This and That, Frick and Frack

I stood in the shower tonight with the hot water scalding my skin but took no notice as tears streamed down my face. My head was pounding, my heart was pounding, and it seemed as though my eardrums might have been pounding as well. Why is there a recall on Excedrin?!? For crying out loud! I took an aspirin instead....it helps but I hate the idea of my blood thinning...or my liver being punished.

I don't think the pain was the only cause for the tears. I loathe it when my son is sick. Ear infection, cold, and healing bug bites (which were acquired elsewhere because I would never allow a bug near my son and heaven help the bug who does bite my son while he is under my watchful eye....). I dislike it when he refuses to eat because he's feeling so crappy. It stresses me out. And that's no good when you yourself are sickly. Reminds me of the time we had both gotten sick when ex went on a hunting trip. Remember how I SWORE I would never do sick baby alone again whilst I myself was sick? Life is humorous.

Seems I'm always ratting myself out. Like the time I was given a calling in church as the Relief Society pianist! How totally and utterly comfortable I was in that position. Happily tinkling away on the piano even if I was horrible. But how appreciative all the women were even though my suck-age was like on the highest level. It was soooo  nice to be appreciated. And then the Bishopric gave me a call on the telephone which I missed. The counselor left a cryptic message and instant panic mode. They're going to release me from my position and ask me to be in the Relief Society or...Primary (children ages 4-12years). Nope! They just want me to give a talk or what others might call a sermon? I accepted gladly, happy to be still holding my position as pianist. And then I gave the talk and opened my big mouth and said," I thought I would be released and given another calling that would throw me out of my comfort zone..." About a month later I was released and called to volunteer with the Young Women which that was the last thing I thought I'd be asked to do. And it's not a bad thing. It's a lot more time consuming. But the point is....sometimes I just ask for it, ya know? LOL!

Kinda like when growing up, you learn not to say, "Wow, the garden needs weeding..." Because who's weeding shortly thereafter? Yes, curve balls so to speak.

Anywho. It feels like it's been a rough week. Next month will be a rough month. With camp. Isaac turning four. That's the kicker...lil man turning four. Let me step away in tears now because that just escapes me that he really is turning four....oy, the sap that I am!

Family Roles

I heard a talk/sermon in church I think last Sunday. It was a talk about the roles we play in our families. And it made me think and ponder on the role I play in my family. And I must say, I left myself confused. I know the roles my parents play. They are, you know, the leaders, the guiders, the educators. The old man and the old woman. I started thinking about the roles my siblings played:

Dallace- the intelligent, genius one. The one who could see things from a totally different perspective, therefore, keeping all of our perspectives refreshed and not so uptight. He is the thinker. The brainstormer. Thoughts and ideas are always brewing in that mind of his. If there are questions to be answered, he will most likely have them and if not, he will most definitely and most assuredly find them.

Jordan- the get-it-done and get-it-done-right person. The accomplisher. He is also the cool, suave, and self-confident. If there is a task to be accomplished, count on Jordan to make it happen and you better make it happen right because there is no slack and no imperfections. He was always the one who kept everyone laughing. He and Dallace together with their impersonations had us rolling on more nights than we could count. The artist. He creates art through drawings and paintings. And just like all real artists, his mind works in abstract waves.

Margaret- quick-witted and highly perceptive. Nothing gets by this sister. She has the gift of discernment. I believe she can read people's aura. She is our practical sibling- the one who's going to tell you exactly how it is but in the most loving way possible without being cheesy. She is the youngest daughter but her maturity is so above mine, I wonder if maybe Heavenly Father got our order mixed up. When life starts getting mundane, boring and routing, leave it to SUZEE to mix it up and come up with new things to try and do. And my sister would be the one to volunteer as tribute in the Hunger Games...yup I referenced Suzanne Collins' book.

Freddy- the sweet, kind-hearted peacemaker. Slow to anger. Quick to forgive and just sweeeeet. Always has a kind word and makes everyone feel good about themselves. Such a humble kid. Truly a good and pure person. We are blessed to have him in our family.

And then there is me. I am the mess. I am the first to do things wrong, and the last to get things right. I start experiments, stories, projects and never really finish them. The only thing I get done is reading long series or lengthy novels. I'm the spacey one--you know the absent-minded sister who walks into walls, and falls down stairs. I'm not sure what role I play unless it's the role of the one who gets everything wrong so the rest of them know what NOT to do. Or the nerdy sibling that makes the rest of them look spectacularly cool and normal and that's okay because I'm growing into my clutzy, nerd role.

