretty certain we have more pictures of this kid than anyone else. He's only about 8 monts old, and we have taken at least a 100 pictures of him. If they didn't ask us to be godparents, it would just be creepy. So, they had to ask.

I'm Rich!

2010-04-06T17:02:00.000-07:00

We're trying to buy a house. We're just in the beginning stages, but it would certainly be easier if money were no object.

It's not that we're looking for a fancy home, but we happen to live where real estate, any real estate is expensive. Because money is a factor, I started thinkin' about things in my life that have no bearing on the amount of money I have:

My mom would still think I was amazing and could do anything I set my mind to. I wonder if she knows that I'm flying by the seat of my pants, most of the time.

I would still receive the most amazing birthday cards from Hollise and Donnalee. And, they insist I am everything their cards say I am. If they're right, I am sumthin' special!

When Kim is having a bad day, she would call me to vent, to be encouraged, and to be reminded that she's awesome (she is!). This makes me feel humble and powerful, at the same time.

Even though they're my friends, Glenda and Petrain always ask about my Sweetie and remind me to be good to him. They tell me "Sandra, let that man have his say!" I do!

I still married well. My husband's parents and family really make me feel like I'm one of them.

Carrie and Jordan would still blow me away with their request that we be godparents to their son.

No matter how upscale the neighborhood, Christian will always announce himself, loudly, with "Ma, it's me!"

Where it counts, I'm rich!

I Can't Help Myself

2010-03-08T22:13:00.000-08:00

One of my goals was to read at least one book each month in 2010. It's only March and I'm already 2 months behind.

The first book I planned to read only has 169 pages and I just can't seem to find the time. Ok, that's not exactly truthful. If I quit watching reruns of The Office, I would have time to read. But I can't. This show is LOL, slap your thighs, hold your side -- funny! And highly addictive. Whenever my Sweetie hears me laughing out loud, he knows I'm watching The Office. I TiVo episodes on every television in the house, so I can watch whether I'm in bed or in the family room.

My girl, Kisha, tried to get me to watch this show when it first started. But, I said No. I should have listened to her. Now, she's telling me I should watch Arrested Development. No. If I start watching another show, I'll never get caught up on my reading. Right now, I'm only 2 months behind, there's still hope that I could catch up.

I just need to focus and get down to business. That's what she said.

I Choose the Light

2010-03-07T15:08:00.000-08:00

God is so good! Today, I felt myself being pulled, no, pushed, into a funky mood. Lately, I've just been feeling a bit overwhelmed and off-kilter.

Recent working-related events and personal commitments were about to overwhelm me and I felt a grayness coming over me. In my head, I was thinking, no, praying, Lord, please don't let me slip into grayness. I need to see the Light.

And, just like that (snap!), God showed me that while I may have a lot on my plate, I have a lot of help.

I recently suffered a setback at work. A major setback. My boss' reaction was to encourage me and be supportive. He could have taken a really hard line and been very "un": un-reasonable, un-sympathetic and un-relenting. But, he wasn't.
I'm the editor of my service group's newsletter. A mass mailing of almost 600 newsletters coincided with an unexpected business trip. How in the hell am I supposed to mail 600 newsletters when I'm 300 miles away?! Here's how: one friend volunteers to pick up everything from the printer and deliver it to my house; another friend volunteers to coordinates a crew to assemble and mail them; my husband couriers assembled newsletters to the post office and picks up more stamps.

Instead of being in a gray, funky mood and feeling overwhelmed, I decided to feel over-blessed: I have a job I love and a boss who is supportive; I have friends who jump right in and help me; and most of all I have a husband who knows that "love" is an action word.

Matthew 5:16 tells us that we should let our light shine, do good works and God will be glorified. I wonder if my friends knew it was their shining light and good works that would remind me of God's goodness. So, grayness, go away from this place! It is only God's Light that I will see and allow to overtake me.

Leaving Las Vegas

2010-03-06T19:43:00.000-08:00

That's the best part about Las Vegas.

The casinos are smoke-filled, dark, noisy, and smelly. I hate the fact that I leave smelling like I rubbed cigarette ashes all over me.

This trip was only made tolerable by The Signature at MGM Grand. Located right off the trip, on the MGM Grand property, this hotel was fabulous! Great rates. Valet parking. Outstanding Customer Service. Private Entrance. Large rooms. No casino. No smoking. No noise. FAB-U-LOUS!

I think I actually enjoyed this trip to Vegas.

What is it with Vegas and its strip malls? If a place isn't in or adjacent to a casino, it's in a strip mall. On my way out of town, I decided to forego breakfast at the Peppermill and headed over to a small joint called Jamm's (y'all know how I love a 'joint'). The corned-beef hash was home made, potatoes were crispy, and the service was friendly.

Maybe Las Vegas isn't such a bad place after all.

One Down. . .

2010-02-17T02:05:00.000-08:00

. . .just a few more to go.

This year, one of my goals was to visit the Norton Simon Museum. We've driven by this museum dozens of times since living in the SGV.

It was so worth it! We saw paintings by Picasso (Woman with a Book, pictured), sketches by Rembrandt, and the stunningly beautiful Comtesse d'Haussonville by Ingres (pronounced Ang), which was on loan.

Whenever I visit museums, I'm always surprised at how vivid the paintings are. Many of these paintings dated from the 14th century, but the color was still so vivid -- you could see the brush strokes on the canvas. One of my favorites was this Still Life with Lemons, Oranges and a Rose, by Francisco Zubaran. You can actually see the texture on the skin of the lemons!

I can't wait to visit again and explore the grounds and see more of the Asian art.

Love is You!

2010-02-16T17:35:00.000-08:00

What a surprise -- my sweetie made real plans for Valentine's Day!

We've never made a big deal about Valentine's Day. A card. Maybe a small, inexpensive gift. I cook at home and we enjoy a delicious, unhurried, dinner.

But this year, my Sweetie surprised me with tickets to see John Legend in concert. Several months ago, I purchased one of his CD's and Sweetie just fell in love with it! He played it all the way to New Mexico. Continuously. For 800 miles. Finally, I couldn't take it any more and had to ask for a break. (Road Trip rules state the driver controls the music).

I think because we usually don't make a big deal of Valentine's Day, it was a special treat to get dressed up and go out. It's weird, but there's something nice about standing in the driveway, all dressed up, knowing you're just a car ride away from a good time. And John Legend didn't disappoint.

I Feel Like. . .

2010-02-09T19:10:00.001-08:00

. . .peanut butter without the jam. . .macaroni with no cheese. . .Abbott sans Costello. . .

This past summer, I began participating in a community-organized mentoring program. I took my job as mentor very seriously -- meeting with the parent and the child at her home before we were officially partnered; talking with the Program Coordinator; asking people who know me very well whether they thought I could be a mentor; setting up a regular schedule for our meetings. I even had to be fingerprinted.

Everything was going great for several months. We went to the movies, cooked, played video games, and went to the library. As part of the program, we did even more fun stuff, like hiking, visiting the Aquarium of the Pacific, and attending an Angels baseball game. I was having a great time and so was mini-me (that's what I called my mentee). Then CRASH!! Things stopped going so great -- mini-me started missing our scheduled "dates" and the parent wouldn't call me.

On at least half-dozen ocassions, I attempted to speak with the parent. I thought maybe we needed to adjust our schedule and pick a more convenient time for our activities. Finally, after getting no response, I had to speak to the Program Coordinator. He made several attempts with the same results -- no response.

So, now I'm a mentor with no mini-me. I'm sad.

A Weight Has Been Lifted

2010-02-08T19:44:00.000-08:00

CJ moved out. It's like a 170-lb. weight has been lifted off my back.

Is it wrong that I'm absolutely giddy? He's been back at home for less than a year, but it just seems like its been so much longer. My kid has so many good qualities -- funny, kind, compassionate -- and he's a great friend to everyone who knows him.

But he's still 21 and goofy as hell!

I've been listening to everything our friends and family have been saying and I know he's just like other 21 year old boys. But, this is what goes through my mind when I look at him: This is somebody's husband and father?!

He is so not ready to be anybody's husband or father. Husbands and fathers need to be dependable, rational, and selfless. He's none of those things. Some girl is going to blame me! And it's not my fault! CJ got (and continues to receive) plenty of attention, love, discipline, and guidance.

Like generations of parents before us, we'll just continue to pray, have him over for Sunday dinner and send him home with plenty of leftovers; listen patiently, smile, and nod at his latest (goofy) idea; and let him do the ocassional load of laundry at our house.

When he leaves, we'll hug each other and do the happy dance. WhooHoo!

My Own Undercover Boss!

2010-02-08T18:35:00.000-08:00

Recently, I was looking forward to seeing a new television show: Undercover Boss. I know it was probably heavily edited and sappy, but the premise was appealing -- an executive goes undercover to work with the hourly employees of the company.

I missed the show, but I had my own "Undercover Boss" experience. A new customer has been having some problems and it required the coordination of Sales (me), Manufacturing, Quality, Transportation and Customer Service to try to resolve the situation.

After weeks of making a little headway and having a bigger setback, I felt as if I had exhausted all of my skills and resources trying to fix the many problems that cropped up. I had nothing else to throw at the situation. I told my boss I needed him to get into the trenches and manage a specific situation. To his, credit, he immediately stepped in.

He had no idea it would, literally, consume 2 days. He took on the responsibility of exchanging phone calls and emails, waiting for data, coordinating resources, etc. You get the idea. All this went on while I just observed. After all was said and done, he said: Before, I knew what you went through, now I really know.

Now, unlike the show, my situation didn't involve secrecy, but my boss did have to get involved in the day-to-day details of my work. It felt good to be validated and have my hard work acknowledged.

A raise would be good, too.

Older AND Wiser

2010-01-05T11:15:00.000-08:00

I hope.

Recently, I was chatting with a friend who's celebrating her 40th birthday this year. WhooHoo!! We were saying how turning 40 brings some changes in your attitude and point of view.

That conversation got me to thinking about what I've learned over my lifetime. More precisely, whether I've acquired any wisdom. We know a lot of stuff, but do we let the knowing dictate our behavior? To me, when you let the knowing affect your behavior, that's wisdom.

Here's some of the wisdom I've acquired:

Sometimes, it's ok to say absolutely nothing. Rarely, will you have to apologize, backpedal, or eat crow for saying nothing. An added benefit is that silence will ocassionally allow you to prevail. While attending Community College, I petitioned an instructor to change my grade from a 'B' to an 'A'. I left her a brief voicemail explaining why I thought the change was warranted. I don't recall exactly what I said when she returned my call, but I probably wasn't very nice. . .blah. . .blah. . .blah. When I finally allowed her to speak, she said she had already decided to make the change based on my initial phone call, but that my additional comments were unwarranted and disconcerting.

I don't always get to know "Why?". When you're 20, you need to have things resolved tidily. When you're 40, you're at peace with the not knowing; sometimes, you're not even interested in the "Why?". You move on. You get over it.

High School isn't important. About 20 years ago, an acquantenance's 14-year old son killed himself. The aftermath was so traumatic, the mother developed a stutter. Sadly, this kid didn't get to realize that what goes on in high school -- being popular, athletic, cool, etc. -- doesn't mean sh**!! Most of us have forgotten about it by the time we graduate from college. For the vast majority of us, high school experiences are so forgettable and have little bearing on the person we ultimately become.

It's a good thing Life isn't fair. If life were fair, we'd all get everything we deserved, every single time. Knowing what I know, just the thought of that is terrifying. I am so relieved and grateful Life cuts me some slack.

Loving another adult unconditionally is unnatural (and stupid!). If you're older than 5, you've got to earn (my) love! Develop standards for the way people treat you and impose them. Knowing that love can be lost motivates me to demonstrate that I am worthy (and I am) to have it.

Treat everyone respectfully; be nice. These go hand-in-hand. Don't be nicer to the President (of the company) than you are to the janitor. While living in St. Louis, I used to wave across the cul de sac to one of my neighbors (an older woman whom I hadn't met and hadn't seen up close). On my first visit to a new hair salon, the receptionist (an older woman) said there was a mix-up with my appointment and the stylist couldn't see me. I was steeming -- I'd left work early, fought traffic, and drove past my house to get here -- but I didn't say anything, kept a calm demeanor, and resisted the urge to 'give that receptionist a piece of my mind'. She asked me to have a seat and sent over another stylist. The other stylist very calmly explained the reason for the mix-up, apologized, and asked if I would mind if she did my hair. I nodded sympathetically and consented. Turns out, the receptionist was the neighbor to whom I waved across the cul de sac; she made the connection when I gave them my contact info. She introduced us to her family and let Christian stay at her home when I worked late. The stylist was the salon owner; she and her husband invited us to their church and became a great resource in helping us settle into our new city. NOTE: While not everyone deserves your respect, they do deserve to be treated respectfully.

Hardwork really is its own reward. Your work is a representation of you. Don't be associated with crap! One of the best compliments my husband ever gave me (shortly before we married) was that I was one of the most hardworking people he knew.

Don't back a person into a corner; always leave the opportunity for a graceful exit. About 15 years ago, I had a disagreement with a co-worker; we were actually yelling at each other in the office. We barely spoke to each other for the remainder of my employment (I was there another 2-3 years). As I prepared to leave, she said, "You know, you were right that time we had that big disagreement. But, I was so worked up and threatened, I couldn't back down and tell you that."

In relationships, you will have to do some things you don't want to do. And since no one wants to hear your complaining, act like you're having a good time! Adults do what they need to do, not just what they want to do. If the relationship -- with your child, sibling, parent, neighbor, spouse, co-worker, etc. -- is important to you, do what you need to do to nuture it. The payoff is huge!

I'll leave you with this scripture from Proverbs about wisdom:

3:18 She is like a tree of life to those who obtain her, and everyone who grasps hold of her will be blessed.

Amen and thank God!

You Talkin' to Me?!

2010-01-02T15:07:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I'm talkin' to you! Get over here and let's get started -- time's awastin'!

I'm 2010, your New Year.

I've been reviewing your file. Looks like you made some decent progress under my predecessor:

July was a really good month with regard to your fitness goals. You rode your bike 19 times. Good job.

You and your Sweetie had regular date nights. Looks like he was really surprised by that trip to the OC Fair to see a hypnotist and Anita Baker. Nice.

Made time for travel and visited Seattle twice. Reconnected with some cousins. Sweet.

Became more comfortable in your own skin, had a bit of a mid-life crisis and cut your hair. That was a bit extreme, but to each his own.

