Virgin, No More.

New blog post at Simonerichards.com

I've been super busy with all the steps regarding publishing Midnight Playground. It's a matter of a few weeks away.

I hope you'll join me over on the new website, read the blog posts there and give me your feedback regarding Midnight Playground.

My new reality is around the corner

Yeah! I did it. Finished the book. Been revising and editing for what seems like ages now. I've had three rounds of beta-readers and have absorbed all they suggested. Only one person didn't like it; but she still had valid comments. Now I'm finalizing the artwork, prepping the website, filling out paperwork, drawing up intellectual property contracts and generally feeling giddy about the future. It's really happening. My intention to live my life as a published author is only a few months away. It's going to be so much fun.

In between book stuff, I've been looking for a car for my Rockstar, working at my suddenly politically sensitive and busy "real job", managing to stay sane during club soccer season, doing lots of yoga (one year in so far and my body has really changed and it's no longer in constant pain -big smiles here!!), dieting and down 40 pounds since August...working on last 20. Love my life.

In the midst of all my wonderful happiness though are reminders that life is short and so unfair. I've lost two friends in the last six weeks to different medical issues: heart attack and colon cancer (yikes that's close to home!). Both men left behind kids and families that dearly loved them and a community that misses them tremendously. Both were musicians and when I heard of David Bowie's death today, I visualized them all making heavenly music together and it made me happy.

Love fully, love richly, love now
~the Philosopher

I am Titanium...

Rockstar is having his ACL reconstructed as I write this post.  I am sitting in the hospital waiting room sending positive thoughts and energy his way.  He was so sweet to me while in the holding room and under the effects of the first batch of "happy drugs".  He was holding my hand and telling me how glad he was that I was there with him, that he felt better and more calm because it was me standing there next to him and not his dad or his best friend.  That made my heart swell.  I know he was under the influence and probably won't remember it but at least I know that deep in his heart he really does love his mom.

He is facing six months of recovery and rehab.  It is going to be an interesting time for the whole family but I feel we will make it.  We survived my six months of chemo; we will get through this too.

I feel blessed that we have great doctors and great technology and that he is young and healthy.

Revisiting and remembering

Below is a link to a post from from the start of school six years ago ... oh how times have changed...
My Ladybug is a hipster, living and loving life and learning to navigate adulthood over in Portland.  My Rockstar is a junior now and my Sage, a seventh grader.  I dropped the boys off at school today per my usual start of the school year routine but there were no pictures, no hugs or kisses goodbye, simply well wishes for a great day.  And we were all okay with that. My role and importance to my children has continued to evolve.  And I'm okay with that.

Wishing everyone out there a great school year!

http://minivanphilosopher.blogspot.com/2009/08/congratulations-youve-been-promoted-to.html

Two years hence...

Wow! I went on vacation to the lake house & didn't blog once! What does that mean? And the two-year anniversary of my cancer diagnosis was last week & I didn't write  about that either! What does this say about me & where I am right now in my life? Should I be concerned?

I don't think so. I'm very busy writing & editing my first book that I'm publishing hopefully around valentines day. I'm dealing with a lot on that project which will explain the blogging deficit. But the cancer thing, that is weird especially since my quarterly blood test is Wednesday and I'm nervous as usual. Can't sleep well & get the night sweats frequently now. I'm hoping it's only menopause (early onset, chemo-induced you know)... I'll know more Wednesday. Until then, I'll keep busy moving forward with life. I won't make mountains out of a mole hill, at least not this mole hill.

Cheers xx
-the Philosopher

Update: Good visit with oncologist.  All blood tests came back great.  My CEA levels are 1.1 lowest in a year (not that 1.3 and 1.4 are very high mind you especially when anything under 5 is considered normal).  They think the pain I'm feeling in my upper left abdomen is merely functional and related to the healing process from the colon resection surgery from almost two years ago.  In addition, I don't have to go back until January.  I am now on the six-month rotation instead of every three months... NICE!!!

There were no molehills nor mountains, it's all good.