Ramble Ramble

So there is a lot of junk on my mind...pretty normal for me, I guess. If the brain could have a notification tone every time a  thought crossed it, my brain would be sounding off all day, every millisecond of the day,  which I'm sure is pretty standard for everyone. So here I am, going to try to sort some of it out on this bloggy blog of mine.

1) I volunteer my time and energy serving the young women (ages 12-18 yrs old) in my church. We are basically mentors and a second support system to parents who are trying to raise strong, confident daughters of God. So pretty soon here, these young gals will be going to a girls' camp. I remember girls' camp when I was that age and how spectacularly awesome and fun it was to go. I never realized the tremendous work it took to plan for such a camping trip for 200+ girls. And not that I'm an adult leader, I am truly grateful for leaders in the past and the work they put into such extracurricular activities.

Camp isn't complete without some s'mores

Now there are usually adult leaders who go to supervise camp certifications....and well, it seems I've volunteered myself to go but only for part of the trip. Camp is usually four glorious days. I'm only going to be able to go a day and a half. Not because I don't want to go the full time; the conflict is Isaac's birthday will be in the middle of that week that the girls go to camp (Spring Break week!! woot woot!). Recently I've been feeling somewhat of a pressure to go the full time....mostly by the Bishopric (I guess that would be the equivalent of the pastor of my congregation; the shepherd called to care and assist this fold of believers). And I expressed the reasons for me not being able to attend the whole thing to one of the members of the Bishopric and his response weighed heavily on me....

"Oh, he won't miss it or you...." he had said when I said I didn't want to miss lil man's birthday. And he totally said this jokingly, but I still felt a little pressure. I went home that night and prayed heavily, wondering if maybe I had my priorities wrong. But in praying, a thought came to my mind: he may not miss it (das Geburtstag---his birthday) or me but this is the time I have with him where he still WANTS/DESIRES to be with his momma.  And that brings us to numero dos....

2) I have mulled over this great possibility in my mind; this possibility that he may one day not want to be around or live with me. As a single parent I am constantly worried and stressed over the welfare of my child. As so many other good mothers, I naturally want the best for him and do my best to provide everything I possibly can to meet his needs. And I wept at the thought of him not necessarily rejecting me but desiring to not want to live with me and live with his dad. So it turned to thoughts of what I could do to decrease the chance of this happening.

And so as I'm thinking on these things, it made me realize how I truly hate the idea of divorce. Not because it should never happen (sometimes it NEEDS to happen) but that the major effects are always on the children. No matter the reason. Not matter the justification for the divorce....the kid will always hurt. So then my focus turned from what to do to make sure he never wants to leave me (ever!! not really...but close) to what to do to make sure he doesn't lose himself in the hurt we created for him no matter who he decides to live with. And so numero tres...

3) Forgiveness...because it hurts more to keep the anger. And if I don't want lil man to hurt, then I need to let go and stop hurting myself. Children have a tendency to sometimes repeat their parents' history. I need to be a better example and really rely on the Lord to heal me, guide me, and protect me if I'm going to teach lil man to rely on Him, too. In the same light, although I can forgive, as a mother, my duty is always to protect my son from harm and that includes harm that others may cause him. There's a difference between forgiving and being a doormat. Let go of the hurt, anger and pain but I will always remain aware of someone trying to take advantage of that "kindness" of myself and my son. I am realistic though about my not being able to protect him from EVERY pain or harm...that is life. It is full of opposition.

Ze New Hair

Ze Inspiration

It's amazing the effects of such a simple thing as a new hair cut. And that's just what I did today. Why? Honestly, those red, burned, singed ends of my hair was eating away at me. Back in July of 2011, I did a lil experiment with red in my hair (btw, I have this crazy, can't-be-explained obsession with red hair.....if you have red hair, I like you irregardless...) and it went so horrible! I think I'm scared of doing red in my hair again and will be content admiring those of you born with this awesome color! But yeah, the experiment consisted of BLEACHING ze hair! And that is a no bueno move! NEVER, ever, ever again. (We learn from our mistakes, no?)

So I've waited months for mah hair to grow out. And it's been doing well enough. But I just had enough! Plus, my co-worker has been encouraging a cut of the ruined ends to promote growing of healthier hair. I have to assume she knows what she is talking about because she has an abundance of healthy, glowing, flowing, radiant hair.

Plus, I have been feeling  bold and edgy. My life has changed so much. I've changed so much. A new do was called for. Eventually I'll grow out my natural hair. But right now, I zink I vill have some FUN! Cleopatra? Why not! My hair is straight as a board anyway. Natalie at Regis, you are my favorite hair stylist! You captured exactly what I pictured. And yes! I think I will go dancing!