Looking forward, I think you're on the right track. It's a good idea to carry over some of your old goals. Let me make a few suggestions:

Fitness: Keep riding the bike, but add more climbing. You're not getting any younger, so take your vitamins -- Calcium, Iron.

Community Service: I know this sometimes takes more time than you really have, but stick with it. Mentors do make a difference in a kid's life.

Family Time: It may not seem like it, but your efforts really are appreciated. Be sure to call your dad more often.

Personal Improvement: Usted habla espanol? Necesita practicar, cada dia!!

Marriage: Love the whole "date night" and the idea of surprising him, but cook those pork chops he likes more often, too.

And here are a few random items thrown in just for fun -- visit the Norton Simon Museum this Spring, you live so close, but you've never been; make time to go to the beach 2-3 times this Summer, I know how you love that; and take that belly dancing class, it'll be fun.

Well, I think this is enough to get you started. I'll be watching you, so. . .

Stay focused. Stay committed. Stay encouraged.

Optimistically yours,

2010

Goodbye, Old Friend

2010-01-01T14:24:00.001-08:00

Dear 2009,

I am so glad I met you! I knew our time together would be limited, so I tried to make the most of it. You certainly lived up to all the hype!

Thank you for helping me realize several goals and being so supportive and a bit of a hard-ass! You made me stay focused and forced me into action when I would have languished.

Together, we rode my bike much more consistently than I ever have! Because of you pushing me, I met my 'Biker Chicks' and made some great new friends in addition to meeting my fitness goals. I even managed to do group rides more frequently and improve my performance. And, I didn't even whine (ok, maybe just a little bit) whenever my Sweetie took my on some new, more challenging course. You turned every obstacle into a triumph!

If not for you, I doubt we would have traveled as much as we did. Early on in our relationship, you said I could do it, but I wan't sure. Of course, you were right! Listening to you, we visited the Grand Canyon, friends in Santa Fe, and met our, now, beloved Seattle relatives. I really stepped out of my comfort zone when I went horsebacking riding in Colorado. That one resulted in a minor injury, but I would do it all over again!

It was during your watch that my marriage hit its stride, I think. My Sweetie doesn't know it, but you encouraged me to be "even more nice" to him. You knew we were in the trouble spot for marriages -- that whole 7 year itch thing -- and persuaded me to spice things up. It worked! I was less argumentative, more understanding, and not nearly as high strung as I am prone to be. That idea you had about making 'Date Night' a regular part of our routine was absolutely genius! The payoff was that my Sweetie noticed this change in my behavior and was more attentive, responsive, and appreciative. Definitely a win-win situation!

As I close, I think I'm most grateful for the way you gave me the confidence to be myself and really be comfortable in my own skin. Cutting my hair was the manifestation of this newfound confidence! I still can't believe you talked me into that! Sure, it's good to set goals and strive to be better, but you made me see, I'm kinda awesome just like I am.

I will miss you, Old Friend, but the lessons you taught will be with me forever.

Lovingly yours,
Sandra

Daddy's Little Girl, Still

2009-12-28T11:40:00.000-08:00

I talked to my daddy today. Just hearing his voice makes me happy.

Me: Hi daddy. It's me!
My Dad: Hey, Baby!

Me (giggling): Do you even know who this is?
My Dad: Yeah, I know who this is. It's Sandra (not what he really calls me)

Me (still giggling): I love you, daddy!
My Dad: I love you a whole bunch, baby.

My Dad: Are you alright?
Me: I'm good, daddy. I just called to see how you were doing.

My dad has several daughters and we all sound alike to him, sometimes, on the telephone. He probably says the same thing to each of us. But, I know he means it every time.

I have no idea why I feel like crying right now. But, I don't let the tears come. My dad will hear it in my voice and think I'm sad. But, these aren't sad tears that are threatening to fall. My heart just misses my daddy and it's good to hear his voice.

My daddy did just what a daddy is supposed to do: He made me feel special and he made me feel safe.

You weren't going to push me down on the playground without there being some serious repercussions! Just ask the little boy who did! But, I still laugh when I remember my dad coming home and saying the boy pushed me down because he was going to marry me! Of course, I didn't get it then. But, that little boy never pushed me again. Luckily, my daddy taught me that men who love you, won't push you down.

We talk a bit longer and he tells me about teaching his caregiver to play cards and how he hasn't started betting on BINGO with the other seniors -- but he plans to! Reluctantly, I end our conversation.

Me: I'd better get back to work, but I love you, daddy. I'm coming to visit when the snow and ice melt.
My Dad: I love you, too, baby. I can't wait to see you.

Bye, daddy.

I would be remiss if I didn't give credit to my cousin, Patrice, who cares for my dad, allows him to live in the city he loves, and makes him put on a coat, hat, and scarf.

Shocking?! Hardly.

2009-12-10T21:22:00.001-08:00

I cannot help but talk about this. It seems all the men I know are in an uproar. The women, not so much.

Tiger Woods is just a man.

That's not an indictment; it's a statement of fact. I'm surprised so many of us are surprised at the recent turn of events. A man was unfaithful to his family.

Deplorable? Yes. Reprehensible? Yes. Surprising? Not even a little bit.

When the story first broke, my instinct told me there was about to be some drama. His wife broke the winshield with a golf club and pulled him from the wreck?

Seriously?

Jokingly, I told my Sweetie, Elin caused that accident when she swung that club at his head and struck the windows. She took a lesson from Jazmine Sullivan and, literally, busted the windows out his car. To date, Elin Woods has seemed rather bland to me. Her reaction is the only thing that shocked me.

Where is a married man going at 2:00 a.m.? No report of sick babies. There's no way Tiger drives himself to the airport. It's too dark to practice his golf swing or putting. Oh, yeah, there's definately about to be some drama.

It's not that I have a low opinion of men -- I don't. I do, however, have a realistic opinion of men.

A regular guy, with a regular job, and a regular life, is tempted to stray outside his marriage, regularly.

An extraordinary guy, with an extraordinary job, and an extraordinary life, is tempted to stray outside his marriage, extraordinarily.

Men who have achieved extraordinary success -- Tiger Woods, David Letterman, Michael Jordan, Hugh Hefner -- have done so because they are driven to succeed. I would also guess they have extraordinarily high levels of testosterone. So, when they are driven to overachieve in the area of sexual conquests or prowess, why are we surprised?

We should admire Tiger for his golfing abilities and discipline as an athlete. But, to put him on a pedestal as a shining example of a husband, is to set yourself up for disappointment.

Sadly, the Woods' will have to work out this most intimate situation in plain view of the entire world. Marriage is hard enough for us regular folks. We, at least, get to work our problems out in relative anonymity.

The Mess?!

2009-12-07T20:23:00.000-08:00

You have something on the menu called, The Mess?!

I did it again! I've visited another restaurant featured on my fav FoodNetwork show, DDD -- Schooner or Later. I cannot help myself -- I just love a dive!!

What's not to love -- if the food is horrible, you're only out of a few bucks; if it's good, you've found a great, inexpensive, place to eat!! My goal is to visit all of the SoCal locations and one in every city I visit.

Since this one was near my mom's place, I invited her to join me. My mom's sort of the Ethel to my Lucy -- she's usually pretty game for any of my adventures. Funny thing is, she usually thinks I have a plan. Usually, I so totally don't. HaHaHa! Anyway, this one is tame -- it's just breakfast.

The first time I tried to eat here, there was a 1.5 hour wait on a weekend morning. The only thing I will wait that long for is an organ donation. So, I left, dejected. This time, the place is full, but there are a few open tables.

When I mention to our server why we're there, she happily points out the items that were featured on the show. One of them is called, The Mess. My mom orders the half portion. The description says it all -- it arrives all jumbled on the plate looking like (wait for it. . .) a mess! It's not bad. Really. However, even a half portion was more than enough for my mom. I ordered the Eggs Benedict.

The server was nice, the coffee was decent, and the food wasn't bad. I'd eat there again. More importantly, having breakfast with my mom was well worth the $27.

Just Enough

2009-12-07T19:40:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving is over and December is well under way. I just love, love, love, the holiday season.

This year, we did the usual -- had a wonderful dinner with friends. As always, the turkey was the bomb-diggity!!

As I reflect on the year and appreciate my blessings, I find myself being grateful for something a bit unusual. Like most, I'm thankful for having a job (that I love) and for the health and well-being of my beloved. This year, though, I'm thankful for being just sick enough. That's right -- I'm thankful for being sick.

This year, I've suffered through a bad cold (fever, chills, aches), a head cold that caused me to completely lose my voice, and damage to my sciatic nerve and piriformis muscle (it's in your boom-boom). To make matters worse, each of these afflictions struck me at a most inopportune time -- just before a vacation, as I was helping to plan a fundraiser, and during a hectic time at work.

Each time, I recovered fully, with no ill after affects. But, being sick -- or just sick enough -- really allows one to appreciate good health. Oftentimes, I joke, I can't get sick, I don't have time! And, fortunately, God has complied with me. But, this year, it seems I was battling something every 3-4 months.

These bouts with illness and injury, reminded me it is such a blessing to get up each day and have your body respond appropriately. To turn over in bed (with no excruciating pain), yawn and breath deeply (with no nasal obstruction) and say "Good morning" (with no strain on your vocal chords) is a miracle!!

God, in His awesomeness, constructed us in such a way that we are able to do these things with such ease and comfort. It was in my inability to do these things that I had to admire God's genius. So, as I reflect on the passing year, and look forward to the next, I will rejoice and be glad for being just sick enough!

And I will wash my hands and take my vitamins.

Seein' Things That I May Never See Again. . .

2009-11-22T15:40:00.000-08:00

It's fairly common knowledge that I sometimes act like I don't have good sense. Case in point was this road trip. I thought it would be a good idea to drive to New Mexico, then work my way back home, calling on customers along the way.

As my Sweetie would say, In theory. . .seemed like a good idea. My motives were pure, though: It was a good way to see my more far-flung customers. And, I could see a bit of the Southwest. In theory, it was a win-win situation.

The reality is that no one with good sense -- and who knows they don't like to drive -- would have undertaken this! It was a terminally long drive -- over 2500 miles -- through some very desolate parts of the Southwest. But, that's really the only thing I can complain about.

If you ever have the option of taking Interstate 40 -- which stretches from Barstow, CA to Wilmington, SC -- DON'T!!

Whatever Plan B is, is probably a better option, even if it adds some miles to your trip. Interstate 40 is one dark, desolate, highway. It is bordered by nothing on either side for long stretches and runs through some very, very small towns. Maybe, as you head East, it becomes more populated and well lit, but not so much along the portion we traveled.

Having said that. . .

At the suggestion of a colleague, I decided the best strategy would be to drive out to the furthest destination and work my back. My Sweetie decided he would make the drive out to New Mexico with me, then fly home. Oooh, I just love that man!

We departed for Flagstaff, AZ and the Grand Canyon. Can you believe my Sweetie has never seen the Grand Canyon?! It was a whopping 34 degrees Farenheit when we arrived. My Sweetie swore he wasn't cold, except for his hands. Well, my hands, and everything else was freezing, and I was properly dressed. After snapping a few photos, we quickly left.

The next day, it was a sunny 50 degrees when we re-visited the Grand Canyon. This time, we were able to get lots of pictures and enjoy walking along the trails, a bit. We were smart enough to bring the tripod for the camera, so we could actually be in the same photo without having to ask strangers for help. But, we happily snapped pictures of other tourists.

When we arrived in Santa Fe, NM, we briefly visited with some friends. We had lunch at a great little place (actually, it's a feed store) where I had the most delicious chicken and green chile lasagna. They had turkeys, peacocks, and roosters all over the property. The turkeys didn't look the least bit worried, despite Thanksgiving being only a week away.

On the way to visit customers, I was shocked to see the rush hour traffic between Santa Fe and Albuquerque at 7:30 a.m. There's more traffic on my street!

Another astonishing thing about New Mexico was the beautiful, starry, sky. Sadly, city dwellers, like myself, see way too many cars on the highway and not nearly enough stars in the sky

New Mexico is were my Sweetie and I parted ways. He flew back home while I began calling on my customers throughout the Southwest.

Late in the afternoon -- too late, in retrospect -- I began the 6 hour drive to Phoenix, AZ. Thank goodness I actually like country music -- there's not much else playing on the radio. When even that signal gave out, I switched to books on tape. My time in Arizona ended with me having a breakfast meeting with a colleague at Matt's Big Breakfast, a place featured on one of my favorite Food Network Shows. The Eggs Benedict were delish and the hashbrowns were hot and crispy! Well worth the $12, including coffee!

On the drive to Las Vegas I made a few must-stops. It's not an "official" Road Trip, if you don't stop at a Cracker Barrell. Part of the fun is rocking in one of the chairs on the porch. When we lived in St. Louis, CJ and I ate here at least twice a month. If you're looking to add a signed guitar-shaped iron skillet to your Alan Jackson memorabilia collection, this is the place for you!

Just before hitting Boulder City, I had to stop for my first look at Hoover Dam. I didn't realize it was right on the border between Nevada and Arizona. Just as you reach the other side of the dam, you cross the state line.

Now, you know, What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, so I can't tell you much about what I did here. But, I can tell you this much: I had a great steak dinner and Martini! I can still hear the sizzle!

By the time I was done in Las Vegas, this lil' duck was ready to waddle home! Sightseeing throughout the Southwest was great, but I missed home -- my Sweetie, my son, my friends, and my bed! Sleeping in one's own bed is truly an under-rated luxury.

For now, I think I've had my fill of Road Trips, but then again, I hear the Oregon Coast is beautiful in the Spring. . .

A Clean Office!

2009-11-12T22:55:00.000-08:00

I finally did it! I've been trying to clean my office for months. No, really, for months. And, at 10pm today, it was clean. Look, here's a picture of me sitting in it:

There just seemed to be so much stuff! Most of that stuff was junk mail -- we get a lot of it. With all the news about identity theft, I can't just toss it -- it must be shredded. It's hard to believe someone would go through my trash to get personal information about me, but it happens.

If they just asked, I could save them a lot of trouble. Here's what a person could learn about me by going through my trash:

I don't cook regularly. We eat a lot of take-out.
I tear my dryer sheets in half. That's all you need for most loads.
I use a lot of dental floss. I prefer the waxed variety.
I drink coffee every day. Coarsely ground.
The toner I use on my face is blue. It smells good, too.
I use 2 bottles of hair conditioner for every 1 bottle of shampoo.

That's about all there is to know. I'll sit in my clean office and see if I can't come up with anything else.

He Looks Normal. . .