True Love - A Practice

I was introduced to the book True Love: A Practice for Awakening the Heart by Thich Nhat Hanh on the website www.brainpickings.org

(In fact, I have been introduced to quite a lot via that website.  If you are interested in expanding your intellectual capacity I highly recommend giving her a visit.)

Anyway, my interest was piqued reading her essay about this book and I rushed to the public library website and promptly reserved me a copy.  I have renewed it twice already.  It's a short book, 104 pages.  Written very simply but worth reading and re-reading.  I think I will end up just buying my own copy.  I can only renew it one more time before I have to return it.  I wanted to share with you my readers an extremely brief synopsis of the four aspects of love as described in the book.  For a much more in depth and beautifully written essay, go to brainpickings and read hers.

Here is my summary...

According to Buddhism, there are four aspects of true love:

1) Maitri meaning loving-kindness or benevolence.  It's the desire AND the ability to bring joy and happiness to the person you love.  "Because even if your intention is to love this person, your love might make him or her suffer."

2) Karuna meaning compassion.  This is the desire AND the ability to ease the pain of another person. 

To bring joy and compassion you must practice "deep-looking" or searching for understanding of your love.  Because when you know and understand his or her aspirations and his or her sufferings, you can bring joy and ease pain.  How often do we actually practice "deep-looking" with the people we love (including our family and friends)?

3) Mudita meaning joy.  "If there is no joy in love, it is not true love.  If you are suffering all the time, if you cry all the time, and if you make the person you love cry, this is not really love -- it is even the opposite.  If there is no joy in your love, you can be sure it is not true love."

and

4) Upeksha meaning equanimity or freedom.  "In true love, you attain freedom.  When you love, you bring freedom to the person you love.  If the opposite is true, it is not true love.  You must love in such a way that the person you love feels free, not only outside but also inside.  'Dear one, do you have enough space in your heart and all around you?'  This is an intelligent question for testing out whether your love is something real."

Hanh goes on to say that to love in the context of buddhism is to be there. To bring your true presence to your loved one, not only your body but your mind too.  He suggests this mantra to say to help you stay truly present, "Dear one, I am really here for you." 

I had several ah-ha moments while reading True Love.  And each time I re-read a passage or paragraph or dwell on a definition, I gain more insight into what was preventing earlier relationships from being true love.  I am definitely more at peace in my current relationship with 007 than earlier ones (especially Mike and my fox).  I am practicing deep-looking and being present.  I am learning what it feels like to love according to Buddha.  It is different, scary at times but there is no suffering like before.  I like that.  I will continue practicing true love and awakening my heart to it.

Thanks for stopping by and I hope you have true love already.  If not, may you find each other and enjoy it for the rest of your days.

"Dear one, I am here for you."
~The Philosopher

No longer "A Dozen" but "My Dozen".

Hardboiled
Scrambled
Organic
Cracked
Raw
Over Easy
Sunny Side Up
Poached

2003. January. Cold. Big Belly.  Pregnant with apprehension.  Pregnant with resentment.  Pregnant with anxiousness.  Just go.  Quit making your children cry. Empty heart.

2003.  June.  Hot.  Big Belly. Baby (the Sage) sleeping in my arms.  Ladybug & Rockstar by my side holding my hands. Just go.  Quit making your children cry. Empty heart.

2003. August.  Hot. Just go. Quit making me cry. Empty heart.

Present day.  Cold. Windy.  Not so big belly anymore.  Ladybug living in Portland.  Rockstar &
Sage by my side holding my hands.  How is my heart?

Hardboiled
Scrambled
Organic
Cracked
Raw
Over Easy
Sunny Side Up
Poached

A dozen years have almost gone by.  A dozen to match the number of years I was married.

For a long time, I dwelled on the fact that I have been alone without a significant other during these last 12 years.  Yes, I've had 'relationships'.  Some have been more heartbreaking than others.  Some have been fleeting.  Some were good.  Some started good.  Some ended good.  Some did not.  I kept thinking there must be something wrong with me.  I kept asking the universe why was I still alone?  If I'm going to be alone and single the rest of my life, please make it very clear so I can quit hoping. This was the sort of message I had been internalizing or verbalizing when stuck in traffic.  But I'm trying to change.