So just call me CleoBrina, thank you. LOL!!

My Lil Man

2nd Birthday Party

3rd Birthday Party

He is growing up fast. My lil miracle baby boy. It's kind of a weird feeling watching a tiny human grow up. He's learned so much. He's talking more, enunciating better. He runs, jumps, and is full of all kinds of energy. He has a strong desire to read and can spell and recognize a few words. He knows very simple math (addition mostly), and he loves shapes. He's always asking, "Mom, what shape?" He knows the pentagon, octagon, and knows cylinder and sphere and things I don't think I knew when I was three...well, I don't remember what I knew at three, but I'm sure I didn't know those shapes. He is a testy lil punk at times. When I tell him not to touch something, for his own safety, I see him approach the forbidden object with that "testy" look. The one where he's looking at me out of the corners of his eyes, watching my reaction and seeing if I will actually walk over and set him straight. And he pushes it to the limit. Like that one time in the summer when he unbuckled his seat belt in the middle of a car ride....yes, I spanked him. First time I ever spanked him, and he has NEVER unbuckled his seat belt.

Oh and apparently he's "special needs"....Yup, he's my special lil man...lol!!

Few days old 03/17/2008 <3

1st Birthday 03/15/2009

2 Years old!!

3 Years old

Almost 4 years old!!!!

Then there is the MUSIC

How I love music. It is tranquil. It is moving. It is an expression of the range of human emotion. It evokes, invokes. It brings me to tears. It inspires and uplifts. I love all sorts of music but I'm especially moved by the ones written, composed, and wrought by pure, raw, intense, and passionate emotion. And I admire anyone who creates, replicates, and writes music from their heart. People who have the capability and capacity to compose works of art from the depths of their soul give me the chills. And I love being in the presence of such talented, creative beings. I have met drummers, guitarists, violinists, singers, cellists, pianists, saxophonists, and dancers that have blown me away with their range of motion and use of their instrument/voice/body. Such art is captivating and enchanting. There are people who play music and then there are those who live it, breathe it. And I am such a wannabe. I want to be just like Karen Briggs, playing that violin with such poise, intensity, and just RAWNESS where you hear, feel, taste, and touch the music in that 4-dimensional way. It comes ALIVE. 

Apparently, there is a lot of hidden talent at my work place. And I was talking to an associate after discovering what a crazy-awesome guitarist he is and he made a suggestion that, simple as it was, was like a smack on my forehead. “Have you ever tried it?” And that was a question posed to my statement about my not being able to play music by ear. He went on to explain how when he plays the guitar, he plays purely on emotion (which is exactly the kind of music I love). I walked away from that conversation totally absorbed in that one question posed at my doubt in my own creative capabilities. I read notes…and at a beginners level at that. I have never truly tried playing by ear. I’ve always limited my abilities to my capacity to sight read. And sight reading is super, duper hard for me. Yeah, I’m so hard on myself. 

Karen Briggs!! <3

But now I’m thinking, if I really stuck at it…if I really learned everything there is to know about my instrument, I just might be able to master all it’s tones enough to hear a melody and know where every note of that melody is on my piano or violin. When you know the emotion, the movements, the flow in a particular song, it could be just that easy to replicate that on the instrument if you’re just as familiar with your instrument.  Now I’m really motivated to purchase my own full size keyboard with the weighted keys and really dive into this idea. Really test and challenge myself. Besides, it’s a great possibility that hiding underneath my musical insecurities is a Christina Perri or dare I say…..Yanni? My brothers and sisters are self taught musicians…I can’t have fallen that far from the tree now, can I? Hehe. 

Anywho!! Music is da bomb, yo!! Get some in your life! 

Hoping to have her in my home one day...

P.S. If I did beginners piano lessons via my blog...would anyone be interested to subscribe and follow regularly??

Lil man at the park...

I took lil man to the park today and enjoyed watching him run his lil butt all over the playground. I watched as an older boy (6-ish) approached him and attempted to play a game of tag. Lil man was not getting it. He just wanted to run. I don’t think he was getting the concept of chasing someone and tagging them and running from the person who is “it.”  I was relieved to watch him play so well with others and just sat on the bench watching with a sort of peaceful pleasure and calm.  UNTIL….