2009-11-06T20:40:00.000-08:00

But, he's really not. We just love, love, love, our son and are immensely proud of his decision to be a Marine. But, I need to love him from afar. Living in our house, he's driving me crazy!! He looks normal. But, he's goofy as hell!

The scary thing is, he's not unique! Strangers and friends, alike, have related stories about their crazy kids -- mostly boys. One guy, to his wife's displeasure, told us he thought someone had beat their kid with a stupid stick when he turned 18! I still LOL whenever I think about that!

What is it about boys that makes them forego reasoning skills? Admittedly, I've been described as 'high strung', but here are a few things that make me bonkers:

He complained the shower in the bathroom wasn't getting hot. It was ice cold (his words). I turned the knob to the 'hot' position and watched the shower steam up with the heat generated by the hot water.

Why do you, routinely, put (1) article of clothing in the dryer?

Could you please, for the love of good housekeeping, plug my Swiffer back in when you're done?! And don't make me look all over the house for it, only to find it (with batteries dead) propped against the wall behind your bedroom door!

How do you make red Kool-Aid, spill some of it on the white counter tops, on the tan floor , or in the bottom of the white refrigerator, and not see it until one of us points it out to you?

If you drink all but the last two ounces of milk, shouldn't you just finish it off and throw the empty container away, instead of putting it back in the refrigerator?

When we point out these things, we get the look from him. Any parent of teenagers knows this look. The one that begs the question, Why are you inferior mortals bothering me?

Sadly, no one I've spoken to knows how to "fix" him. Everyone says, He'll grow out of it. It's just a phase all boys go through. In a word, we should just wait. Wait. Dr. M. L. King wrote an essay from jail about waiting. Like us, he was tired of it.

Well, I'm going through a phase, too. It's the phase in my life where I thought I'd be visiting my son, in his unkempt apartment across town. Maybe I'd wash a few dishes because the kitchen was a mess, then leave to go home to my house -- where there's nothing spilled on the floor, my Swiffer is fully charged and stored exactly where it should be, and there's actually milk in the carton in the refrigerator.

"I See!", Said the Blind Man

2009-11-03T18:56:00.000-08:00

I had an illuminating discovery. Or, an epiphany.

We had an event to attend and I thought I might buy a new dress -- if I could find something I liked and it was on sale. For whatever reason, my Sweetie decided to go with me. Nothing too unusual about that.

After looking and not finding anything, I was ready to leave. Half jokingly, he said, We're leaving already? You didn't get anything. I laughed and said they didn't have anything I liked. He said, I'll find something for you.

In about 2 minutes he was holding up this dress with a pretty print, but it was not anything I'd ever pick for myself. This dress was cut down to there in the front and was almost backless! This was definitely the 'freakum dress' Beyonce is talking about! I laughed and said, Quit playing!

This is where the epiphany comes in. He's not playing! Right there in the store, it dawned on me that my husband sees me as this hot chick! I'm not a hot chick. I'm a 40-something mom. Not that moms aren't attractive; I think I'm attractive. I just don't think I'm a hot chick. But he does. OMG!!

He is insisting we buy this dress. I actually do think the dress is pretty -- nice print, bright colors. I figure, Fine, I'll just return it when he's not around.

We get home and he insists I try it on right now. Right now. Ok, but then I have to finish getting packed for a business trip tomorrow morning.

I get the dress on and get everything situated -- don't act like you don't know what I'm talkin' about! He goes absolutely ga-ga! He says, Now that you have it on, we're going out. The smile freezes on my face. In my head, I'm screaming, I can't wear this dress outside with other people looking at me! But, he's not taking 'no' for an answer. I'm wracking my brain trying to think of ways to disuade him, when I remember I have a pretty wrap that will cover everything nobody else needs to see.

We had a FAN-TAB-U-LOUS time! My Sweetie was so attentive and affectionate all evening. He couldn't take his eyes off me. I was utterly shocked to realize how he sees me. More importantly, I'm shocked to realize what he doesn't see -- the figure flaws I try desperately to hide. My inner voice is saying, Hello, girlie, the man don't see 'em!!

Even the restaurant manager was complimentary -- he sent over drinks, stopped by the table several times to chat, and made unsolicited recommendations. It had to be "the dress".

For me, the takeaway from this was a new self-awareness and the realization not everyone else sees me the way I see me. I think I'll work on seeing myself through his eyes more often. I may even wear "the dress" again.

When Did That Happen?!

2009-11-03T16:15:00.000-08:00

Where was I when Halloween became a major holiday?!

By major, I mean, spiders the size of a small car affixed to the side of the house and roof, house and yard converted to a cemetary, a special effects haunted house in the back yard, and holographic images and scary movies projected onto the garage door.

When did we get away from a single carved pumpkin on the porch, rubber bats hanging in the window, and fake spiders and cobwebs in the doorway?

As a kid, my costume consisted of my mom making up my face, putting her big loop earrings in my ear, tying a colorful scarf around my head, dressing me in a puffy white blouse and peasant skirt, putting a fancy belt around my waist and bracelets on my wrists -- voila I was a gypsy! I was about 6.

We went knocking door-to-door on our street and in our immediate neighborhood. That was it. We didn't pile into the car and drive across town, for "good" candy. I didn't know there was "bad" candy. I got to play dress-up. People gave me candy just for ringing the doorbell, smiling, and yelling trick-or-treat! I got to stay up late. Nothing bad about any of that!

Ok, maybe anything licorice-flavored and that orange candy corn could be considered "bad".

And just how old are trick-or-treaters supposed to be? 5? 7? 9? Half the kids I saw trick-or-treating were either too young to walk (isn't candy a choking hazard?!) or in high school. If you can't say trick-or-treat, have breasts, or facial hair, you probably should not be trick-or-treating!

I'm not sayin' we shouldn't let the kids celebrate Halloween. I'm just sayin' it seems like we've gone a bit overboard. But, what do I care, we weren't even at home.

Shhhh!

2009-11-02T21:52:00.001-08:00

Summer's over and my mini-me (that's what I call the young lady I mentor) is back in town. During one of our outings, we went to the library. I grabbed a stack of reading material from the adult section, then headed to the children's section with her.

After perusing the bookshelves, she decided on a few books to read. We settled down at a nice corner table, near a window. A few minutes later, 2 adults and 2 kids settled at the adjacent table. They started talking. Loudly. Really loudly.

IR-RI-TA-TING. I couldn't concentrate on my own reading.

I got the attention of a passing librarian and asked, "Are we in the tutoring section? Those people (pointing at them) are talking so loudly". The librarian laughed and said, "The library isn't as quiet as it used to be. It's more a place to gather socially, now". Then, she recommended a few quiet (allegedly) corners in other parts of the library.

Since when aren't people supposed to be quiet in the library?! If you want to be sociable, go to Starbuck's!

Moving wasn't an option -- the age-appropriate books for mini-me were nearby and the paranoid in me wouldn't let her out of my sight (good mentors are not supposed to lose their mentees). I thought about whipping out my cell phone and having a loud, obnoxious, conversation with an imaginary friend. But I didn't.

Fortunately the noisy offenders left. However, this situation made me wonder, Whatever became of your library voice?! I used that expression countless time when CJ was little -- in restaurants, at the movie theater, while visiting museums, etc. Use your library voice. Instantly, he would begin to speak in a whisper. Today, it must mean speak loudly and enunciate clearly, so that every syllable bounces off the reflective surfaces surrounding us.

Ok, I may be over-dramatizing, but am I really wrong for expecting the library to be a quite, soothing, place, where everyone speaks softly?

I Aggrevated What?!

2009-10-26T18:06:00.000-07:00

Recently, I aggrevated a nerve/muscle in my boom-boom. I don't think I even knew I had a butt-muscle (that's what my friend, a nurse, calls it). The result was severe, stabbing, pain -- the kind of pain that makes a tear fall and causes perspiration to break out in the 'lady moustache' on your upper lip. I wouldn't wish this type of injury on anyone (well, maybe just one person!)

Any movement involving my leg was affected. Walking, moving to/from a standing/seated position was excruciating. As was trying to get in/out of the car. And sleeping was out of the question -- I had to sleep flat on my back with a pillow underneath my leg. I know I woke Tim up everytime I inadvertently shifted position and yelled out in pain.

The doctor prescribed some meds, recommended some stretching exercises, and said I should be fine, soon. Lucky for me I don't have an addictive personality, because the muscle relaxers (aka magic pills) are wonderful. They certainly do what the name implies. My doctor said they might make me drowsy. Yeah, right! They definitely made me drowsy, slurred my speech, and took away my reasoning abilities!

When I had to accept my neighbor's offer to borrow an unused cane, I knew I had reached the pinnacle of pififulness (is that a word?). But, you know, it really helped! As much as I wanted to resist having to use it, it was my lifeline. It's hard to be prideful, when you can't turn on your heels and walk away in a huff!

So, I hobbled around town with my cane -- took it to the movies, where the manger ushered me to a seat while Tim got our tickets; took it to a charity event where I didn't have to work quite as hard; and I took it to Sunday Brunch, where it got us a prime seat near the window and the waiter propped my leg up on an adjacent chair. I probably should have felt guilty over the preferential treatment, but I didn't. Is that wrong?!

Thankfully, I got over my injury fairly quickly and could retire the cane. I don't get the preferential treatment when we go out, but I'm not in excruciating pain, either. All-in-all, a more than fair trade-off.

I Do!

2009-10-07T22:17:00.000-07:00

This was waiting for me when I got home yesterday.

It's a wedding band. I lost mine several months ago while on a Mexican Riviera cruise. The realization I had lost my wedding band was horrible. I cried.

This one is different from my original band. This one is exactly like the one my Sweetie wears now. Funny thing, he never really liked the band I picked. I loved it. I love this one, too. We always said the three separate bands that composed his ring stood for: loving one another, trusting one another, longing for one another

My wedding band is the tangible reminder that I'm part of a team. I think I value the band more than the engagement ring. The engagement ring is a promise of what's to come; the wedding band is the manifestation of that promise.

Having that gold band on the second finger of my left hand reminded me that I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine (Song of Solomon 6:3). Those are the words I used to sign my cards and letters to him when we were apart during our engagement and those are the words I said to him on the day I became his wife.

I know not having the ring doesn't make us any less married, but the idea of someone else having that ring and not respecting what it symbolizes makes me sad. If they respected it, they would have returned it. It was, obviously, a wedding band.

My morning routine will be righted, again: brush teeth, shower, put on make-up, slip my wedding band onto my finger. Again, everyone will know, I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.

Absolutely Speechless!

2009-10-04T15:50:00.000-07:00

That's what this dessert did to me -- made me speechless! All I could say, was Mmmmm! Mmmmm!

All of my senses were bombarded with goodness -- it looked delectable, it smelled inviting, I could hear my heart beating with anticipation of the goodness to come, it felt good on my tongue, and it tasted incredible!! Finally, I found the words to describe this experience:

This is the best thing I have ever put in my mouth!

This must be what God has with His coffee! This pie is just that good.

NOTE: You need to stop reading this, hop on the next flight to Seattle, steal a car, and get to Dahlia Bakery, Dahlia Lounge, or Lola's and get yourself some of this pie! Seriously!

We absolutely love visiting our Seattle relatives. To commemorate our last night in town, I wanted to treat everyone to a special dinner. So, when Mary suggested we have dinner at Ivar's and coffee and dessert at Dahlia's Lounge, we said, "Cool!" Dinner was good, but dessert was PHE-NOM-E-NAL!

Our waitress delivered this fluffy looking dessert, that at first glance, I thought, "This serving is huge." I almost wanted to cry when I ate the last bite. My taste buds were actually sad. I thanked our cousins, profusely, for introducing us to this place and this dessert. On the way out, I whispered to my Sweetie, We are definitely coming back here the next time we're in town!

After we got home from our evening out, the head cold I was fighting got the better of me, so I went to bed early and slept late the next morning. When I woke up I didn't have much of an appetite, so Tim and I set out to enjoy our last day on empty stomachs.

By the time we were hungry, we were in Downtown Seattle, just a few blocks from Lola's. So we went in for breakfast. As we were finishing, the waiter asked if we wanted dessert. I jokingly said, "Who orders dessert after breakfast?" (It was about 12 noon, actually). Tim said, "Sure, we'll look at a dessert menu." Very casually, the waiter said, "Oh, in addition to our regular dessert items we have some non-published items. . .blah, blah, blah. . .and the Triple Coconut Cream Pie from Dahlia Lounge."

Instantly, my ears perked up. What was that last thing you said? He repeated himself. We sent him away to get menu's, but I was already having a hard time hiding my giddiness. Tim declined, but I knew what I was having -- a little slice of heaven!

I stepped away to wash up and when I returned it was there! The pie from heaven is waiting for me. I really think I am singing out loud -- this is going to be so good, look at it! I dig in and my whole body is made happy -- all the way down to my pedicured toes, which are now curled up in excitement.

Thankfully, it's as good as I remember. Maybe better. The shaved white chocolote is good. The toasted coconut is good. The whipped cream is fluffy and good. The custard is good. The crust is good. All together, it really is the best tasting thing I have ever put in my mouth. E-VER!

Every single bite is savored, but it's finally down to the last one. Sadly, I put it on my fork, gaze at it lovingly, then resolve to remember this sensation until I'm back in Seattle.

Lola's, Dahlia Bakery, Dahlia Lounge, Etta's, Palace Kitchen and Serious Pie are all restaurants owned by Seattle Chef, Tom Douglas. On our next trip to Seattle, I intend to eat at each of them. Oh, yeah!

Seriously?

2009-10-03T14:48:00.001-07:00

My Sweetie told me not to blog about this, so don't tell him.

Last night, we had date night and went to see Surrogates, with Bruce Willis (it was just a'ight for me, dawg -- picture me impersonating Randy Jackson from American Idol).

As we entered the foyer to purchase tickets, I remarked, "Someone has burned the popcorn (it was smelling up the place)".

We arrived nice and early -- I like to see the previews of upcoming movies -- and the auditorium wasn't very crowded (should have taken this as a sign). I got our seats while my Sweetie went for the popcorn.

He comes back with a large bag overflowing with popcorn -- YumYum! Or, so I think.

The popcorn is burnt. I can actually see burnt pieces in the bag. It smells burnt. It smells burnt and it looks burnt.

Me: This popcorn is burnt. Didn't you notice it was burnt?

Him (with a mouthful): Is it?

Me: Couldn't you taste that it was burnt?

Him: It's burnt?

Me (pointing): These pieces are black.

Him: You think it's burnt?

Me (Looking at him crazy): Yes. Why didn't you ask for some freshly popped, unburnt, popcorn?

Him (Still not getting that it's burnt): You think it's burnt?