A good friend of mine that I met through shaking meditation once said to me to change my perspective & to change the statements from focusing on what you want less of to what you want more of.  For instance, "I want to cuss less"  re-worded "I want to have more loving words come from my mouth."  "I want to quit being fat," re-worded "I want to be more healthy."  Pretty simple.

Today while stuck in traffic, and after a particularly melancholy evening dwelling on my 12 years of aloneness, I thought that perhaps my dwelling on being alone has perpetuated it.  I decided to shift my messages from the negative and focus on the positive of being the leader of my own single life. 

I have enjoyed personal freedom.  I spend my money as I want.  I sleep in the middle of my bed.  I go where I want when I want. I say yes when it benefits me and no when it doesn't.  I have met some of the most amazing people.  I have not had to live in a house with someone who did not want to be my partner.  My heart is free to love and to be hurt and to love again.  I have proven that I can survive. I make my own happy

There have been many more positive things about being single these last 12 years than cons.  And I am hopeful that one day there will be someone who will come into my life and continue to add to those positive aspects. 

My dozen, when perspectives shift, is a beautiful rainbow of colors, butterflies, and twirling swirls repeating as often as happiness can. Sunny Side Up.

Why have I been spared?

In the last 8 days, death has impacted me 5 times. I am so humbled to still be walking this great earth.  I don't know why. My heart breaks for all the families. I don't understand why this is happening, but am continually being transformed by it. My life will never ever be the same. Sigh.

A fortnight of emotions

What a fortnight this has been!

I had a wonderful visit with my mother and her companion (#teamgary) in Florida.  Four days of bliss at the beach watching the waves slow dance with the shore, lounging by the swimming pool, attending a University of Florida football game and sipping rumchata nightly.  It was my first trip to Florida without children in nine years.  It was soul restoring.  It was long overdue.

Initially I started this blog posting out of a need to get on paper all that has happened in the last two weeks.  I started writing but it felt too juvenile.  So I started editing it, then it felt too restricted and self-censored.  I was staring at the screen frustrated at the problems I was having at writing this post.  So I walked away and did other things still mulling about which approach would be best, what words should I use and more.  And I realized that my frustration was self-induced.  No matter what I write or how I write it, I will always think it could have been better.  And that self-criticism and self-judgment was impeding my writing today.  So I said to just fuck it, write it - whether it rambles, is in bullet points, whatever just get it out.

So here goes.....

Sparky 2006-2014

The first time I saw him I knew he would become a part of our family.  I was sitting in the minivan with the kids just after church and I spotted two young beagle/lab(?) mix puppies sauntering back and forth across the street having so much fun.  I could almost hear their laughter from the smiles across their faces. 

The children and I worked with another family to corral the two dogs and put them in their backyard.  We fell in love with both dogs immediately but I knew I wouldn't have the stamina to have two puppies.  We left both dogs with the other family for our weekend trip to my brother's place in Oklahoma.  When we came back, the other family asked if we wanted one of the puppies.  We jumped at the chance and crossed our fingers that we could have the one they had named Sparky.  We brought him home that hot August day in 2006.  We were all thrilled.  I was thinking I must be crazy to take on a dog along with raising three children (11, 7 and 3) by myself.  But somehow I knew he belonged with us.

He fit right in.  He bonded with my ladybug and became truly HER dog.  Whenever she was around, he preferred her.  He would tolerate the rest of us but his heart was glued tightly and forever to her.  They played together.  She nursed him through his recovery from the neutering procedure.  (He was approximately 9 months old when he joined our family).  He followed her wherever she went.  He was her best friend.

Ladybug started playing the saxophone in 6th grade that year.  She would sit on the back porch practicing her scales and her lessons while Sparky sat beside her, howling and singing right along with her.  They were my very own lounge act.  I loved it.  She loved it.  And Sparky loved it.

