Kangatopia

It’s my lunch quarter hour and I still have about thirty seconds left to list the re-caps.

Bear came back from Disney World and he had, of course, an amazing and wonderful time. I think he was really happy to be home.

Monkey is doing great. She did her homework all on her own last night and she is showing some real improvement in her writing skills.

Winston has had pneumonia. Not a serious case, and she is now much, much better.

I still haven’t found a house. There’s a place close to the kid’s school that I am considering. It’s a spacious, detached townhouse - or garden home as it’s called in the listing. I’ve got another one in mind as well that’s closer to my dad’s and Winston’s daycare. I went by it last night to take a look and happened to arrive at the same time as the constable who was serving eviction papers to the current tenant. Since the current tenant has already moved out, the constable took the time to relieve any fears I might have had about the area or living in a house where the previous tenant was thrown out.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 17th, 2007 at 11:50 am and is filed under Just Mommy, The Wild Animals & Former Prime Minister. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

I have just been informed that my boss has called a meeting for this afternoon at 4pm in our chairman’s office. There will, apparently, be a strict requirement that we must all share in the responsibilities of finishing off the local stock of vodka, gin, wine, rum, nutrient rich bloody mary mix and other available mixers that will be purchased at the liquor store across the street just prior to the meeting.

Oh, Thank God.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 17th, 2007 at 11:40 am and is filed under Just Mommy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

I’ve gotten kind of behind on the updates. Granted, when the kids look back on this in later years, they probably won’t see the point of the understatement.

“Hey, Mom,” they’ll think, “you never said a word about my 5th birthday, or about the time you shouted obscenities at my tricycle when you blew out the tube while you were trying to inflate it.” (Hopefully, they’ll think that’s funny when they’re older.)

Bear is going to Disney World tomorrow morning with his friend and his friend’s parents. My over-riding thought as we discussed this trip, and how long he’ll be away, etc, has been how nice it will be to have a relaxed weekend with the girls with minimal bickering. When all three of them are together, they become a whirlwind of argument and tense discussions. When it’s just two of them, any combination of the two, they generally get along pretty well. If I had planned better, I would be taking the girls to the beach or something while their brother is off cavorting with the fantasy of Disney. School is out on Monday and Tuesday, and so this might have been a lovely little holiday for us. But, with all that I’ve had on my mind – the thought to take the girls away for the weekend didn’t occur to me until I was driving them all to school this morning.

In any case, over the last several days I have been giving a small amount of thought to what Bear will need for his trip. I wasn’t ignoring it completely, but I wasn’t exactly getting everything together early either. In fact, I finally wrapped up the packing at about midnight last night so that I could drop his suitcase off with his father this morning (which, incidentally, I completely forgot to do.) Filling a suitcase for my son so that he could go spend the next five days with people I’ve known for three years, but don’t know incredibly well, was simply an item on my “to-do” list. Preparing for the emotional onslaught of the fear of allowing my baby to go off to another state and a crowded series of theme parks with people with whom I have only a passing friendship didn’t occur to me until I hugged him good-bye this morning when I dropped him off at school. His father will pick him up this afternoon, drive him to his friend’s house and then Bear flies out very early in the morning. I won’t see him again until he gets back next Wednesday night. So, there I was hugging Bear very tightly in full view of his classmates (oh! The embarrassment!) and doing my best to blink back tears.

There is very little dignity in feeling sorry for one’s self, and yet there I am allowing my self-respect to flap wantonly in the wind. I want Bear to go on this trip because I don’t know when I could afford to take him myself, and for reasons which dip way too far in the bugaboos of my psychology – I really want my kids to experience Disney World before they bury the innocence and wonder of childhood too deep and don the lenses adulthood will give them. What bothers me is that I am not taking Bear myself. It worries me that he will not be instantly within reach. I am feeling sorry for myself, I guess, because he’s old enough now to take a trip like this without me and it’s another reminder of how quickly these years flash by.