At this point, I'm not angry, but I am having serious doubts about his senses of taste and smell. Is loss of senses a sign of a stroke or heart attack?

I take the bag out of his hand, leave the theater, and return with a bag of freshly popped, unburnt, popcorn. Which he proceeds to devour.

Men!

Nappy Hair Is Good Hair!

2009-10-02T17:45:00.000-07:00

I don't often watch Oprah, but I watched the recent episode featuring Chris Rock. He was promoting his new docu-comedy "Good Hair", which chronicles Black womens relationship with their hair.

The content of the brief excerpts I saw struck a chord with me. Until recently, I was addicted to the "creamy crack" (aka perm) and hair weaves, just like many Black women. My own hair wasn't even short (here's how it looked just before we cut it), but the weave was just so convenient. One stylist summed it up: Weaves ain't just for bald-headed girls, no more!

Hair maintenance was both expensive and enslaving. I'm too embarassed to even say how much money and time I spent (wasted?) maintaining my hair. I planned vacations, social events, and business trips around my hair appointments. But, it wasn't until my mid-30's, that I got wiser and refused to see stylists who couldn't see me on time! Even then, a weave or a perm or braids takes time. In an attempt to manage my 'treated' hair, I tried them all.

I know "enslaving" is a strong word to describe my relationship with my hair, but that's exactly what it was. My mom has "good" hair -- straight, soft -- and she's worn it ultra short for the past 30 years. My sister, who also has a softer texture than me, has cut her hair short, too. I was just too afraid. Just the idea of cutting my hair was frightening! I was the one in the family with the thick, kinky, nappy, hair. Even though I thought natural hair, locks, twists, etc., looked good on my friends and other women, I just couldn't do it. In retrospect, even as I write, this sounds so pitiful -- it's only hair!

After more than a year of thinking about it, talking about it, and researching my options, it was my husband who finally just said, "Do it! What are you waiting for?" So, just before Mother's Day, I took the plunge and cut it.

Almost immediately, I truly felt emancipated -- no more perms, weaves, curling irons, flat irons; no more worring about sweating my hair out, getting rough edges, or straightening my nappy "kitchen". I could ride my bike, learn to swim (finally), go to the spa -- all without worrying about my hair or having to spend hours fixing it afterwards. And packing for trips is a breeze -- my armory of hair care products and paraphernalia has been reduced to two small, lightweight bottles and a brush. Now, I can acually use the shampoo and conditioner in my hotel room -- Whoo Hoo!

And you know what else? I think my husband likes it better, now. Really likes it. Recently, out of the blue, he said, "You are really rockin' that short hair."

Ooooh, I just love that man!!

I still go to the salon, but I only go about every 4-6 weeks and I'm in and out in about 45 minutes -- no joke!! When I get out of the shower, it takes me all of 5 minutes to moisturize and brush my hair. I am frrrreeeeeeee!! I don't even know where my flat iron is!

Hair as short as mine is now isn't for everyone. Heck, I wasn't completely convinced it was for me, until I did it. And, maybe I will let my hair grow back. Just not any time soon. Right now, I like rockin' my thick, nappy, short hair.

I Can't Hear You!

2009-09-30T23:56:00.001-07:00

I can't be sick, I'm going on vacation in two days!

That's exactly what I thought when I woke up last Tuesday morning with a scratchy, irritated, throat; nasal congestion, and minor body aches. Thankfully, the doctor said it was just a cold and not the flu.

But, I completely lost my voice. Completely.

The prognosis: Don't talk. Don't whisper. At all.

The doctor then asks, What do you do for a living? When I tell her (in a whisper) that I'm a sales rep, she actually laughs. She says, I should be ok to travel, but I need to stop talking and get some rest.

Thankfully, my boss and colleagues are understanding (some are even sympathetic) and I take the next 1.5 days off work before I leave for a week's vacation. Between my Sweetie's TLC, soup, cold meds, throat lozenges, and lot's of hot tea, I really do feel better by Thursday morning. But, I still can't talk. Not even a little.

To his credit, my Sweetie doesn't gloat even a little bit over my inability to speak. Not to my face, anyway. I do know he and my boss exchanged a few emails about how this is like having Christmas come early. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Actually, I'm kind of enjoying not talking. One of my favorite bible scriptures is Exodus 14:14 which says (roughly) the Lord will fight for you while you keep silent. So, being silent isn't such a bad thing. Maybe God is acting on my behalf and needs me to stay quiet and stay out of His way. I can do that.

I finally got my voice back mid-way through our trip. It was nice to be able to talk, again. But, being quiet is nice, too.

We Love You, Seattle!

2009-09-30T23:09:00.000-07:00

We just returned from another FAN-TAB-U-LOUS vacation with our Seattle Cousins! If I'd known my husband had such wonderful relatives, I would have married him sooner!

Earlier this year, we visited Seattle and reconnected with my Sweetie's cousins. That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship -- with them and their wonderful city! We love Mary, Henry, and Seattle!

Like our visit earlier this year, the weather was just beautiful -- sunny, breezy, and clear skies. We thought our cousins showed us everything there was to see last time, but we were surprised to learn there was so much more to see and do in/around Seattle.

We managed to squeeze a whole lot of fun into our (seemingly) short trip -- day trips to Bainbridge Island and Mount Rainier; visits to the Burke and Flight Museums. Our trip coincided with National Museum Day, so admission was free to dozens of museums around the city.

Seattle is synonymous with fresh seafood and coffee and we indulged in both! In addition to Mary's excellent cooking, we dined at Anthony's in Tacoma, Ivars on the Pier as well as the Dahlia Lounge (I will have to devote a completely separate post to the pie we had here). Henry and Mary have such an extensive garden -- tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, herbs, peppers, berries, lettuce, carrots, broccoli -- and that's not even counting the beautiful flowers! We definitely left Seattle a few pounds heavier than when we arrived!

We were all so sad our trip was coming to an end -- I wish I had met our cousins much earlier in my marriage. We'd have had just that much more time to enjoy each other's company! The beautiful weather gave way to gray clouds and rain on the day we left. Mary said Seattle was crying because we were leaving. I'm sad, too, Seattle.

We're already planning our next visit and all the fun things we'll do -- ferry ride to Bremerton, dinner at Roy's Boathouse, drive to Portland, etc. And, of course, we'll enjoy some more goodies from Mary and Henry's garden. Until next time, Seattle!

Family Day @ Twentynine Palms

2009-09-30T21:33:00.001-07:00

Don't ask me why, but I thought I would not have to attend any more of my kid's events when he became a 'big boy'.

I was the parent who served on school advisory councils, participated in the PTA and PTSA, coached little league and was a team parent, went to Cub Scout meetings. . .you get the idea. Of course, he complained, but I think he secretly enjoyed knowing his mom would always show up.

So, when I said I couldn't make it to Delta Company's Family Day a few weekends ago, it didn't seem like a big deal. Even though I really did have a conflicting appointment, I wasn't looking forward to the 2-hour drive through the desert. I mean, I had already attended the Family Day two years ago at Camp Pendleton. You've been to one. . .

When my other appointment was cancelled, I decided to go. Christian made me promise to pack plenty of water in the car, start out with a full tank of gas, wear sunblock, call him when I left, and call him along the way. Funny, how we've switched roles, huh?

Luckily, Tim decided to go also, so I didn't make the drive alone. Because we missed our exit, it took us 3 hours to make a 2 hour drive. But, that little detour took us through Joshua Tree National Park, so it wasn't all bad. We saw a part of our state neither of us had seen before.

We arrived just in time for me to put on some safety gear and go for a Humvee ride with Iggy, the self-proclaimed best driver in the Company.

After putting on a jumpsuit, I got a VIP tank ride with CJ at the wheel and Mac riding shotgun. Mac and I switched helmets and I could communicate with CJ.

I knew we'd made the right decision to attend when Mac hugged me and whispered in my ear, "I told CJ at least his mom came". Unfortunately Mac's mom couldn't make it, but his dad and new wife were there to support him.

So, I guess I'll be grateful my kid still invites me to his events and just continue to be the mom that show's up at everything.

Ooh-Rah!

Happy Birthday, Mama!

2009-09-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

We recently celebrated my mother's birthday. She would kill me if I said which one! Seriously.

For the past several years, my mom and I have taken a trip around her birthday. We've cruised to Mexico and taken road trips to San Diego and Hearst Castle. This year, we celebrated with a small gathering of family friends.

While I have a few close friends, my mom is, without a doubt, my best friend. As a kid, you cannot even imagine hanging out with your mom, let alone wanting to.

I think I was in my early 20's when I realized my mom was fun and smart! Now, us hanging out just comes naturally. We share some of the same interests -- travel, cooking, reading, etc. -- so being friends was just a natural progression.

But, she never let's me forget, she's the mother! I hope we helped to make your day happy!!

I Thought We Had A Firm Commitment!

2009-09-07T23:03:00.000-07:00

Since when is a dinner reservation a 'suggested seating time' and not a firm commitment?

I understand there may be a brief delay while they prep your table, but I definitely do not expect to be told there's a 20 minute wait for my table when I've made reservations.

If that's the case, why bother to make a reservation? Otherwise, I'd just plan to arrive about 1 hour before I was really ready to be seated.

This was our recent experience at Houston's in Pasadena. Now, Houston's is always crowded, so we know to expect a wait if we show up spontaneously.

The hostess tried to explain that this is how it's done there, but I wasn't listening. I wasn't listening because she wasn't making any sense. After sitting outside by the koi pond and pondering the situation, we saw one of the managers outside.

Very nicely, but determined, I introduced myself and asked his name and what he did for the restaurant. Something with Customer Service. I said, "That's good, because I have a customer service concern." I said to him:

Today is my anniversary and we made 7pm reservations to celebrate. Your hostess has informed us there's a 15-20 wait for our table. We left a very nice restaurant, just around the corner, where we enjoyed appetizers and drinks before arriving here. If we'd known a reservation was just a suggestion, we would have had dinner at the other restaurant. Can you help us?

Two minutes later, we were being seated, they visited our table to make sure we were happy, and comped a portion of our meal.

Of course, not having a problem is good. How quickly a place resolves a problem, however, weighs heavily with me. So, Houston's is still A-#1 in my book.

There's still the question, though, "When did a dinner reservation stop being a firm commitment?"

Happy Birthday!

2009-09-07T19:52:00.000-07:00

What a lucky girl I am! I have two wonderful MILs!

Recently, 7 of us girls gathered to celebrate a milestone birthday for my MIL, Betty. My MIL looks absolutely FAN-TAB-U-LOUS for her age (I'm not telling)! It must be true about black women and their skin -- hers looks great!

First of all my SIL read me the riot act for not updating this blog for almost a month. (I'll try not to let that happen, again). This caused everyone to joke about protecting their identities when I wrote about the day's events.

You get a group of diverse, multi-generational, women together and it will be an event! No topic is off limits: politics, husbands, kids, current events, etc. You find out where all the bodies are buried!

But, here's the thing, the take away is not about knowing where the bodies are buried, but that these women are overcomers. My friendships with older women are one of my biggest blessings. I learn so much from them, without actually having to go through a bunch of "stuff".

Being with my MIL and her friends was both entertaining and enlightening. I was struck by how their life experiences -- marriage, divorce, illness, raising kids, careers -- seems to have made them better, stronger, more confident, and beautiful.

So, while I won't be spilling any secrets or naming any names, I'm definitely taking notes on how to be more like them.

I Ain't Grown, I'm Married!

2009-08-31T19:13:00.000-07:00

My Sweetie and I will be celebrating our anniversary soon. When we married, the minister who officiated asked that we send her a card, every year, on our anniversary. We're supposed to tell her how we're doing.

This always puts me in a reflective mood as I try to think of what to write. What comes to mind is a fight we had early in our marriage. The point is not that we had a fight, but how we've taken that episode and turned it into one of our marriage-isms. You know, those things you say/do in your marriage that usually only have meaning to the two of you.

Early in our marriage we had a HUGE fight because we weren't speaking the same language. Thankfully, time has dulled my memory, but I do remember that I asked him a question about where he was going and he gave some vague, unsatisfactory answer. Now, I wasn't clockin' him, I was just concerned (for real!). He, however, interpreted my questions as intrusive. Our exchange went something like this:

Him (upset): I don't have to tell you because I'm grown!

Me (upset): Ok. But you cannot be grown and be married to me! We're married and we do have some accountability to one another. You can't just walk out like you're still single!

After a few hours had passed (y'all know how we can be), I had something else to say.

Me: Since you're so grown, we're going to change the way we do some stuff around here. There are some things grown folk need to be doing for themselves.

Among the things I would be relinquishing was the scheduling of doctor appointments. So, I propped his medical card up in his computer keyboard. I went to bed.

When I woke up the next morning, the card was stuck in my keyboard. I put it back in his keyboard.

The next day, he put it on my keyboard; I put it back on his keyboard. This went on for the better part of a week. I have never said that either of us has good sense!

Finally, exasperated, he says, "What do you want me to do?" I look him in the eye and say,"I want you to say, 'I ain't grown, I'm married'". Now, to this day, I have absolutely no idea why such a ridiculous phrase popped into my mind, but it did.

Him (tentatively): I ain't grown. I'm married.

Me: You don't mean it.

Him (more firmly): I ain't grown. I'm married.

Me (smirking): Still not good enough.

Him (louder): I ain't grown, I'm married!

Me (holding in a laugh): You sound like you're starting to mean it.

Him (LOL): I AIN'T GROWN, I'M MARRIED!

Me (LOL): I AIN'T GROWN, I'M MARRIED, TOO!

All I do remember, clearly, is both of us laughing until our sides hurt. Since then, it is not uncommon to hear one of us casually say to each other or even other people, I ain't grown, I'm married.

That goofy, simple, phrase, born out of an argument, has come to signify our accountability to one another. So, we check in with each other, we talk to each other before we make plans, we call when we're running late.

I was single and grown for a long time, but now, I ain't grown, I'm married!

Happy Anniversary, Sweetie!

We're Not in Kansas, Anymore, Toto. . .

2009-08-29T19:05:00.000-07:00

A long-time girlfriend invited me to enjoy the Asian spa near her house. She explains, it's an Asian spa and it's a bit different from any of the spas I may have visited. First of all, it's all women (I'm cool with that) and you walk around naked (Ruh-Roh, Reorge). After a few moments spent mentally reviewing my body's deficiencies, I take a deep breath, then decide, I'm ok with this.