He also loved to hide his prized possessions.  One time my sister gave Sparky (and our other dog Toby - we got him a year after Sparky & that was when I KNEW I was crazy) some chew toys.  Sparky loved getting chew toys and going to work immediately on them. However chew toys that resembled a bone were like gold to Sparky and he would set out to find the best hiding spot for it.  The scene would go like this:

Sparky would lurk around with the 'bone' in his mouth casting sideways glances at the two-legged and four-legged inhabitants, assessing who was watching, was it safe to hide it.  When he felt it was, he'd 'hide' it (maybe under a shoe or next to a back pack or under his sock collection).  And he'd walk back to the living room with the rest of us.  Toby would go 'find' the bone, retrieve it, bring it to the center of the room and start chewing on it.  Sparky would look at him with disbelief that it was found.  He would be thinking "How does he know?  Every. Single. Time?"  Sometimes Sparky would go so far as to hide it outside.  Toby would go out a few minutes later and bring the bone back inside.   Toby would chew on it for a few minutes and then abandon it to sit in the picture window barking at the falling leaves or two-legged creatures who might be breathing one street over. 

Once abandoned Sparky would tip toe back to the bone, pick it up in his mouth and start looking for a better place to hide it.  As long as you were watching him, he'd act like it was no big deal having a bone in his mouth.  Once he thought you weren't watching him, he'd hide it again.  Maybe this time in between shoes or besides the foot of the couch always making sure to creep away from it in order to not draw attention to it.  Within seconds of Sparky hiding it, Toby would be picking it up again.  This would go on for hours.  Watching this dynamic would leave us in stitches.

He loved going on walks around Carondelet Park.  He had to put up with being on a tandem leash and having Toby pull and bark the whole time.  When he did get to go on walks solo, he seemed to relish in the peace and quiet and attempted to pee on every tree, bush, fire hydrant, and mulch pile.  One time Ladybug had him on a walk and when they returned home, Sparky was sopping wet.  I asked what had happened and Ladybug told me through her tears and laughter that he just fell in Boat Lake.  Walking along minding his own business and not paying attention, splash! he went into the water.

He loved his sleep and especially on the big bed in Ladybug's room.  If you entered the room after they had retired for the night, he growled and barked so ferociously that if you didn't know better, you'd be concerned he'd bite your head off.  He was simply being protective.

When Ladybug went off to college and I started my chemo treatments, he followed me around.  He laid on the flokati rug beside my bed; he snuggled next to me on the couch in the basement; he laid beside the couch in the living room.  Wherever my tired, cancer-fighting body was laying he was there.  He would follow me to the kitchen, to the bathroom, outside, to the laundry room.  He became my shadow.  But his heart was still betrothed to Ladybug.  Sometimes when we would Facetime, Sparky would hear her voice and spend the whole convo trying to find her.  We thought it so cute and endearing at the time not thinking that maybe his heart was hurting with her absence.

I thanked Sparky last night for helping me through my chemo treatments, for being there when I couldn't breathe (a side effect of one of the drugs) and giving me a calm, loving face to focus on as I attempted to relax and get air back in my lungs.  I thanked him for keeping me warm all those fucking cold winter days/nights when the cold sensitivity made being anywhere painful.  I apologized to him that I couldn't help him get better.  And I thanked him for staying alive long enough to let Ladybug hold him close and kiss his face while he was put to sleep. 

Our hearts are breaking. Our grief is real.  We loved him so.

 

Sparky

2006-2014

RIP

Boys to Men

There was a small pile in the hall outside the Sage's room. I asked him what the pile was for, why was it there? He replied, "To donate to Goodwill, Mom."  I said "Oh that's right, Thursday, yes."