So, now, if you will excuse me, I am off to drive Bear’s luggage to his father and maybe engage in a little fast food therapy.

Later…

There is plenty in my life to be positive about. (Warning: fried chicken euphoria is underway)

This morning we happened to arrive at the school at the same time as Monkey’s new school friend. Immediately, upon seeing each other and hugging, Monkey and her friend linked their hands together and walked hand in hand into the school. My God, it was charming and heart achingly adorable.

Speaking of Monkey, a few weeks ago we celebrated her birthday at Chuck E. Cheese. I was very worried whether I would be the only adult there to control seven children, but one of the other parents stayed and then my brother and sister-in-law showed up with my amazingly sweet nephew (well… not so amazing, actually… I am absolutely negligent in my protection of my children when compared to my sister in law.) The kids, and especially Monkey, played, skipped, laughed, ate cake, danced with Chuck E., played some more. I didn’t realize until the other parent and I were joking about sneaking off to the Mexican place next door to down a couple of shots, but Chuck E. Cheese serves beer.

I promise that I didn’t have even one little glass. Oh, but God, I thought long and hard about the glorious stress relieving effects of alcohol in terms of trusting that the 17 year old girl at the door wouldn’t let any of the kids in my care leave with a stranger.

Monkey’s birthday went off without a hitch, and now after all the fanfare – she is a lovely six year old, with a competitive nature that keeps her feet on the ground.

Winston has been battling a cold this week, and a relatively high fever saw her spending time with Mommy. Yesterday I did my best to sort through a work project from home while Winston watched the Disney Channel, ate bananas and played with her Barbies. At around 3pm a show came on the Disney channel, which caused me reason to stop and question their judgment when a young teenage character propositioned another young teenage character to a game of tonsil hockey. It was at that moment that we switched it to Nickelodeon.

Towards evening Winston and I drove out to our favorite local bike shop so that I could replace the computer I bought a year ago with a new one under the manufacturer warranty. My old bike computer had an uncanny ability to register speeds of up to, or possibly greater than, 100 miles per hour, but generally only when it was inside the house and sitting by itself on the kitchen table. After I rode last night with the new one, I placed it on the table and it too began registering uncannily high speeds without a single flashing spoke in sight.

Next week (and this could just be the fried chicken talking) I am planning to begin a fairly strict diet and exercise plan. Since darkness comes earlier these days, I am not sure yet how I am going to maintain the exercise portion but I’m hoping that there will be plenty of uneventful nighttime rides in my near future.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 5th, 2007 at 3:41 pm and is filed under The Wild Animals & Former Prime Minister. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Feeling blue? Heart sometimes works better than a pill

by Kelli Renfrow

09:44 AM CDT on Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Sometimes, when I’m driving around on a dark day wondering where it all went wrong, I decide I’m going to give in and take the pills.

Antidepressants, that is.

Maybe you just can’t hang on in our culture without them.

A recent study by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that antidepressants are the most commonly prescribed drugs in the country.

I confess; I’ve talked to my doctor about it.

At each annual exam, we conclude the same way.

Everything checks out, she says. Anything I’d like to discuss?

Well, yes, I say. At times, my mood is this. My energy level is that. My stresses are these.

Time for pills?

She listens with compassion and says: No.

Eat right, get more rest, exercise and try a multivitamin.

In my case, I know she’s right.

At least medically speaking.

And when I follow her advice, the physical aspects of stress lessen and tend to stop complicating the emotional aspects of the blues.

(I’m only talking about the occasional bout that’s endemic to the human condition, not the kind that requires professional treatment.)

Now, what to do about those emotional tidal waves that crash into me at times and make me feel like I’m, well, losing it?

The bigger picture

It’s time to think about it in larger terms than whether I’ll adopt a prescription lifestyle.

Perhaps a prescription is enticing, because it seems easy, fast and convenient.