A few days before our visit, we decide we will indulge ourselves in a treatment. Pay attention here, because I need you to visualize this service and the environment. We both pick the super premium package -- body scrub, body shampoo, full body aromatherapy massage, scalp massage, facial, hair shampoo, full body moisturizer. One hour, forty minutes of being treated like a goddess.

We remove our shoes, disrobe and put our clothes in our locker, gather our lightweight robe and towels, and head for the showers. (You must shower first and after exiting the steam room and sauna). Surprisingly, the whole naked thing wasn't a big deal. Actually, it was rather empowering and freeing. There were some ladies who looked as if I should pin them down and force feed them red velvet cake and fried chicken, while others look like they could eat me. Thankfully, I was right in the middle of the bell curve.

We enjoy the pools (definitely, do the cold one, too) saunas, then have time for a nice rest on the heated tile floor. My masseuse, a middle-aged Korean woman named Son, calls me for my service. We greet each other and she instructs me to lie down on my stomach.

Now, I'm used to spa services being provided in private, dimly lit rooms, Yanni playing on the CD, with a sheet wrapped around me, and my underwear on (if I prefer). Well, this is a long room with about (6) tables 2'-3' apart. No privacy. No sheet. Definitely no underwear. The only thing separating me from my neighbors is a warm towel on my face and my own modesty.

Wearing a glove, Son begins exfoliating at my feet and works her way completely up the back side of my body. COMPLETELY!. In my head, I know I "yelped", but not out loud. While lying on the table, I'm rinsed with some soothingly warm water. In broken English, "Turn over". I comply.

I thought we knew each other intimately before, but now Son and I really get to know each other. Again starting at my feet, Son begins working the gloves in short, fast strokes, exfoliating like her life depends on it. When she re-positions one of my legs (picture the number '4') to get at my inner thigh, I am suddenly more alert that I have ever been in my life! In broken English, "You ok?"

Gulp! I can only mumble hmm-hmm. By now, I'm thinking I know this woman and I have entered into, at the very least, a civil union. You cannot have this kind of intimacy and not be in a committed relationship!

She continues and I get another warm shower, right on the table. Just when I think we're done. She says, "On your side". For the love of God, what else can she exfoliate?! How much dead skin can one person have?! Again, I comply. By this time, my skin is, literally, tingling. All over. Seriously, ALL OVER!

At this point, she helps me sit up. I make every effort to keep my eyes off my friend and the other women. She gives me a dallop of facial cleanser and sends me to the showers to rinse off.

My friend and I meet in the showers, giggle over the whole experience, and marvel and how absolutely luxurious our skin feels. Obviously, we had not been exfoliating properly, prior to this. She leaves, but is sent right back. She didn't do a good job of removing all the sloughed off skin. I learn from her mistake, and make sure to move 'tha girls' and let the shower spray get all those secret places. Well, they used to be secret places, before I met Son.

I pass Son's inspection, so back on the table I go. After another 1:20 of massaging, moisturizing, and aromatherapy-izing, I am so relaxed and my skin is more beautiful that it has ever been.

As she helps me into a warm robe and puts spa slippers on my feet, Son admonishes me not to shower today or get back into the pools. Hell, I can't! I am so freakin' oiled and moisturized the runoff would cause an environmental oil slick off the California Coastline. I really think I am two shades lighter than when I arrived and I used to have tan lines! Son has exfoliated me so, new skin is afraid to grow back!

Visiting an Asian spa certainly qualifies as "stepping outside my comfort zone". And, I did have a really great time with my girlfriend. As I write this, I'm still glowing and tingling. Everywhere! I can hardly wait to go, again!

P.S: There was no inappropriate touching. Son was completely professional.

I Was Tired!

2009-08-29T18:03:00.000-07:00

That's my excuse, plain and simple. What had happened was. . .

CJ said he was sick last week. Too sick to go to work.

Hmmm-Hmmm. . .

Tuesday evening, he was not feeling better. When I came home from work, I asked if he'd called the doctor. No.

No?! Why hadn't he done this sooner? Why would you be too sick to go to work, have sufficient medical coverage, and not call the doctor?

I took the phone and explained his symptoms -- fever, chills, body aches, sore throat. The nurse didn't want us to wait until the appointment, tomorrow, but instructed me to take him to the ER. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Can I take him to the urgent care facility (just a few miles from our house)?

Nurse: No. I think he needs more care than they can provide.

Me: What brought you to this conclusion?

Nurse: Yada, yada, yada. . .

Me: Ok.

Nurse: Do you understand me?

Me: Of course I understand you!

Nurse: Yada, yada, yada. . .

Me: I said I understood you!

Again, in my defense, I think I need to say that I'm not a horrible mother (most of the time). I was just very, very tired. And, he is an adult. At least that's what he tells me whenever I offer him advice.

So, I look at the kid and say: It's 6:30, traffic is heavy, and I'm tired. If you are so sick we need to go to the ER, we'll go. If you can wait until your appointment, tomorrow. . .

We go to the ER. They see him almost immediately.

Yes, I'm feeling guilty. But I don't have time to wallow in it, the Dr. comes in.

The doctor asks him some questions, but since his throat is sore, I respond. He asks some more questions, I respond. Dr. looks at me quizzingly, but doesn't say anything. Dr. talks some more, I ask more questions. Dr. explains the treatment plan, I question it. During all this the kid says nothing, just nods in my direction.

When the nurse enters to administer his meds, which includes a shot in the boom-boom, she asks the kid if I need to leave. He's still not talking, so I say, No, I've seen it all before.

We're preparing to check out when the nurse, hesitantly, pulls me aside.

Nurse: What's your relationship to the patient?

Me: He's my son (with a somewhat confused look on my face).

Nurse: (Having an A-ha Moment) We thought you were his sister, or girlfriend.

People, it's 10pm, my make-up has worn off, my hair is uncombed, my clothes are wrinkled from being in/out of the car, I know I do not look like this chile's sister and I fo' damn sho' do not look like his girlfriend!

I think these people need to be drug tested!

P.S. I redeemed myself by treating him to a scoop of ice cream on the way home. All is right, again, in the Motherhood.

What's Goin' On?

2009-08-29T09:15:00.000-07:00

Based on the time lapse since my last post, a person could reasonably assume nothing's been happening on PlanetSandra. But, a person would be so totally wrong!!

Here's just a small taste of what's been going on. . .

I'm still riding the bike, but I fell considerably short (14) of the record-breaking 19 cycling days in July. It wasn't entirely my fault, though. Due to the fires raging around us (blessedly, we've been in no danger), the air quality has been pretty bad in the areas where I'd normally ride.

I got hit on, again! Y'all know hysterical I think this is. This time it was at the mall. When I told him I was married, he said, "You don't even need to tell me who your husband is. He's the brother walkin' around in here with the big smile on his face!" And, then, there was the crew of city employees working on my street for an entire week! Where are all my single friends?! (When I asked to take this picture, he actually started posing for me -- LOL!)

Our friends had a baby! He is without a doubt not an 'It's a baby!' baby. Y'all know what I'm talking about. When the kid is aesthetically challenged we all have those things we say so we don't have to lie and say the kid is cute.

I married well. My husband's family is just totally awesome! We've planned another trip to visit the Seattle relatives -- they may be 2nd cousins, but they're 1st rate people! We spent a wonderful afternoon attending a play with my MIL -- she's still getting used to my lack of hair. Just us girls will be celebrating my other MIL's milestone birthday.

CJ got sick and required a late evening run to the ER. Nothing too serious or contagious, but still. . . The ER nurse and doctor both seemed to look at me 'funny' when I sorta' took charge -- asking questions, making them clarify, deciding what treatments he'd take -- in other words acting like a mom! Turns out, they thought I was his sister or girlfriend! This is the 2nd time this has happened? What is it about me that makes people think I'm a cougar?! (There's nothing wrong with being a cougar, I'm just not!)

My own mom is about to celebrate a milestone birthday (if I said which one, she would kill me!) She'd like to have presents equal to the birthday (e.g. 40 presents on your 40th birthday). Any suggestions?

A girlfriend and I went to a Korean Spa. I'm going to need a completely separate posting to elaborate on this experience. Let me just say this: When a little Korean woman positions your legs so they form the number '4' so she can exfoliate, you know you're in for a wild ride! Oh, did I mention I was completely naked?!

My BigSexy and I are gearing up to celebrate a wedding anniversary. The minister who officiated at our wedding asked us to send her a card every year on our anniversary and catch her up on how we're doing. I think I have something interesting to share this year.

I'll be elaborating on some of these topics in the coming days, but I think that just about catches you up with what's been happening on PlanetSandra. More to come. . .

That which does not kill me. . .

2009-08-05T16:56:00.000-07:00

. . .can only make me stronger.

In the month of July, there were 19 smiley-face stickers on my calendar. That means I rode my bike 19 days! I'm not talking about just taking a spin around the block, either!

I rode my bike when I felt like it and when I didn't.

I rode in the morning and in the evening.

I rode by myself and with other cyclists.

I rode familiar and unfamiliar debits.

I rode uphill, caught my breath, and took the next hill, too!

In July, I rode my bike 9-TEEN days, yall! Yea, me! I am so much more than a conquerer!

Do you want to know why I ride that bike? I ride it because I don't want to be dead! I'm serious. By the time my maternal grandmother was my age, she was dead. Heart disease. Diabetes. High blood pressure. Pick one.

Every day, I think about not riding that bike. But I don't want my body to give out on me, so I can't give out on my body. One day, my baby will have some beautiful babies of his own, and I intend to ride my bike with them. I want to hear them yelling, "Grandma, you're going too fast!"

So, those things that weakened and afflicted my ancestors, will not have any power over me, but to make me stronger.

Look out August!

I Know It's Rotting My Brain, But. . .

2009-08-02T21:19:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I indulged my need to watch trashy television. Two of my favorite shows to love to hate are Bridezillas and Real Housewives of Atlanta.

Where do they find these women?! Is there a casting call for insane brides, whimpy grooms, and bitchy, Southern, Black women? Which show is worse probably depends on which episode you watch.

On Bridezillas, it's not uncommom for the bridesmaids get assaulted -- verbally and physically. (Which makes me think of the comedian Cedric the Entertainer. He says Black people have a "wish factor" philosophy, as in I wish a Bridezilla would pull some s*%# like that on me. . .!) And what kind of groom does nothing when his intended threatens to open a can of 'whip-ass' on his mother?! These women have absolutely no self-awareness. Or, they're clinically insane and need to go back on their meds.

The Real Housewives of Atlanta is like a train wreck; a sense of morbid curiosity makes me watch! Aside from possibly marrying/divorcing well, what exactly is their claim to fame? Kim, the token White girl, is a walking billboard advertisement for Botox, implants (lips, boobs, etc.), liposuction, and hair extensions. She's got more weave than the Sistahs! Oh, and she relies on a psychic to guide her decisions. Seriously, these women are a bunch of self-absorbed, petty, backbiters, and they totally misrepresent any woman -- Black or otherwise -- I have ever known.

Oh, but they're so much fun to watch and ridicule!

And the Oscar goes to. . .

2009-08-02T11:19:00.001-07:00

NNNNOOOOO!!

That's what I said, inside my head when CJ mentioned the possibility of a re-deployment.

Lord, I don't know if I can get through another deployment. Please take this cup away from our family!

Those were my next thoughts.

What I wanted to do was just let my knees buckle and slide to the floor and cry. And beg God not to let this happen.

That's not good news at all, I said very rationally and calmly. He reiterated it wasn't 100% certain it would happen. I'm already praying it doesn't, is what I said.

This potential deployment isn't about me, at all, but since his last deployment, CJ and I have had an understanding.

In every family, there's usually someone who's the glue. You know, the person who keeps the other family members connected -- organizes get-togethers, celebrates special days, takes pictures, etc. In our family, CJ thinks that person is me and I accept that characterization.

Here's where the understanding comes in -- if I am the glue for our family, he's my glue. He keeps me focused and able to do these things. I'm creating memories, traditions, etc., for him. For his children. Without him, I cannot hold it together. I cannot hold anything together.

Rationally, I know I may be jumping the gun, but if his unit is redeployed and if something happens to him, I won't have my glue and I know I will fall apart without my glue.

Now, while all this is going through my mind in the course of mere nano-seconds, Life continues in real time. . .

Instead of crumpling to the floor, I continued to brush my teeth and get dressed for my morning bike ride. Instead of crying behind my dark glasses, I smiled and waved good morning to other cyclists.

So, the Oscar for looking perfectly normal while having an emotional breakdown goes to. . .me.

Yum-Yum!

2009-07-31T17:27:00.000-07:00

As you may recall from an earlier post, I love all things Chicago! Especially the food!

Despite having lived all of my adult life in SoCal, my mouth still waters for Chicago's food -- especially a good, grilled (not boiled) hot dog. There are a few places in SoCal that do my hometown favorite justice. And, thankfully, my Sweetie has discovered just how good they are, so he has no qualms about indulging me. Even if it means a 40 mile drive.

While I can't say I would be interested in trying very many of these hot dogs, I am glad to see the hot dog get it's due. It really is a perfect food -- self contained, portable, and oh-so-good when done properly!

You can only imagine how surprised I was when a sidewalk vendor was selling hotdogs near the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Their hot dogs have nothing on the Chicago version, but I did like the way they drilled a hole into a baguette (leaving the last inch or so intact), put in your choice of condiments, then added the hot dog. This really makes it easy to eat on the fly and it wasn't bad tasting.

But, if you want your own Chicago-style hot dog, head on over to Mustard's (Long Beach) or Monty's (on Pico in L.A.). You might just see me there, too!

You Didn't Know! (Part 2)

2009-07-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

About a week ago, I planned a surprise date night for me and my Sweetie. He was so sure he knew what the surprise was that he said he'd write it down on a piece of paper and seal it in an envelope.

He didn't know!

But, then I already knew that.

The takeway here is not that he was WRONG and I was RIGHT, but that we still try to spend time together and surprise each other. Everyone knows I think marriage is hard work (But so totally worth the effort!) And, for me, date night is really important. It seems that in order to have a successful marriage, you've got to make time for each other and not allow yourselves to grow apart.

The day after our outing, our neighbors shared that they just celebrated their 42nd wedding anniversary.

WOW!! That is so awesome!

If marriage were a job, they could both have retired years ago, with full benefits! What am I saying?! Marriage is a job! A rewarding, fulfilling, and satisfying job! But, still a job.

Some time ago, I asked them the same question I ask everybody I meet who's been married a long time, "What's the secret to having a long and happy marriage?" Here's what they said: Do stuff together.

Sounds simple enough.

So, since we're in it for the long haul, we'll continue to have date night and make a big effort to do things together.