I looked closely at what he was giving away. It was clearly things he didn't need anymore. I got a little choked up when I saw the Spider-man sheets & the Scooby-Doo pillowcases. I don't have any more little boys in the house. Ones who would run & jump from couch to chair or who would fly from room to room with action figures in their hands & superhero capes fastened to their Jammie's. No more little boys asking to watch Shrek or Monster House for the millionth time. Or who would stand atop their red wagon outside belting out Sonia Dada's "lover lover you don't treat me no good no more" because I played it too many times while driving the minivan. No more little boys who were thrilled to receive a balloon for no reason or who collected Yu-Gi-Oh cards or built elaborate cities first with their Thomas the Train sets and then next with their Legos.  No more little boys who instinctually held my hand when walking with me or who didn't think twice about kissing me good night.  And who very innocently declared that I must have been the girl James Blunt was singing about in his song, "You're Beautiful".

No somehow, someway when my head was turned or I was napping on the couch, my little boys grew up. They have bigger beds now to hold their bigger feet. They watch MTV2 & laugh uncontrollably. They Facebook & Twitter & Instagram. They play hard and sing loudly "their songs" not mine.

But even though they're growing up, they still hug me, still talk to me about everything (and I mean EVERYTHING!). They don't hold my hand when crossing the street but they put their arms out to stop me from getting hit by the car "that just appeared out of nowhere." They listen to me as I go through chemo & do what they can to ease my pain or discomfort. We laugh & joke & cry together.  But instead of them only leaning on my shoulders, we lean on each other's.

Yes I am a bit sad that my little boys are gone, but I love the men they are becoming.  And so I move the donation pile to the front door for Thursday. It's okay. It's all okay.

Honest Sinner

Why some people persist in living in hypocrisy is beyond me... We only get one life to live.  And it is short! Why not live it authentically acknowledging faults, addressing them, embracing the love in the world? You might falter, screw up, feel a bit of pain every now and then but at least that pain is a result of living as an honest sinner... a lying hypocrite's pain ripples outward, upward, sideways and affects so many more than just himself.  And that is just cruel.

I don't have time for hypocrites.  My life is too full of love and mistakes, laughter and tears, hopes and fears all rolled up into my amazing journey.  I'll take my honest sinners any day.

Words, time, opportunities..

What showed up in my newsfeed... how timely & appropriate...
oh how the universe recognizes my struggles...

It could be over just like that!

Snap! It's over. Never to breathe again.  How do you make sense of it? Why do some live on & others are cut down right now? And what do you do?

I learned today of the passing of a former schoolmate. He was only 42. He had just returned from an anniversary weekend with his sweetheart. He was living a charmed life in Hollywood. He died of heart failure. His parents have to bury him. I look at his pictures on Facebook & cannot imagine that the world won't get to see his beaming smile anymore. I weep for the world.

Jay was a soccer player when I was a soccer stat girl. Best job ever in high school! He and his best friend Kirk were inseparable. I remember the two of them smiling, joking, teasing, flirting with me awkwardly (awkward for all of us because we were just learning how) and basically being these bright bursts of joy & energy. They were so much fun to watch on the pitch as well. A lot of fun. It is bittersweet recalling these memories now because Jay has died.

I feel for those left behind as they grieve and work to heal their hearts. I cannot imagine the incredible emptiness & ache they are feeling along with pure shock & bewilderment.

Why? Why him? Why now?

I don't want to write a bunch of cliches as a means of making sense of it. Because you really can't.  What it does is make me pause, celebrate that for a few years I got to be in Jay's beam of energy, and be very thankful & grateful for my life every day. It reminds me to not take for granted those I love nor procrastinate making time to see them, talk to them, and/or write them. Because it could all be over, just like that.  Snap.

July 18, 2013

I knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but it's still a shock to get that call. You know, the one that starts like this 'we're very sorry to have to tell you but your grandfather has just passed away.'

That's right. At 2 a.m. I got that call.

I am awake now. A little numb. Relieved for him that it's over now. His body was just done even though his brain wasn't. But 97 years is a good run. I hope I make it that long.

As I sit here reflecting about grandpa and why he died now instead of hanging on for another couple of months, one thought comes to mind: he died so I can focus on my own health & not have the stress of taking care of him too. You see, readers, the doctors found a tumor in my colon yesterday.  I will be having surgery in the next few weeks to remove it. I think grandpa gave me a gift in his own way. It's like he has said, "thank you for caring for me and handling my affairs. Now you just focus on doing what it takes to heal from your surgery & knock the cancer out."

