snowbound

Seriously. This looks adorable. And like he knows what he is doing. I finally had to stop watching from the lounge window as he gesticulated to his group instructor and tried to take off one ski and put on the other and just generally, and clearly even from a distance, tried to do things his was. The important thing though is that this picture is awesome.

We are at a ski resort. It was a plan long before the Great Big Blizzard of the East was a twinkle in anyone's eyes. we had set Caleb up for 2 days "sit" skiing -something he has done once or twice a year for years with an organization that does adaptive sports. He love it. This year I decided we should all go along and Jesse was ready for lessons. So I made all the arrangements, my sister said she'd come stay with mom. And then the forecasters started their thing. I sobbed when I heard travel might be impossible Friday night. I was desperate. We booked another night (at this point we might as well have flown to Bermuda (hyperbole)) and I left Thursday night. Bernie, with son #2 and friend, left early Friday morning -by which I mean 12:30am. Still that was a good choice. The mountains were slick by morning light.

We settled in. The skiing for Caleb was canceled Saturday but the other big boys still snowboarded in the blowing snow. I just worked on Ppt slides so I'd be free the play by the time the sun came out. Good plan huh?

Thing is some how I ended up the one holding the boots, trading coats with Caleb when his zipper broke, and not being fond of my husband when he opted to ski (as I had encouraged him to do), stuck in the "Welcome Center" with free internet but no car, no food, a long walk from the condo, and still hauling around the boots, and my batteries are running down. I am still working on feeling very sorry for myself. I'd like to say I have kept it to myself but I had to call the skiing husband to pick me up and drive me here when I got lost walking from the ski lodge (no internet there without a password) -so he could kinda tell at that point I was not so happy. Actually I had not completely revealed my secret until , noticing my snippyness, the man asked, "Wasn't this supposed to be a relaxing break?" Oh boy. Yeah. See the boots I am carrying because you didn't want to put them back in the car and failed to notice that I would have to them around for 4 hours? Or the lecture prep I made myself finish yesterday to be "free" today, or the cooking and... -no I actually skipped the cooking complaint. Even I know I kept professing to enjoy it- and I did until he said that. Then suddenly I was totally abused. And really, the boots are those cute little frog rainboots of Jesse's (in case you were picturing something a bit more burdensome).

When will I stop thinking I can run away and not find myself waiting where-ever I go?

Some one sent a response to my last blog but I don't think I can reply directly so let me answer the question here. No, I do not know about the Defense Travel System because I am in the military. I know about it because I am a poor innocent victim whose husband is a civilian working for the military and I spend many lonely hours waiting for him to return from doing travel ... paperwork. If I can't sleep I ask him to explain the DTS to me and as my eyes glaze over and I drift off I am vaguely aware of him beginning to seethe and his blood boiling so not only do I get to sleep but I am also warmer.

Otherwise my topic du jour is it being February already and I wasn't even really getting started with January. The graduate class I am teaching is taking much more time this semester because I am trying to make the students happier by providing more complete Powerpoint slides. Now they are beginning to look like I do when what's his name starts talking about the DTS, as I read through them -and yet I still had a student ask if I could post the "important" points from the discussion after I go through the slides. Really. I am earning my sainthood because I did NOT say there were no important points. Someday some one should do a study on how Ppt has destroyed education as we knew it. No slides and they complain, add comments as you go they complain you should post those too, don't add comments and you are "just reading through" -then why even bother coming to class? Oh and when I write things on the chalkboard there is the contingent that wants it on a "Smart board" so it can be saved. Take notes? Come to class? That is so unrealisitic! Reality check. This is a vent. The vast majority of the students are not like this. Then again they don't whine so I don't hear them. And I just keep tryin to grease the squeeky wheel ....$%&^()_+ not actual bad words but as I wrote that last sentence I remembered the bread rising in the oven (off) that had a lovely caraway and salt topping -2, almost 3 hours ago. I just had to re- punch it down so the topping is now a filling (ish) and I will be up late waiting for it to rise again and bake. It seemed like a good idea to make bread this evening- no, - now it is in the refridgerator and hopefully the yeast (exhausted by now anyway) will rest and can start over in the morning.

Does this explain why I haven't been blogging? This was supposed to be my free time. The thing about "caretaking" (for lack of a better word but when I have more energy the first thing I'm going to do is come up with a better word) is the constant little alarms and interuptions. Jesse has been much more independent lately, entertaining himself (when he isn't entertaining me) but that also means unexpected 4 yr old initiated activities. Today it was a trip for Grandma to see his room. That's right. Suddenly on their schedule -not mine, my mom is going to climb the stairs to see his new bed. He cheered her along, "Good job grandma. You are the best, I am poud of you." Still I couldn't exactly stay in the kitchen (or at the computer) during all this. And she made it and I did not have to cushion her fall -which is about the best I could have done. And meanwhile I had to run up and down and up and down to keep up with laundry etc etc. With this much exercise I should be losing weight.