P.S. The date night in question included tickets to see Anita Baker in concert.

Who's Bad?!

2009-07-22T09:37:00.000-07:00

I am!

Or dumb. The jury is still out.

Today, I awakened just before the sun came up. Surprisingly, I was unable to go back to sleep. So, I got up, responded to a few emails and decided to get out on the bike before it got too hot.

Quite by accident, my Sweetie caught up with me about :20 into my ride (we don't usually ride together during the week). Ever so innocently, he says, "You should follow me up Hwy. 39".

I'm slightly oxygen deprived, already, so I say, "Duh, ok". Maybe I didn't say "Duh", but, in retrospect, it was implied. I grabbed his wheel as we rode along and exited the dam.

If I had wanted to work this hard before most people got up, I would have joined the Army! Sweat (not perspiration) is pouring down my face, into my eyes, and down my back! I have just confirmed that I do, indeed, have a "lady" moustache -- sweat is pooling on my upper lip!

I think my Sweetie is trying to kill me! Mind you, this is only the second time I've attemped this ride, so to say it's still quite a challenge for me is an understatement. He's all relaxed just a few yards ahead of me.

Just when I think I cannot pedal another stroke, we've reached our destination -- Morris Dam. After a few deep breaths and some juice, my sugar levels stabalize and I think I was, maybe, being a bit dramatic when I thought he was trying to kill me.

Blessedly, the ride to this point was all uphill, so the ride home is downhill. I love downhill -- winding curves, blurred scenery, and dry(ing) jersey.

Just as we pull into the driveway, my Sweetie says, "You should do this ride, again, tomorrow". I say, "Duh, ok".

A real good thing

2009-07-18T12:37:00.000-07:00

We don't own a pet.

Why, then, have I been forced to clean up not 1, not 2, not 3. . .but S-I-X piles of cat s*** off my front lawn -- in the past 24 hours?!?!

I'm not a cat person to begin with, so the thought of cleaning up somebody else's cat's poop is really pissing me off!!

There are 2 cats that seem to just roam (own?) my block. I'm not sure who the cats actually belong to, but a few of my neighbors feed them. They pretty much go wherever they want -- sunning on top of someone's boat, lying in the shade under another's tree. . .you get the idea.

There's nothing like pulling up in front of your house and having your senses assaulted by the smell of fresh cat poop and the accompanying flies as you come up your walkway.

And while we're talking about wayward pets and their owners. . .

Why does one of our neighbors allow their small beast to bark incessantly and without provocation?! I wake to the sound of the dog barking; I work with the sound of the dog barking; I (try to) relax in the evening to the sound of the dog barking; I go to sleep to the sound of the dog barking. Dude, Chick, your dog is barking!

For the love of all that is good neighborly, why don't people control their animals?!

If I were little Anthony Fremont from the Twilight Zone, I would wish them all away to the cornfield.

What You Talkin' 'Bout, Willis?!

2009-07-17T18:37:00.000-07:00

Magnificent Mile.

Deep Dish Pizza.

The Loop.

The 'El' Train.

Vienna Hot Dogs.

Garrett's Popcorn.

Sears Tower.

These are all things synonymous with Chicago. Chicago isn't Chicago without them. All of them! Well, not any more! As of yesterday, the Sears Tower is now the Willis Tower!

With all due respect to Willis Group Holdings, you can't do that! I realize that Sears hasn't actually has offices in the tower since the early 90's, but still. . .it's the Sears Tower. Just ask anybody in the world! This isn't the first building to undergo a name change, but this building is an iconic part of Chicago's history.

I may live in sunny SoCal, but I am, and always will, be a Midwestern Girl. There are just some things that should never, ever, ever, e-ver, change. Hot dogs should be sprinkled with celery salt; caramel and cheese popcorn should be eaten together; and the skyscraper located at 233 Wacker Dr. should be called the Sears Tower, no matter who occupies the most office space.

Richard Daly better hope the citizens of Chicago don't change the name of their mayor in the next election!

You Don't Know!

2009-07-15T18:19:00.000-07:00

Before we got married, my Sweetie and I decided we'd make a conscientious effort to have 'date night' every week. We soon discovered, 'every week' was a bit ambitious, but we do have regular date nights each month.

Over the years, it has evolved into a bit of a contest (he says it hasn't, but it has!) to see who can be the most creative. Some dates have been extravagant; some, not so much. Well, this week, I have planned a date night that I know he will enjoy!

But, it's a surprise.

He says he knows what it is. But, he doesn't.

I know what he thinks it is. But, he's wrong.

Because, he's so sure of himself, he says, "I will write it down on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope."

"Ok", I say, because he cannot possibly know what I've planned. As of this writing, only two people know and they wouldn't tell!

When I tell him to show me the envelope, he says, "We're married, we trust each other!", I say, "Because we're married, is why I don't trust you!"

We both laugh. But, he's still wrong!

I Love You. . .I Hate You!

2009-07-12T17:32:00.000-07:00

This week, after a long hiatus, I re-kindled my love/hate relationship with my bike. To be more accurate, my a$$ has a love/hate relationship with my bike.

Just sos we're clear, I don't exercise because I like it. In all honesty, I dislike it immensely. But I dislike high blood pressure, heart disease, and diabetes even more! So, I ride the bike. It's actually a very nice bike. A friend cleaned it up (you rock, Mike!), Tim has put on a comfortable seat*, and it's in really good shape.

My goal is to ride 4-5 times/week (I put a smiley face sticker on my calendar every day I ride). This week, I managed to get out 4 times, with today being the 3rd consecutive day I had ridden. By the time I pulled into our driveway (2:10; 1500 Calories; 23 miles later), my boom-boom had had it with my bike!

As I slid off the seat, I could not ignore the burning sensation in the seat of my padded pants! Tim just laughs and says, "You was ridin' today!" The sense of accomplishment I felt at conquering this route was dulled by my aching boom-boom!

Why does exercise have to hurt? It sure doesn't hurt when I'm sitting in front of the TV, feet up, with a big helping of B&J's ice cream. That feels remarkably good! Life is just full of paradoxes -- exercise, which hurts, is good for you; not exercising, which is bad for you, feels so good!

If I'm being totally honest, cycling does have its upside. It's exhilirating to put your head down, pull your elbows in, shift gears, and get your rhythm as you enjoy the 'down' after a long, hard 'up'. There's so much comraderie among cyclists. Strangers will change your flat tire, stay with you if you can't keep up and, literally, push you up a hill.

Fortunately, my boom-boom doesn't have a very long memory and my bike is very forgiving, so by tomorrow morning the feud between the two will be long forgotten. And more importantly, I've got 500 more smiley face stickers!

*No matter how ergonomic the seat, after a long ride, your boom-boom will be sore.

My Own Worst Enemy!

2009-07-06T23:00:00.000-07:00

Have you ever done something and knew you were headed for a trainwreck, while you were doing it?!

I've been working on a major project for awhile. At first, I was all over it -- making time every day to get a little bit done. Then, it just seemed as if I had so many other things (more pressing, more important, less boring) hit me at the same time.

Did I mention that I didn't really want to take on this project in the first place?

Part of it was just plain procrastination. Part of it was the seemingly disjointed way in which the data I needed was stored. A piece here, a piece there; minimal-to-no response to my inquiries; nothing where I thought it should be.

Complaining is only wasting precious time and getting me nowhere . So, I'll just get back to work!

Phenomenally!

2009-07-03T23:36:00.000-07:00

I think women are WON-DER-FUL!! God has blessed me with a circle of friends who are absolutely phenomenal -- smart, funny, generous, supportive, loyal, gentle, strong, honest, and loving. If I seem remotely, well-balanced, it's because of them!

The other day, I had a chance to visit with a friend. While we've known each other for about 2 years, we've never really had a chance to talk. Our interactions are usually in the confines of a group environment.

I think every woman (men, too, I guess) has a 'Story'. Some of us have lots of Stories. For whatever reason, we've had to re-invent ourselves multiple times. In hearing her story, I laughed, was sad, and rejoiced at her strength and perserverance.

She made me so grateful for having a circle of friends who are willing to share the good, bad, and ugly Stories that are their lives. I think it's this telling that makes us stronger, smarter, and bonds us together.

As I left our meeting, I remembered one of my favorite Maya Angelou poems:

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size.

But when I start to tell them, they think I'm telling lies.

I say,

It's in the reach of my arms,

The span of my hips,

The stride of my step,

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me. . .

*Painting is "Tchokola" by Synthia Saint James

Diners, Drive-ins and Dives Road Trip!

2009-07-03T22:14:00.000-07:00

My Sweetie and I love the show, "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives", on the Food Network! For Father's Day, it was all about Tim and he decided we would visit Blue Water Seafood Market & Grill (San Diego) and Gaffey Street Diner (San Pedro), which were featured on the show.

The weather was just beautiful -- sunny, breezy, with clear blue skies! The staff and 'regulars' at Gaffey were happy to share their experiences filming the show and offer recommendations. The item featured on the show was more a dessert than breakfast -- French Toast with fresh fruit, whipped cream, etc. We ordered something else. The food was ok. We would eat there again, but we wouldn't go out of our way. Grade: C

We hung out at the bike race for a bit and met up with Rahsaan Bahati, a pro cyclist with Rock Racing. I got a great picture of them together! Rahsaan joked that Tim was usually behind the camera. (Tim has developed a bit of a reputation as an amateur photographer. We call him our Tim-arazzi!)

On our way to San Diego, we stopped in for a visit with some friends, where we enjoyed some wonderful chocolate chip cookies and admired their new furniture. Afterwards, we stopped in Carlsbad to visit the campus of his old school. He was amazed to see they had installed washers/dryers. When he was a student, they had to pack up their laundry and walk into town to the public laundrymat.

Blue Water is truly a dive -- stand in line to order, paper plates, plastic chairs -- but it was SO GOOD!! It's a fish market that doesn't smell "fishy" at all! I was really impressed when someone came in and ordered some fresh fish to take home. The owner asked if they were headed straight home. If not, he'd pack the fish on ice so it would keep better. We shared a crab/shrimp cocktail with some deliciously spicy cocktail sauce (homemade, I assumed) and a halibut sandwich. Yum-Yum! I only regret that I was too full to try the Cioppino! We'll just have to go back. Grade: B+

Our DD&D Road Trip was so much fun, I fell asleep in the car as my Sweetie drove the last few miles home.

Fight On!

2009-06-22T18:30:00.000-07:00

Y'all know how I simply adore my M-I-L, Katherine. She is truly a ruby among woman! When she found out I didn't participate in my own commencement, she ordered caps and gowns so we could walk together in 2005, when she was invited to join Half Century Trojans.

This is me with two of her classmates (Katherine is on the right) from c/o 1955. When I think about what it must have been like for them, honestly, I didn't even feel worthy to stand with them. Here's a link to a wonderful video "True Colors in the Autumn Years", by Mira Zimet, celebrating the 60th anniversary of USC's Half Century Trojans, "starring" my M-I-L. Katherine is also in the photo (upper left photo) on the opening frame. She was (and still is) BEAU-TI-FUL!

Table for 2

2009-06-18T21:12:00.000-07:00

We are sad.

They've closed one of our favorite restaurants. For whatever reason, the lease wasn't renewed. Or something like that. I don't really care about 'why'.

Already, we miss our favorite servers and bartender. They really made eating there a pleasure. Whenever we walked in, they seemed genuinely happy to see us. When the restaurant was crowded and there was a 30 minute wait, we didn't wait. They knew what we drank, how my Sweetie liked his steak, and they never forgot 'double spinach', no pasta. And, they told the truth when we asked, "Hows the . . . ?"

We took everyone there -- our mothers, my niece, CJ, friends, and colleagues. When we took my niece, our server made a big deal about personally mixing up a special drink for her. More recently, we hosted 8 of my Sweetie's closest friends as we celebrated his birthday.

Fortunately, many of the employees were absorbed into the chain's other local restaurants, including one of our favorite servers. So, we'll have just a little farther to go, but it will be worth it.

But, we're still sad.

21!

2009-06-18T17:04:00.000-07:00

CJ celebrated his 21st birthday this week!

Due to military obligations and some other scheduling conflicts, we were not able to have a family celebration. However, he was able to celebrate with his friends and show his ID and order a few drinks, legally.

We all know this wasn't his first drink, just his first legal drink. Here are a few pictures:

Carolina, "just a friend"

Carl & Camille, his "brother and sister".

Gary, Carl, Carlos, & Alex, my "other" children. CJ and Gary are making "S" with their hands for 'Scrapbook' because they know I will scrap these photos. They love to see themselves in my scrapbooks.

Group shot.

It's About Time!

2009-06-15T19:22:00.000-07:00

Y'all know how excited I get about my garden! I finally got a real crop of delicious, crunchy, string beans!! WhooHoo!

To honor them, I decided to prepare them, and just them, for dinner. I even got out a nice plate. They did not disappoint!

Now, I Know!

2009-06-14T21:58:00.000-07:00

Today, we spent another few hours cleaning our garage. Of course, I had to put on the proper attire (read earlier post for more details). This time, Tim was with us. And, it's a good thing he was because most of the stuff in the garage belongs to him!!

I cannot believe this, but it's true. Oh, some of it is mine, but Tim is the big culprit. All this time, I thought it was me -- I don't know why, but I did. This revelation has lifted a huge weight off my shoulder. It was one of those, I thought it was ME, but it really is YOU, kind of moments.

Here's the thing -- my stuff includes things for the house. You know how when you're married, people give you gifts that are really for the both of you? Well, when it comes to organizing, cleaning, and storing those items, it's the wife's responsibility (I wish it weren't this way, but it just is). So, while it looks like you are taking most of the storage space, it's really because you have your personal belongings, plus the household items to manage.

Just knowing this will make this job a lot easier for me.

Was That A Bear?!

2009-06-12T21:41:00.000-07:00

When I woke up, I had no idea today would be full of so many surprises. It's funny how they're all sort of inter-related.

1. While out grabbing a sandwich for lunch, I saw a bear! Yes, a real, live bear! For a city slicker like myself, this is a HUGE DEAL! I think it was a cub, but it was still big. It came out of a clearing, onto a residential street in Sierra Madre (I was driving in my car). He was black, furry, and, at least as tall as I. He wandered in the street for a bit, then climbed a wall into someone's yard. Thank goodness that wasn't my yard! The whole episode only lasted a few minutes, but it sure got my adreneline pumpin'!