I say back to him, "thank you. And I hope you are resting peacefully."

Godspeed, Grandpa.

A new normal is coming our way... can I cope?

So I've been single for over 10 years now raising my three kids practically on my own.  (However, I have been blessed to have had a great support system and 'village' that has kept me sane and been positive influences on my kids.)  Their father moved a few states away when he left and has a job that keeps him away from his home 30 days at a time.  Therefore, my children have not spent a whole lot of time with their dad in the last ten years.  But that's all about to change.

He and his wife have recently bought a home 45 minutes away from me.  Circumstances with his wife's ex have made it possible for them to come live here.  My kids are super excited.  I am mixed emotionally.

What is pleasing about their move:
1) Having more regular breaks from parental responsibility.  The last ten years I have had the children 99.9999% of the time.  And it wasn't easy having a newborn, 4-year old and 8-year old with no regular breaks.  Of course now they are 10, 14 and 18 so things are remarkably different and 'easier' (I say that in quotes because although it is physically easier, it is emotionally/mentally just as tough.)

2) Children get to see their father more frequently.  Because now he will be spending his time off work with his kids in the same state.  And during the summer time, the kids can be with him the whole time he is home and he can run them to their ball games and practices and dental appointments and doctor visits and buy their shoes and feed them.  (Oh my it will be nice to save a few dollars!!!)  And they can build memories together and strengthen their bonds by more frequent visits that last longer than 48 hours over random weekends.

3) Saving money.  Because they will be with their dad more, I will spend less on food, gas, shampoo, soap, toothpaste, laundry detergent and toilet paper (and significantly reduce the amount of times I find myself staring at an empty toilet paper holder because the children don't EVER change the roll! That, my dear readers, is going to end up a blog posting all it's own!!!)

What has my heart heavy about their move:
1) Although the kids will go to their dads, I will still have the dogs to take care of...  and I have not been successful in getting my ex to take the dogs along with the kids.  So I won't be completely fancy-free when they are at their dad's because my two canines will need my attention.

2) Having to see how much 'fun' they have with their dad and how he can be entirely devoted to them because he won't have to work when he is in town.  A positive trade-off to the fact that he's gone 30 days at a time.  I try to keep it in perspective but it does sting a little when they jump around full of excitement when they get to go be with him and his wife and their stepbrother and stepsisters.  They are instantly like the Brady Bunch.  And then they come home to boring, routine mom who has to work and it's just the four of us.  I hope they realize when they are older that I did the best I could for them with the circumstances I was left. 

I know the benefits are going to outweigh my nagging insecurities.  I guess the last ten years, the kids didn't really have a choice on which parent they were going to be with so, by default, they got me.  Now with him living here, they will be with him more frequently and it's possible that they could choose him over me. 

Maybe that's what's really bothering me? Potentially, not being the one who is chosen... hmmm... now that I've figured that out, I know which insecurity to start tackling, you know, while they are at their dad's.

Sweaty Armpits!!!

Oh my gawd getting older is just one biological phenomenon after another!!!
In this post Growing Older not as much fun as it seems, I wrote a paragraph about some of the physical changes you go through as you age and I naively stated that these changes "...are not necessarily welcomed but they do not shock you."    Well I can unequivocally state that the random perspiration in my armpits is definitely shocking, not welcome and I had no clue this was even coming! 

The first time it happened was last fall.  I thought it was because it was still 100 degrees outside with humidity levels approaching 100%.  But then it continued to occur throughout the winter months (maybe I was dressing too warmly?)  I thought something was wrong with me and put it on my list of symptoms to research on the internet when I happened to be watching a rerun of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days on cable and saw a scene where Kate Hudson is talking rapidly and begins to put tissues under her arm pits.  And I said "YES!"  and pointed at the screen.   I knew exactly what she was going through.  However when I saw the movie the first time ten years ago, I did not understand or even recognize the significance of the paper towel move.  It was not on my radar screen.