But no, my out-let has been cooking since we all need to eat. And boy do we. Last week it was sea scallops in white wine and garlic with grilled steak, potatoes fried in olive oil (after precooking in microwave), and spinach sauteed in the scallop pan juices, then chicken thighs with sundried tomatoes, fresh herbs (cold, but fresh), dried mushrooms, more white wine, all over rice. Pancakes with grated apple and cottage cheese and cinnamon, pancakes with blueberries and homemade syrup with hazlenut liquer, biscuits with grated cheddar with carmelized onions (I have no idea where this cheese came from but I found it in my fridge -thanks to whoever left it here). Impromptu cheese sauce (the way my mom taught me to do it), everything from scratch, all coated in butter and/or olive oil to lessen my guilt. I cook for affirmation. I can get this right. Well except the bread, at least not tonight.

And Caleb. He is getting to class but more than that I don't ask. If I do he might tell me something that would worry me. My sweet shy daughter is being pulled into those college dramas -not the ones on stage but if you are a female you know what I mean. The other son has a lovely girlfriend. I still love the old one. My eyes are closed -just tell me when we get there.

The snow is beautiful. So is all this other stuff.

That's me. An excellent likeness. Jesse says his older brother put those things on me sticking out of my head and that there is a hole for a chipmunk by my feet. And when I cut his hair yeaterday he threw himself on the floor when he saw himself in the mirror crying ,"I'm not awsome and strong anymore." Sure enough same older brother sticking things into my head had told him his hair made him strong. After some assuring him this was not true I went back to folding laundry downstairs and along he comes and annouces, "You are wight Mom. I am still awesome." Ah, self esteeem.

Meanwhile Grandma is not feeling so great. The gluing of the other vertebrae just didn't do anything. Not better, not worse. I think. It is hard to sort it out since the one thing my mom is not good at is tracking her own pain. She lies to me, she lies to herself. She just can't admit it hurts until it is way past hurt or she is just generally lousy feeling. Unfortunately there has been a lot of that lately. I asked one evening how she was and she said (forlornly), "Fine, I'm just hoping I'll be able to find clean underwear tomorrow." I told her hope was a good thing. Much better than actually letting me know she had run out of clean underwear. I was willing to hope too. She doesn't want to be a bother. She also doesn't want to get out of bed much or go without coffee.

The college girl is back but not without a little drama first (think speeding when your driver's license has expired which you put off telling anyone about because who has time to go to the DMV and they didn't send a notice). Still, and even if it weren't for the babysitting, I miss her alot. Jesse took me ona "flashlight" adventure and we explored the basement and saw "Carowin's bed" and he said he would cry he missed her so (he didn't but it is the thought that counts). And Caleb has started classes -so I have started stressing every Tuesday and Thursday over his getting the bus and getting home and all that. His stammer seem especially bad right now (it has always fluctuated) so when he does call I hold my breath until he gets out that he wanted to know if he could buy lunch... or something that is not really a reason to stop breathing at all.

And then there is my other life not doing laundry and fetching drinks and worrying about children big and small. I spent an hour yesterday trying to print out and save a class roster because Blackboard (tm I'm sure) is the most horrendous piece of software ever devised (excepting the Defense Travel System of course). And then I spent 2 hours in the evening covering a chalk board with numbers and arrows only some of which I had to erase or apologise for. If they only knew! I'm just hoping I find clean underwear tomorrow.

A New Year (old dead cat)

Nothing changes around here but the cats. This one is gone (still) but the metallic confetti covers my house again. This must be about the 15th New Year to be ushered in by letting children glitter my house. It doesn't seem crazy to me. We get up some (children and confetti come to think of it) to reuse the next year, and some just goes in the vacuum bag (confetti only) and some, the lightest pieces, floats behind the furniture and into the vents to reappear some dull day in the future and remind me that the year began with hooting and shouting and fizzy drinks and children being very silly. True this year only one of mine was being VERY silly -joined by two neighbor kids and abetted by two much calmer older siblings.

My mom stayed in her bed and watched a clock that was 10 minutes fast so she thought she was being ignored for the ringing in -but she was not and 2 very thoughtful young people (only one of whom I take credit for) toasted it with her. True we did leave her behind for the illegal fireworks but only because she would have slowed us down if the police came by. (For the record I only watched them and had nothing to do with their importation or use -other than thanking the criminals for sharing of course).