2. I helped out my friend Kim by keeping an eye on her puppy. This used to be my mom's dog, but having a puppy is a big job -- too big for my mom. So, while you may know her as Halo, her new name is Fluffy (their 6 year old named her). You know what they say. . .A rose by any other name. . .While we were out for our walk, we encountered another dog. A big dog. In my mind, I'm thinking, What should I do? Do I pick up Fluffy? Fortunately, the other dog owner cut across the grass to give us both plenty of space. Well, when little Miss Fluffy took one look at the other dog, she got aggressive -- she took an aggressive posture and actually growled! I was shocked! Fluffy is not a punk!

3. After her walk, Fluffy and I headed to a new sandwich shop. I befriended the owner a few weeks ago and said I'd be back. Because of the bear sighting, I tether Fluffy to the door handle so I can keep an eye on her while I order. When word spreads about the bear sighting, the owner insisted I pick her up and bring her inside. (After our run-in with the dog, I think Fluffy may have kicked some bear @%$). Once inside, everyone goes ga-ga over Fluffy. The owner is feeding her bacon (I like bacon, too, but nobody asked me) and one of the patrons, an artist, wants to know if she can photograph Fluffy for a line of cards she's working on. Oh, and get this, she happens to notice my nicely pedicured toes and asks if she can photograph them, too. I am not making this up!

4. While at the sandwich shop, I realize I don't have enough cash for my order and they don't take debit cards. I tell the guy to just give me one sandwich (sorry, Tim). When the owner found out I didn't have enough, she insisted I take both sandwiches and just pay for them the next time I visited. This is what I love about small communities -- shop owners know/trust their customers! BTW, the chicken salad sandwich was really good -- not too much dressing and it even had grapes in it!

When I woke up today, who knew such adventure was in my future -- puppies, a modeling gig, trusting shop owner, and bears. Oh, my! I love my life!

It Must Be Thursday. . .

2009-06-11T22:35:00.000-07:00

Recently, I became a mentor. I refer to my protegee', affectionately, as my Mini-Me.

Thursday is our 'date night'. Tonight, we saw the Pixar movie "Up" in 3D. Along with the rest of the audience, we were, literally, LOL even before the movie started. "Partly Cloudy" is the cute and funny short that preceded the movie. I think Pixar has another hit.

When I picked up Mini-Me, her dad reminded me that I was to have chile rellenos for dinner at their house. (On a prior visit, I mentioned that I liked them). Of course, I protested, but he seemed to think (wrongly!) he owed me something for spending time with his daughter. Sometimes, you need to let people express gratitude -- whether you think it's warranted, or not.

Boy, am I glad this lady did not protest too much! The chile rellenos were hot, crispy, and gooey! The homemade salsa smelled wonderful and had a little heat -- just the way I like it. They were so good, I swear just eating them improved my Spanish!!

For my contribution, Mimi-Me and I baked a cake -- really, she baked, I just supervised. She chose chocolate cake with white frosting. By the time I finished the huge plate they prepared for me -- I can't believe I'm about to write this -- I was too stuffed for dessert! But, they all had generous helpings and Mini-Me was happy with her creation.

We'll see what next Thursday brings. . .

We Made the Cut!!

2009-06-09T21:05:00.000-07:00

We get to see the ba-by! We get to see the ba-by!

Some friends are expecting a baby. They've decided they'd like some time to get acclimated to the baby (their first) and get settled in before receiving guests. I shared how tired I was when CJ was born and how I was grateful for a friend who kept visitors to a minimum. So, I completely understand how they must feel. It can all be rather overwhelming.

Well, they just told us they'd love for us to come and see the baby right away. Of course, I played it cool, but, I was doing the 'happy dance' on the inside. I can't wait to see their little bundle of joy! See those little baby hands; that squinched up face; those tiny toes; and oh, that baby smell. Is there anything else like that smell? On a recent shopping trip, I couldn't resist buying some adorable outfits and a few other things. Who can resist buying baby clothes?

Everyone has their own baby 'thing'. You know, that thing about babies they just love. Some people like to rub their little bald head or feel their soft, wispy hair; some like to bite their little fingers; I like to see their little feet. No, I do not put them in my mouth! I just like to see their little toes and hold their feet in my hand.

Mama and Papa Bear -- you're already FAN-TAB-U-LOUS parents! And I would probably say that even if we didn't make the first round visitation!

Who's Stuff Is This?!

2009-06-09T19:30:00.000-07:00

I'm taking back my garage! When we decided CJ would move back home, we knew we'd have to clean out/organize the garage to make room for everybody's stuff.

Our plan was to take baby steps: spend 2-3 hours, 2-3 days/week over the next 3-4weeks. I gathered cleaning supplies, storage containers, moth balls, cedar blocks, etc. Because I will run screaming out into the street if a bug or cobweb gets on me, I dressed in my garage cleaning clothes -- long sleeved shirt, long pants, closed shoes, and bandana.

I rolled up the door, CJ and I stepped inside and instantly I knew -- We are not ready!! Abort! Abort!

How could three people accumulate this much crap?! I think there must be squirrel genes in my DNA, literally -- I found a hidden stash of sunflower seeds and nuts! My husband must have enough spare bicycle parts to sponsor a Tour d'France team! CJ doesn't even live here (yet), but his Marine gear does! Actually, it never left.

After the initial shock wore off, we got busy and over the next 1.5 hours we actually made some headway -- threw some stuff away, put some things in plastic storage bins, and organized some items. It wasn't horrible.

Before we began our project, I strolled down my street, checking out my neighbors' garages. I think a few of them thought I was casing the joint. Nobody on my street actually parks their car in the garage. Almost all are neater than mine, a few furnished with TV's

All-in-all, no one has set the bar too high. My clear plastic tubs, particle board cabinets, and plastic rack will fit in nicely with the overall aesthetic of the neighborhood. On Saturday morning, when everyone has their garage door open, you don't want to stand out -- too upscale or too junky.

I like to call it crappy chic.

1. You've Got to Have a Job. . .

2009-06-07T21:20:00.000-07:00

. . .if you want to be my boyfriend!

When I was single (thank God I'm not), that was my #1 rule for dating. No broke bruthas for this sistah! No apologies. No excuses. I don't care if you think I'm shallow. That's just how it had to be. I had other rules, but this was #1.

This economy may have made me re-think my position when you consider, "Men held nearly 80% of jobs lost since December 2007". I know a relationship isn't all about how much a person makes, but in the very beginning, having a job is pretty important. That's not to say every date has to be a big production. Having less money to spend just forces you to be creative.

"Date Night" has been part of our routine since we first married. Sometimes it is a big production. But most often, it's as simple as packing some snacks, loading up the lawn chairs, and heading to the beach. There's something quite romantic about sitting side-by-side, outstretched bare feet touching, watching the ocean. Sometimes we talk; or just listen to the sounds of the sea. Sometimes, we laugh at the sea gulls; and at the kids who get knocked over by the waves. But we always enjoy being together.

When I was unemployed, it was a very difficult time for me. It was hard for me to distinguish between 'who I am' versus 'what I do'. I would imagine it's even more difficult for a man. When dating, traditionally, he's expected to woo the woman and finance the whole operation. Unemployment has got to be a blow to his ego.

If I were still dating (my husband doesn't allow me to) I think I would bend the rule, but I would definitely expect a man to bring his A-game in terms of thinking creatively. Conversely, ladies, we need adjust our expectations of what constitutes a 'date'. Maybe 'dinner and a movie' mean cooking together at home and Netflix.

During good economic times, dating is challenging. I definitely don't envy my single friends, now. I think my rule is a good one, but here's something else to consider: Dating should be less about matching outward circumstances than meeting your inner necessity.

Exceeding my Expectations!

2009-06-06T21:09:00.000-07:00

Lately, we hear so much about poor customer service. Especially in the travel industry. Here's a good story. . .

On Tim's and my FAN-TAB-U-LOUS trip to Seattle we flew on Virgin America. We'd never flown VA before, but were satisfied enough after the first leg of our trip, we both agreed we'd fly with them again. I chose not to check my bag and took it as carry-on.

On the return flight, I checked my bag. Against my better judgement, I put a small electronic device in the bag. When we got home, I threw the bag onto the floor in our family room and left it there for a week. When I went to retrieve my device, I realized it was missing!

Immediately, I assumed it was stolen, but didn't think I had any recourse since it took me a week to even discover it was missing. A few more days go by. I lamented my loss.

Tim encouraged me to write VA's CEO relating the incident and expressing my disappointment at the theft of my personal property. It's now almost 2 weeks after the incident.

After doing a bit of research on the Internet, I find VA's CEO, David Cush, and send him an email detailing my experience. I had no idea whether the email would reach him or whether he would actually respond.

Two days later, I was shocked to get a response:

Hi Sandra--I'll have someone dig into it. The delay in contacting us can certainly be waived. I am going to route this through the standard process that we have here but will remain in the loop. Thanks, David

A few days after that, I get another email apologizing for my loss and giving us a credit toward future travel!

No forms to fill out! No lines to stand in! No long waits on the phone with customer service! We definitely count this as a win!

Even though I still think air travel has become a big pain in the @$%, Virgin America can count on getting our future business.

Reality Check!!

2009-06-05T12:10:00.000-07:00

This was a tough week. Not a bad week, just tough.

Deadlines to meet. . .customers to see. . .reports to prepare. . .projects to complete. . .events to attend. . .phone calls to return. . .etc. My 'to-do' list required more time than I had, assuming I intended to sleep. And this girl needs her sleep!

I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Until I read an email from an acquaintance. This is how the email began:

"Hi Sandra - this is being done in a hurry, I start chemo tomorrow . . ."

That's where I stopped reading and took a deep breath. In the next second, I had a moment of clarity and a sense of gratitude rushed over me. I live a wonderfully blessed life!

My marriage is thriving
My son is strong, healthy, and handsome
My body is strong and disease free
We are all gainfully employed at jobs we enjoy
My circle of friends are all well, happy, and spiritually grounded

My tough week wasn't so tough at all. Actually, I've endured worse. Alot worse.

So, I think I will just be quiet for awhile, pray for my acquaintenance's full recovery, and thank God for His many, many, blessings.

He's Baaack!!

2009-06-04T23:40:00.000-07:00

Tim and I stared at each other and back at him. Inside our heads, we were screaming, "Noooooo!!". Outwardly, we looked calm and I said, "We weren't prepared to have this discussion today. Give us some time to think about this".

The "this" was our Lil' Darlin's request to move back home. Our home.

"That boy wants to move back into our house!", I said when he'd left. Tim just nodded. "Seriously?", I said, all the while hoping I had misunderstood.

He was serious. I did not misunderstand. And we didn't really have a choice. Did we? There goes my scrapbooking room! There goes Tim's closet space!! And mine, by default!!! Isn't it enough that I gave him life and breast fed him -- must I give up my closet space too?!

You know we love our Lil' Darlin' -- it's just that we have become accustomed to loving him from afar. We've become accustomed to being "empty nesters". We played our music, watched our television shows, ate our food, and entertained our friends. We did all the things parents do when their kids are gone -- run with scissors, hold the refrigerator door wide open, leave our clothes in the washer/dryer, drink from the container, etc. We did that other thing, too.

Now, we need to acclimate ourselves to our "boomerang kid". That's what they call adult children who return home to live with their parents. Did you know that not all boomerangs are returning boomerangs? Why can't we have that kind of boomerang kid -- leaves and never returns (except for pre-arranged visits)?

The upside is that there will be plenty of stuff to blog about. I'm sure there are other 'upsides', I just can't think of any right now.

Stop By Anytime, Cutie-Patootie!

2009-05-29T23:03:00.000-07:00

I had a house guest for a few hours today. Normally, I would not even dream of having company while I'm working, but I made an exception for Halo.

Halo was such a good girl -- she sat quietly (most of the time) and didn't encroach on my space (too much). She did get a little restless when I had to make a few phone calls, so she entertained herself by licking my hand, nibbling on my fingers (ouch!), and taking my pencil.

Even though she's not as good a typist as she thinks, Halo still tried to help me complete a project for my boss. She probably would have done a better job if I had turned the keyboard around. With a face like hers, I'm not even upset about having to work late to fix all her typos.

Next time Halo visits, we'll see if she can't finish the filing.

Road Trip!

2009-05-28T22:07:00.000-07:00

I took a road trip that took me through the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. It's Californa's largest SP and I'd never even heard of it!

At first glance, the Park appears to be a whole lot of nothing. But I soon found it was full of something a City Slicker like me rarely sees -- miles and miles of open road. I had the opportunity to drive about half-way through the Park and enjoy the sights. Aside from rabbits and what I thought were meerkats (they turned out to be ground squirrels), I didn't see any wild life. As a big fan of Animal Planet's Meerkat Manor, I was excited at the prospect of seeing meerkats.

The drive through the Park gave me plenty of time to enjoy the quiet beauty of the dessert. I kept seeing this unusual looking looking cactus with pretty red/orange looking blooms along the roadside. I later learned it's called an Ocotillo. As you can see, it's rather strange looking with long, tendril-like branches.

The long drive through the Park forced me to spend more time alone than I have in a very long time. I think the solitude must have made me a little goofy.

On the drive home, I managed to bypass the outlet malls and casinos, but I just couldn't resist a date/banana shake from Hadley Farms -- YumYum! This was an unexpected trip, but I'm so glad I got to see this beautiful part of my State.

4 String Beans?!

2009-05-25T12:41:00.000-07:00

For the 3rd consecutive year, I planted a garden. For the 3rd consecutive year, God has smiled on my efforts, blessed my small plot with good soil, and has allowed almost everything I planted to flourish. This year, the exception seems to be my red peppers, but I have recently seen some flowers. I have made no secret of the fact that my garden is a collaboration between God and me. How else could someone with absolutely no gardening skills produce a bumper crop every time?

In addition to all His other traits, I also believe God has a sense of humor. What else could explain some of the stuff that happens to me? For example:

Why would my two string bean plants produce only four -- that's right, 4 -- beans between them? They've been producing for amount a month now and I have gotten exactly 4 string beans about every two weeks. What am I supposed to do with 4 string beans? By the time the next crop -- I use that term very loosely -- is ready for harvesting, the previous crop has deteriorated.

I know what to do with 1 cucumber or 1 bellpepper or 1 jalapeno pepper, even. I do not know what to do with 4 string beans. And, don't say, "put them in a salad". I don't want to put them in a salad. I want to lightly steam them in a bit of chicken broth, garlic and butter. You can not do that with just 4 string beans!

God will be the only one laughing when I pay $3/lb. for string beans at the grocery store to supplement the 4 string beans from my garden!

Memorial Day

2009-05-22T12:10:00.000-07:00

"The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants" -- Thomas Jefferson

It's Memorial Day Weekend.