Last night my son, the Rockstar, asked me if I was trying to fly somewhere when he saw me doing my interpretation of the Chicken Dance in the kitchen as I was trying to dry out my armpits.  I laughed and told him to just bring me some paper towels. 

I don't know how long this is supposed to last but when I surveyed my peer group of girlfriends, they are in the same sweaty boat.  It is nice to know I am not alone.  There are many web sites devoted to hyperhidrosis.  I'm sure the answer is in there somewhere.

I wonder what physical change I can expect next? I'm doing my best to age gracefully, sweaty armpits and all.

The Silent Treatment

The Philosopher is persona non grata. 

It seems that Ladybug is intent on not talking to me as punishment for refusing to take out a $100K parent loan or refusing to co-sign a loan for a similar amount in "alternative financing" to fund her undergraduate education at her dream school in her dream city, Chicago.

I'm not sure if she thinks that by not talking to me I'll magically change my mind and agree to mortgage my life or allow her to begin hers saddled with that extreme amount of debt?  That I'll feel so guilty and miss having her talk to me and resent her active ignoring of me, that I'll cave and say "whatever you want Ladybug, just talk to me please."?  *Sigh*, my newly 'adult' child has a lot of growing up to do.

She is suffering from short-sightedness.  She is actually acutely afflicted with it.  I may have to step in with a drastic intervention if she doesn't alter her attitude around the house.  If I am persona non grata, then there is no reason for me to continue allowing her to drive the minivan or pay for the insurance or the gas or her telephone or her food or her home.  Because if I'm not there, then she is not there.  I am willing to wait another day or so before pulling the plug on her 'fun and beginning the shock treatment, so to speak. 

She is experiencing what all young women experience as they mature and get ready to head off to college, that no matter what you try to do, you can't be the queen at home.  That is the mother's divine right.  I went through it myself.  Pushing and pulling, tugging and tearing at the 'restrictive' nature of life at home.  Oh it was just awful!  Or so I thought.  Once I went away to college and began living my life on my own, I settled down and didn't necessarily push those boundaries when I was home on visits.  My Ladybug is at that pushing/pulling stage because she is experiencing another one of life's mean little lessons - you can't always get what you want. 

Oh the joy! 

Milestones, milemarkers... no it's just life!

This was an interesting weekend at the Philosopher's home.

Milestones were crossed as my eldest, my Ladybug, turned eighteen and I became officially a parent of an adult child.  She also performed in her final highschool play.  I got a little teary-eyed when she came out for her final curtain call, realizing that any other plays I may see her in will require travel and overnight stays.  Even my youngest said this morning that he is going to miss watching her perform.  He does adore his big sister.

Her birthday celebration was low-key though - just dinner with the four of us last night at a neighborhood pub.  Consumed were three cheeseburgers and one plate of hot wings.  The Philosopher is predictable, whenever possible, I have hot wings.  Oh and a salad!

My middle child, the Rockstar, finally understood the concept of doing his fair share of work around the house and did a bang-up job on the yard: mowing, trimming, weed-eating.  It was rewarding to see him respond positively to my ever-so-slight nudging.  Ahh, the sweet feeling of parental progress.

I spent Saturday afternoon running errands for my elderly grandfather.  He is in a nursing home.  He will be 97 next month.  I am the only family member in town so it falls to me to take care of his business.  I brought my youngest, the Sage, along on the errands.  We rode with the top down on the convertible enjoying the sunshine on our faces.  I did my best to keep a smile on my face even though my heart ached missing my Fox.

Saturday night, Ladybug had one last performance to give and a cast party to attend.  Rockstar spent the night at a friend's house and the Sage and I watched the Law & Order marathon for a bit and then an "apocalyptic movie" (Sage's description) on Netflix while I played a little Words With Friends (winning and losing equally). 