Words that once described a microwave now describe everything about us, and I fear we’re nuking our souls with the drugs we use to keep a grip.

But I don’t think we’re sad because we’re busy. I think we’re bored.

Bored because everything is easy, fast and convenient. Though we do more, less of it fully engages our imagination and talents.

Our creative spirits have been trampled in the wake of our multitasking extravaganza.

Personal renaissance

It’s time for a personal renaissance: art for the artist’s sake.

Naturally, the obstacles of time and money immediately arise. But in my life, I’m beginning to see that this can be a matter of perspective.

While being busy has its own costs, the resources it takes to cope add up, too. I’ve spent a lot on Band-Aids rather than finding a remedy. The irony is that I’ve had to learn to waste time and money in a productive way.

Finding ways to express your creativity seems to require figuring out what you enjoy.

For me, writing and cake decorating turned out to be winners. But learning to sew was a disaster.

The failures won’t lessen the value of figuring out what it is that gives you the chance to throw yourself into something wholeheartedly.

And, really, it is the heart’s question we have to answer.

There’s no pill for that.

On the contrary, the pills we might call a cure probably are trying to silence that nagging voice that urges us to become more complete, to fire on all cylinders.

But in one of life’s elegant twists, exploring our creative sides reveals creative ways to fight off the blues.

And that’s a side effect I’d much rather risk.

Kelli Renfrow works in the marketing department of The Dallas Morning News.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 2nd, 2007 at 9:41 pm and is filed under Poetry & Other Writings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Click here for the link.

Message in bottle: Marriage meant to be

Mon Oct 1, 4:39 AM ET

RACINE, Wis. - Melody Kloska and Matt Behrs take it as a sign they were meant to get married.

After tying the knot on a Lake Michigan beach on Aug. 18, they released a bottle containing their wedding vows. A few weeks later, the bottle was found by Fred and Lynnette Dubendorf, of Mears, Mich., who were also married on a beach — exactly 28 years before Kloska and Behrs.

“It was meant to be,” Kloska said. “This was a sign to me.”

Kloska, 46, and Behrs, 41, have been together for five years, but with several failed marriages between them, they had doubts about remarrying.

They finally did it in a sunrise ceremony near the Wind Point Lighthouse in Wind Point in southern Wisconsin. They invited a few guests, read their own vows and released two balloons.

When it was time to throw the bottle sealed with their name, address and wedding vows into the lake, Behrs went to the rock farthest out in the water.

He threw it underhand, but the bottle landed back on the sand where Kloska was standing.

“After laughing so hard, I tossed it back to him to release it again into the lake,” she said. “It landed not too far from where he threw it. My thought was that with our luck, it would wind up in front of the house next-door to the lighthouse.”

Instead, it floated across Lake Michigan and landed in the path of Lynnette Dubendorf, who was scanning the beach for trash to clean up while she walked her dogs. She spied the clear plastic bottle partially buried in the sand and noticed the note inside.

“I opened it and read it and said, `Oh, this is pretty cool, it’s somebody’s wedding vows,’” she said. “I thought, `Wow, how funny, we were married on the beach, too, and on the same day.’”

She initially didn’t plan to respond, thinking an answer would only encourage people to toss litter into the lake.

“Then I thought, `That’s selfish, I really should respond,’” she said. So she wrote Kloska and Behrs to tell them of her discovery.

The letter read, “We thought you would want to know where your message in a bottle ended up! We picked it up on the beach between Pentwater and Silver Lake on Sept. 19. An ironic note, we were also married on the beach! Here in Michigan by Pentwater. Even more ironic, it was on August 18, 1979. We wish you both the best of luck in your new lives together.”

Behrs and Kloska had to read the letter several times to believe it. Kloska was surprised the bottle made it across the lake.

“I took it to mean that there’s hope yet,” she said.

This entry was posted on Monday, October 1st, 2007 at 11:30 am and is filed under Poetry & Other Writings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.