It's not just the first holiday of the summer. It is a day of remembrance.

Let us remember the Patriots who have died in service to our country. But, let us also be thankful for the Patriots who returned home to their loved ones.

There are some dates I'll never forget -- the day my son was born and the day he returned home from his first military deployment. The sight of his face as he emerged from that car was (and is) the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Look What I Got!!

2009-05-21T20:53:00.000-07:00

I thought it was a little strange the other day when Tim said, "Take that tape measure and measure your head". But, being the complacent and obedient wife I am, I did it.

When I told him what the measurement was, he said (matter-of-factly, with a straight face), "Your head's the same size as mine".

I was a bit miffed, but I wasn't sure why:

Because he said it! It really could have gone without saying.
Because it's true! Just because it's true, doesn't mean you should say it.
Because he's almost foot taller than I am! Is my head more suited for a 6'4" man?

Minutes later, I was distracted by something shiny and completely forgot about my large head.

Imagine my surprise when my sweetie presents me with a gift! Thank you, honey. I love you too!

Oh, Yes, He Did!

2009-05-20T10:21:00.000-07:00

I got hit on today!

For real!

He was handsome!

It was a big ego boost!

It was funny, too.

I finally managed to get up early enough to ride my bike before work. When I ride my bike, I'm not the least bit glamorous -- no make-up (unless you count lip balm) and I'm wearing padded Spandex shorts. Nobody looks sexy in padded Spandex!

Ok, so I come to a stop at an intersection with a signal. There's a man driving a city truck in an opposing lane. We make eye contact, so I give him the nod, S'up.

Dude: Leans out the window and says, "You lookin' strong this morning".

I figure he's just makin conversation, so I smile and nod again.

Dude: Leans out again, checking me out apparently, and says, "Nice legs, nice big smile. That bike is working for you. Maybe I could ride with you sometime? I'm probably not as fast as you."

Because I know he ain't tryin' to ride no bike, I say, "Sure, meet me at the bike shop on Myrtle at 8 o'clock Sunday morning". I'm thinking, does this light always take this long?

Dude: Can I buy you breakfast afterwards?

This makes me LOL because I expected him to balk at the idea of being anyplace at 8 am on a Sunday morning. Now, I'm thinking, when is this damn light going to change?!

"I have breakfast with someone else", I tell him. But that was a nice tactic on his part. He doesn't know it, but breakfast is my most favorite meal. Is this light broken?!

At the same time, I'm thinking, is this brotha' really hitting on me at 7:00 in the morning, the way I'm looking? I'm a little bit flattered. Obviously, he sees my inner beauty -- 'cause my outer beauty is still asleep!

It never crossed my mind to entertain his advances, but it was nice to be appreciated, nonetheless.

Finally, the signal changes and he pulls out to make his left turn. As I watch him roll by and my light changes, there's a bit more swagger in me as I take off. I'm thinking, Even in my geeky cycling gear, with no make-up, at 7:00 in the morning, I'm hot!

Then it occurs to me. . .he was confident, gainfully employed, handsome. . .I should have offered to introduce him to a friend!

10 Things I Love About Tim. . .

2009-05-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

It's not too often Tim and I disagree. And it's not because we always see eye-to-eye. For the most part, we accept that we have differing viewpoints and we don't let that come between us.

When I do get angry at him, I always ask myself, "Is my life better with him or without him?" With. Definitely, with. And this is why:

He has a wickedly funny sense of humor.
Every night, he let's me put my cold feet on him and he never complains.
He can fix just about anything I can break.
He will go to the store at 7 a.m. and get Half & Half for my coffee.
For 11 months out of the year, he let's me control the TiVo (he gets July).
He's compassionate and full of integrity.
He's one of the smartest people I know.
When I'm sick, he takes very good care of me.
He knows me better than anyone else and he still loves me.
His kisses make me weak in the knees.

Bust Your Windows

2009-05-19T14:10:00.000-07:00

I am so mad at my husband! I'm sure I'll get over it, but right now, I'm angry! I told him this would happen, but he didn't listen!

After we spoke, I needed to just get up and walk it out.

I grabbed something to eat, sat down in front of the television, and started flipping through the channels. I landed on BET where Jazmine Sullivan's video "Bust Your Windows" was just starting to play http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TK9SPYBd-dU. Prior to this moment, I had never heard of this young lady or her song, but I like her.

Now, don't go getting all up in arms -- I'm not advocating busting anybody's anything! Anyway, that crap is only effective when you're dating. When you're married, "your" car is actually "our" car. But, the song did make me laugh. Even though the lyrics say she knows it was juvenile, she still smirked a bit. I get that.

I'll exact my revenge when I over-cook his medium rare steak til it's medium well! I know it's juvenile. . .

Today Was a Good Day

2009-05-17T18:49:00.000-07:00

For me, one sure sign it's going to be a good day is when I get to sleep until I naturally wake up. I like to walk, barefoot, down the hall, enjoying the feel of the cool wood beneath my feet.

Tim's headed out for a ride, so I get the house all to myself -- WhooHoo! And, he's even watering the front lawn. I love him!

First get the coffee started, then brush my teeth, finally, wash my face. By now, I can smell the coffee. Run out to the backyard and turn the sprinkler on my garden while it's still cool. Enjoy my one cup (ok, it's a really big cup) of coffee with my feet up on the furniture.

By now, it's time to get ready. Today, my mom and I will partner up for a cooking class. We both look forward to this -- it's fun and we get to spend time together. There are 10 of us, all women, and while we cook and eat, we enjoy a few cocktails, laugh, and tell stories about our husbands, kids, friends, pets, and ourselves. We laugh a lot. We learn a lot.

When it's over, we hug, say cheerful goobyes, and I walk away feeling rejuvenated. On the ride back to my house, my mom and I laugh and talk about the good time we had. We can't wait to recreate some of the recipes. The same way the taste of the food lingers on our palate, the fun time lingers in the air.

Is it pathetic, that I'm 40-something and my mom is my best friend?

Drinks for Everyone!?

2009-05-15T17:12:00.000-07:00

One month from today, our family will celebrate a milestone -- we'll be the parents of a 21-year old!

I think I'm supposed to feel some anxiety about this. But all of my anxiety was spent when this same child joined the Marines at 18, was deployed to Iraq at 19 and moved out at 20. So, after all that, his turning 21 should be a breeze. Right?

Does this mean we stop parenting? Worrying? Teaching? Is there some meter set to 7,660 days that's supposed to turn off the parenting switch? Well, if there is, mine's broken.

As I reflect on the past and the future, here are some things I hope he's learned from me:

Treat everyone with respect. It's got nothing to do with them; everything to do with you.
In relationships, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do. And no complaining!
Sometimes, it's ok to say absolutely nothing.
Look a person in the eye when you say, "I'm sorry".
It's ok to cry.
Usually, the right thing to do is the hard thing to do.
Take responsibility for your actions and their consequences.
Where ever you are, my love is with you.

Prep the patient, I'm on my way!

2009-05-14T22:55:00.000-07:00

"Peoples, when did it become appropriate to hold a loud, lengthy, non-sensical, (cell) phone conversation while dining in a restaurant? And if I can hear you, from 5 yards away, over the restaurant's Musiq, you're speaking waaaayyy too loudly! Grrrr!!"

That was a recent posting I made to my Facebook page.

Cell phone users must be the most self unaware people on the planet! We will talk anywhere -- at the doctor's office, in a restaurant, in the ER, on the sidewalk -- anywhere! What happened to observing basic social graces?

On a recent trip, a man walking through the terminal at LAX was on the phone and cursing (WTF!), loudly. When I glared at him and said, "We can hear you!", he did have the decency to look embarassed.

Everyone I know has a cell phone and we've all been in situations when we had to take the call. If you have children you need to be accessible. So, I get there are times when turning the phone to off/vibrate are not an option.

When LCpl. Jackson was deployed, I took my cell phone EVERYWHERE and kept the ringer on, so I wouldn't miss any of his calls. When he did call, I would stop what I was doing and take the call. If I was driving, I pulled over; if I was in a meeting with customers or colleagues, I excused myself.

Having said that, those are exceptions, not the norm. For the vast majority of us, we're just behaving badly! If you're seated in a restaurant having dinner, you don't need to suck the rest of us into your conversation! Get up from the table! Leave the dining room! The only plausible reason for you to take the call at the table is because you left the hospital to eat and they're calling to tell you the helicopter with the organ is en route. In which case you should say, "Prep the patient, I'm on my way!"

Before you purchase a cell phone, they should make you sign a waiver stating you are aware of basic social graces and agree to observe a few rules, like:

I will not turn my ringer to maximum volume and set Jamie Foxx's "Blame it (on the Alcohol)" as my ringtone for incoming calls.
I will not engage in private phone conversations in public.
I will not talk on my cell while seated at the table, eating in a restaurant or at your house.
I will not talk on my phone during a business transaction and ask the person rendering the service to "hold on" -- like asking the cashier to hold on as you talk on the phone while trying to pay for your groceries.
I am aware I don't have to yell and will use my "inside" voice* .
I know I look stupid with the Bluetooth headset in my ear when I'm not actually on the phone or in the car.

*If you don't know what an "inside voice" is, consult any 4 year old.

If you can't say anything nice. . .

2009-05-11T21:51:00.000-07:00

There's a show on cable about the messiest jobs on the planet. Why isn't 'parenting' highlighted? Parenting has got to be one of the hardest and messiest jobs on the planet!

I've made no secret of the fact our lil' darlin' has made some choices I just plain don't agree with and don't like. Today, I listened to an interesting tirade he delivered in reference to one of his friends. It went something like this. . .

"He has no idea how he's letting his behavior damage relationships. I'm mad at him and so is his mother and Sanchez (another friend). He's angered everybody! He's going to alienate everybody who cares about him, all for some relationship that probably won't even last!"

Now, you know what must have been going through my mind. And it must have shown on my face because lil' darlin' said, "I know what you're thinking!". However, what I said was, "I know how frustrated you must be feeling".

I did taste a little blood, from biting my tongue!

Ouch!

2009-05-09T19:03:00.000-07:00

Usually, this is how I look riding my bike. Today, I ended up sprawled out on the asphalt, blinded by the sun, dazed and confused, with my bike on top of me!

I crashed into the back of Tim's bike at the crest of a small incline at the 605 Fwy. along Arrow Hwy.

The first thought I remember having was, "Thank God I'm wearing a helmet!" I actually felt my head reverberate inside the helmet as my body slammed onto the asphalt. Anyone who rides without a helmet is an idiot -- plain and simple.

I had my eyes closed most of the time, but there was an endless stream of Good Samaritans who stopped to offer assistance. One young man helped Tim get me out of the roadway and onto the curb.

Thankfully, our wonderful neighbor picked us up in their truck and brought us and our bikes home. While waiting, I just laid out on the sidewalk and tried not to cry. There's no crying in cycling! What did make me cry was the witch hazel Tim put on my cuts when we got home. My neighbors must have heard me yelling, "Blow it! Blow it!" at Tim as he dabbed my skin with a cotton swab.

After a stiff drink, a few pain killers, a nap, and a warm shower, I think I'll be fine. But, don't look for me on the bike trail for a few days. The bikes were unhurt.

Happy Mother's Day to me!

I'm Blaming It on Mid-Life Crisis!

2009-05-07T21:46:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about doing it for years, but just didn't have the guts.

What if I didn't like it? What if I couldn't manage it? What if it didn't suit me?

Well, today, I did it -- I cut my hair!

According to my mom, it didn't grow in until I was two. I've probably been fighting with it ever since then.

When I was about 6, I remember having bangs that got into my eyes. I did what any self-respecting 6-year old would do: I cut them off! I still remember that whippin'. My dad says I met him at the door and told him, "That woman tried to kill me today!"

This time around, I knew better than to sneak into the bathroom, cut it myself, and hide the evidence behind the bathtub. (Was I really that dumb?!)

And, yes, Tim loves it! He thinks I'm still fine n' sexy!

Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-07T13:15:00.000-07:00

I don't know if I've ever come across anything that seemed to capture the essence of "Mother" as well as this essay. I know I see myself in these lines. And I see some of you.

For All the Mothers Who. . .

This is for all the mothers who didn't win Mother of the Year in 2008. All the runners-up and all the wannabes. The mothers too tired to enter or too busy to bother.

This is for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?" they could say "Of course, wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK, honey, Mommy's here."

This is for all the mothers of Patriots who cannot be with their children.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and made them homes.

For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes.

And all the mothers who don't.

What makes a good mother anyway?

Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?

The ability to nurse a baby, fry a chicken and sew a button on a shirt all at the same time?

Or is it heart?

Is it the ache you feel when you watch your child disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time?

The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby dying?

I think so.

So, this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't.

This is for reading "Goodnight Moon" twice a night for a year. And then reading it again. "Just one more time."

This is for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2-year-old who wants ice cream before dinner.

This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoes before they started preschool. And for all the mothers who chose Velcro instead.

For all the mothers who bite their lips -- sometimes until they bleed -- when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green. Who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.

This is for mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purses.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.

This is for all the mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.

This is for mothers who put pinwheels and Teddy bears on their children's graves.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.

This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomachaches, assuring them they'd be just fine once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurses an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all. So hang in there.

And better luck next year, I'll be rooting for you.

Cindy Lange-Kubick

Welcome to Planet Sandra!

2009-05-05T22:37:00.000-07:00

I've recently been introduced to blogging and thought, "Why not me?!"

I'm opinionated. . .My experiences have universal appeal. . .Someone just might find my POV interesting.

So, this is where I will come to express my thoughts about:

Current Events
Family & Marriage
Community Service
Hobbies & Interests
Work

I hope you will join me!

My Seattle 'Peeps'

2009-05-05T21:09:00.000-07:00

As part of Tim's birthday celebration, we visited Seattle. When I suggested we contact his cousins to see if we could, maybe, drop in for a visit, he agreed. Well, when they found out we were coming, they graciously invited us to stay at their home. That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. . .

Mary and Henry were so nice to us, I should have been angry at Tim for not suggesting we visit them, sooner! We had a FAN-TAB-U-LOUS time with them! By the time we left their house for dinner on the first evening, they were no longer my husbands people, they were my people too!

In every conceivable manner, the family is the link to our past, the bridge to our future -- Alex Haley
Mr. Haley was so right about this and our time with Henry and Mary certainly bears this out. Meeting and getting to know our cousins has made me more complete. Funny thing is, I didn't know I was incomplete. For me, this only hardens my conviction that God is an awesome God! He used this family connection to fill me up in places that I didn't even know were empty.