During the Law & Order marathon, an infomercial for http://www.tummytuckbelt.com/  came on and the Sage practically ran for the phone so I could order it. He was sold on it.  He said "I know you've been doing Zumba mom and you are getting smaller but you're kinda not going anywhere either.  You should buy this."  As the infomercial waned on and the timer in the corner of the screen ticked down, he was getting really concerned I would miss out on this opportunity.  I thanked him for his concern about my stomach. But as I tried to explain how advertising works, he simply wasn't interested. The only way I could get him to relax was to tell him that I'm sure I can visit the web site at any time to order.  I was not going to miss out.  Sunday morning came and the Sage's first question was  "So did you buy the tummy tuck?"   I just laughed and told him "not yet, not yet." 

I am not offended by his eagerness to help me.  He has heard me complain of my c-section belly for his entire life.  He sees me exercise daily and watch what I eat and has seen me lose 40 pounds over the last few years.  He is simply trying to support my efforts.  I suppose I need to work with him on finessing his persuasive argument skills though. (And for the record, although I have not bought one of those belts, I am intrigued...)

The really difficult moment this weekend came when I, singlehandedly, crushed Ladybug's dreams of attending college in her favorite city, Chicago.  I tried to explain that accumulating $100K+  in student loans  to fund the difference in what the university was offering her in financial aid and what the costs were to actually attend it, was short-sighted, financially irresponsible and not worth it.  I stuck to my decision and to say that she was not happy with it would be an understatement.  There were tears, raised voices, exclamations that "I just didn't understand how she will die if she is not in Chicago."  It was not the sort of conversation you envision yourself having when you are first gazing down at your child's sleeping newborn face and you are filled with all those warm fuzzies that come with being a new parent.  Nope at that point in time all you think you will talk about are butterflies, rainbows and chocolate ice cream.  It sucks to crush dreams.  Sometimes though, parental progress equals extremely uncomfortable and difficult feelings.  But you do what you have to do.

However, it's a new week.  Rain everyday.  I've got a lot to keep myself busy: a few projects at work, grandpa's business, and my writing (more than just blogging).  Woven throughout it though will be continuing to work on healing, loving & missing my Fox and asking the universe to continue to take care of us, all of us. 
 

The Rollercoaster

For some time now I've been on a roller coaster.  From the first moment I met my Fox, to when he kissed me the first time and the last time, to when he asked me to marry him the first time and the last time, to when he declared he had not felt this way about anyone in his life for well over twenty years to when he said goodbye, it has been a rollercoaster.

On this ride I have felt such joy lying in his arms, gazing into his sparkling blue eyes, kissing his dimples, watching him toss his head back when he laughed and hearing his voice from 4,000 miles away tell me everything would be all right because he loved me and he wanted only me.  On this ride I have felt such sadness during my Fox's prior attempts to withdraw from me.  That sadness immediately washed away at the first text or facetime or phone call and I would begin the joyful climb upwards again on this rollercoaster.

Then on March 30, 2013 the rollercoaster careened downwards slamming into the wall of sadness and emptiness, interspersed with frustration and anger, shattering our hearts into a million pieces. And I fight every urge to reach out to my Fox to tell him how much I love him and miss him, to ask him to love me again, to see his smile, to hear his voice, to feel his presence in my life.  But I don't because he asked me not to and I love and respect him.  He said he had to prove to himself and to me that this was for the best.  (Funny though, I never asked him to prove it to me.)

Now my rollercoaster ride has no upward hill of joy, it is simply stuck in sadness (and anger and emptiness and confusion and sorrow and pain).  I try to stay busy but my Fox occupies my thoughts as he has done every day since we met, only now there are many more tears than smiles.  The rollercoaster creeps along slowly, weakening the joists which hold me together. 

I know this ride will end and one day I won't be sad anymore (nor angry nor empty nor confused) but I suspect it will be because I will be numb.  I hold on to my memories, though, and go to him in my dreams to relive the love and joy that once permeated my entire existence.  And I pray that one day, if the universe allows it, my Fox will kiss my tears away, hold my hand and ask me back on the journey with him only this time it won't be on a rollercoaster.