So on this the first business day of the New Year I called the doctor's office to check on the MRI results from last week. Another cracked vertebrae and another appointment to cement it back -after another appointment for no medical value except to dot the i's on the Medicare paperwork. I wanted to curl up and scream just because of the scheduling (my first lecture ofr the semester on the eveing of the procedure naturally). And I can't say my mom took this well. It is hard seeing her be in pain and all that but it is also hard realizing that some of her toughness over the years has been that she really has had very few physical ailments to deal with. She actually said to me this evening when her walker got pushed aside that we just didn't realize what it was to a handicapped person and that was why we didn't push it back immediately. She said this sitting across from my Caleb. I tried to tell her we were just tired and forgot and she insisted it was a lack of understanding for handicaps. Now mostly I think my mother is practically perfect in everyway but this was one of those moments when I did not. How she could think after almost 25 years we don't get it I'm not sure. Look, I know she is way better about all this aging than I will be (except I swear by whatever I'm allowed to swear by, in keeping my teeth), but evn she can be difficult at times.

My other half and I are going to make a list of the things we will NOT do when we are old, or in-laws (I mean the parental kind, it's too late for the sibling ones) or grandparents. We are going to make this list and put it somewhere safe and well labeled so we will see it when the time comes and REMEMBER.

Tomorrow Caleb starts classes. His sister, who has sometimes* been known to get lost, is driving him in. He can't read the map on the college website and Jesse is supposed to return to preschool from the Holiday break but has announced his "real friends" aren't there and only "4 year olds" are and he is "done" with preschool. And I am trying to finish writing a synopsis of some research articles, grade a comp and prepare those blasted Powerpoint slides so the students won't complain about notetaking this semester. And I am trying to lose weight the hard way -that is without giving up any actual food or exercising. Just through sheer will power and will power alone. I will let you know how it goes. Carolyn made a chocolate cake -I am just being supportive.

*delicately worded in case she reads this

Toughing it out

I have a cold. I hate colds. They make me grumpy and extra opionionated. I have been sharing my opinions freely lately. Honesty is fine in theory. But in practice it definitely depends. My mom does not believe in honesty when it comes to how she feels, -sort of. She has always believed that if you deny the pain your denials will start to be true. She taught me that a "fake" smile" soon becomes real -and she was mostly right. It just isn't the whole truth because sometimes when you don't take care of the immediate little pain it grows in to one you can not ignore (but enough about child rearing ....ba da dum). She has hit that unable to ignore it point more and more of late. And then not only is the pain overwhelming but also her sense of shame because a strong enough person would ignore it. She never would have punished us for being complainers, she wasn't really unsympathetis to pain BUT it was always quite clear where virtue lay. The tough women in our family got up and kept going, taught themselves to walk again after polio, never cried when they cut their fingers off (well, only two and only the ends). That sort of thing. Some how my children all pride themselves on not crying (well not the 4 year old -he's pretty impressed at his own tears) and I'd swear it's not my doing. I got the guilt over the tears but I also got the tears (I'm thinking from my father's side). Even my sweet other half is a weeper (the tears flowed during the first 10 minutes of UP).

So what is my point? I honestly, honestly don't know. Maybe there is a difference betwen the truth and honesty. I can't see the answer -even with that supposedly 20/20 hindsight (stupid, stupid saying). We just have to rely on that stuff that covers a multitude of sins.

Caleb did get over his headache. The daughter on the ski trip naturally got snowed in and several father later driving all over the state she is home. Mom, obviouly has not gotten over her aches. Another MRI was schedlued for today but it turned out that getting a 91 year old out of the house at 6:30am, in the dark, and the cold, down a narrow icey path in the foot plus snow when she was totally miserable was beyond us. The next available appointment is a ful week from now. For the first time in many years we will not be having Christmas at her house because the trip would just be too much and there is not a good place for her to sleep on the first floor there. We will all be here. Complicated family politics ensue...

The picture is Jesse after playing in the snow -the actual snow picture wouldn't download for some reason. So here he is teaching his dad "Kor-rah tay". Where he got it we don't know.

Cooking tip -hey I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies using all this extra sugar stuff from a batch of caramel corm someone gave us in them (replacing not in addition to the called for sugar). Worked. Frugal, that's me.

Next blog, "Why doctors can't even spell team."

3, no 4, 5 ring circus?

This is escapist blogging. Jesse is listening to "Twas the night before Christmas" (talking bear, 75% off at CVS after some long ago holidays), mom is tucked up in a quilt watching the news, Caleb is sleeping under a comforter -on the upstairs hall floor because it is 10AM and he just had a grand mal seizure- while he was trying to watch Jesse for me -so I could put the finishing touches on a final exam so the students who misread the schedule and already bought their plane tickets could take it early -and before Jesse was due at the pediatrician for another shot so he can stay in preschool -and right after the college girl (ours that is) called looking for her Dad ("I need to talk to Dad," tends to send chills up my spine) -and now Jesse is crying on my lap explaining his orange peeling injury (I'll ignore the part about trying with a knife since there is no blood), and I am pretty sure I have completely lost control of this sentence.

Grand mal by the way means (pardon my French) "big bad" -rough but accurate translation. Caleb's big bad seizures last several minutes and he twists and doubles while I keep my hand on his back and pray nothing breaks. He always knows they are coming so he came out of his little brother's room to where he could lie down and call me (shout out). I called the department secretary (not 911) to be sure the exam had made it and apologize that it still needed a header while he was seizing. Jesse wanted to be with us. That was tricky -I have not attempted to explain seizures to him and usually some one else can keep him occupied. I did finally convince him to go "check on Grandma" -unfortunately she was in the bathroom so then I sat with Caleb listening to Jesse pound on the bathroom door shouting, "Open the doe-oar Gan-ma. I haf to check on you. Are you OK?"

At some point then between rescheduling appointments, and checking on the college girl (budget crisis), I was crying and hugging my mom and insisting she was not a burden as she claimed. -And then I feel those 4 year old arms come around me telling me not to cry and as he assured me, "You are not a burden, moomy, you are not a burden."

We did go to Bermuda. And this was just the day we got there. It is such along way from where we live. It just doesn't take that long to get there. And we waved at the Queen (Elizabeth II, of England, of course). She had a big dark pink hat to match her dress and I have just spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to post just one still from the video I have so you could see the big (dark) pink blur of her going by. We were only about 15 feet away and I had had some rum swizzle and I squealed alot so Elizabeth (II) was probably glad they kept going. It is embarassing how giddy I was, especially since I really thought I didn't care and was above that sort of thing. But on the other hand she's not just some celebrity. She's a woman with a mildly dysfunctional family and really odd taste in hats and I was sorry when I realized that because of my sunglasses we really didn't make actual eye contact.

So that's my funny story from our escape (other than the one about Bernie "laying down" the moped after we saw the Queen and my putting a product called "Afterbite" on the abrasion thinking it was antiseptic rather than the amonia it is). As the picture shows it was very escapist. An amazing little (little) bit of heaven for 3 unexpectedly dry and sunny days.

We came back from that little (little) bit of heaven to find the virus (I'd like to think it was swine flu) had incubated in myself and Caleb and was now ready to be seen and heard. Mine when onto my- is there a word for sinuses that doesn't sound so dweeby?, Caleb's to his lungs but not quite pneumonia so antibiotics all around (and some for my dear one's abrasions). In fact the dear one had to take my mom in for various scans as I was still hacking. And the scans showed another spinal break and therefore meant more doctor's to be seen and they tried putting cement around the break (I assume it is better than the stuff we used for the walk way pavers) and for a brief shining moment she wasn't an old lady -well not very old, certainly NOT 91. It seemed like she was one of the ones the doctor said have immediate relief and she didn't need the brace thing anymore (no more 3am calls to help her in and out of it!) and even her vision was better. Honestly she was reading street signs on the way home that several other members of my family could not read (and two of them are drivers), and sitting up straighter than I have seen for months and happy. And then we got home and she walked in and all the old pain came back. And she has shrunk up again and lif is gray and closing in on her. And if I just thought she was all worn out it wouldn't be so bad but I saw that few hours with no pain so I know who her enemy is. No, that's not it -I am just seeing another tool he has. As Christians we are supposed to be all about victory. That is the substance of things hoped for here.

Oh, and the graduate students I teach are complaining that I make them take notes and don't post everything in Powerpoint. They aren't all complaining (I'm pretty sure) but a few vocal ones did so to someone in the department and as I am as low on the totem pole as one can possibly be and happy students who will bring their friends along are preferred I have heard all about it. I know I can improve (please) in lecturing. And if not for the hotflashes during lectures or some family member admitted to a hospital right before class, or the four yr old so darned cute I hate to leave him, I'd be better focused -never the less, I like chalkboards and I am pretty convinced they are a brilliant learning tool. But grrrrr.... I will not rant about todays students, I will not rant, I will not rant. Well maybe later.

Thus no time even for self-indulgent blogging the last three weeks.

Cooking tip (your reward if you got this far): Amazing "guacamole" we had at a community event and have reconstructed it at home -it's easy and I swear this combination works. 1 mashed avocado, chopped mango -(canned Food Lion brand worked fine), and (here's they oh wow part) pomegranate seeds- enough of the fruits so that any spoonful has a few seeds with a little more mango, -then sprinkle in some salt, and a little lemon. Worked as a side with swordfish (which was not canned or from Food Lion). Also looks very spiffy.