The older boy’s mom leans over and says…”I just want to say I admire your strength and capability to handle a son with special needs…” I was so incredibly shocked and utterly taken by surprise that my immediate response was to laugh (guffaw is more like it) in her face. I have never felt such a mix of emotions as I calmly (though my heart was racing a million miles) explained, “Ma’am my son is three and has no more special needs than your son…” Her face turned beet red. And as is in my nature, when someone is embarrassed and in an uncomfortable situation, despite the fact that I’m totally offended, I offer these words…”Yeah, his dad is a giant so he’s tall for his age…I get it all the time…” Not really but for the sake of saving face. Plus, I didn’t want to sit there and hear her spit out some lame excuses, trying to save her own face. Which she did anyway…

I turn back to watching lil man play and only hear a few of her words. I’ve done what I could but at this point, I’d rather she just shut up and leave me alone. Not because I’m being mean (maybe a little bit) but when things like this happen, I tend to want to observe the situation quietly, by myself. I’m watching lil man play and wondering what could  have made this woman think he was retarded. He runs normal. Walks normal. There is the fact that he doesn’t talk much and he does randomly burst out with screaming and usually these are words he makes up. But NOTHING about him seems slow. Not that being a special needs kid is horrible…it just makes me wonder. Was it because he didn’t know how to play tag? I wondered if he was talking to Moodle, his imaginary friend. As I’m meditating deeply on this, I come out of my thoughts and notice all the mothers have moved away from me…I’m totally alone on my bench. Weird.

Hint: Red coat....

So then I start examining all the mothers. I see a lot of helicopter moms. Especially the ones with the little, itty-bitty in-between-infant-and-toddler-stages. I watch the mothers who will kiss every single boo-boo. The mothers who insist on sliding down the slide the right way never allowing the awesome pleasure of climbing up the slide the “wrong” way. Most of the mothers are on the playground, following their kid or kids every single step of the way. And there I am, on the bench, kicking my feet and drinking my bottle of water. My hawk eyes (with my corrective lenses in) are on lil man the whole time but I’m one to let him roam, yell, skip, run, and jump to his heart’s desire without my interruption. But when he invites me to the swings, I’m in. And I coach him on how to properly kick his feet up and down and lean just so to get the right momentum to maximize height and speed at which to travel through the air, through space and time. And then he invites me to kick his green soccer ball around and we do so for six exhilarating minutes until he falls on his knees trying to kick the ball. He gives a whimper and I hold up my finger like Julia Andrews does as Fraulein Maria in The Sound Of Music when Gretel drops the tomato. Doesn’t have quite the same effect. He’s actually squeezing out some tears so I get on my knees next to him, slap my hands together and rub them furiously to produce some heat like Mr. Miyagi in Karate Kid, and place my smoking hands on his knees. Works like a charm. He giggles appreciatively and he is up and running around again. But he doesn’t want to play with me anymore…back to the older kid. I guess it was my fault he got hurt. =( LOL.

I felt he deserved something he LOVES...pancakes
for my "special" one...lol

But yes…that is my day at the park with lil man. I guess he is tall for his age and people just assume that he is a slow 6 year old or something. I don’t know. But he’s three and is already trying to read and do math so nope, I k now he isn’t. And I shouldn’t get offended but apparently I’m still a little miffed over it to be blogging about it, eh? Anywho…

PEACE AND BLESSINGS. PEACE AND BLESSING YA’LL!!

The Hike That Never Was....

I was really looking forward to a five mile hike this weekend. I had visions of rough, tumultuous, inclining terrain being conquered by myself and the young women (ages 12-18 yrs) in our church. I even imagined fending off lions, and tigers, and bears! Oh my!! There was even a hazy vision of an attempt to RUN or at least slowly jog the whole five miles with my pepper spray and knife close at hand just in case.  I even skipped my Friday lunch workout because I figured the five mile hike/jog would count sufficiently for both days. And is it sad that this hike was the highlight of my weekend?

SIDENOTE: The city of Windcrest (*rolls eyes*) will be having a triathlon shortly here in the spring…I am considering doing this event. It would consist of a 200 meter swim, 10 mile bike ride, and 2 mile run. I MUST do it. Challenge me someone out there!!! Okay…back to the weekend…

Well we all (leaders and young women) meet at the camp director’s house (because this hike is intended to prep us for a week of camping galore during Spring Break) to prepare for Saturday’s hiking adventure. Of course, I’m late but it’s because I went for a short jog around my neighborhood, dilly-daddled on the phone with one of my BEST FRIENDS (shout out NANA!!) because my other friend couldn’t talk ( shout out to KIMPOSSIBLE even though she preferred to nap :P)!!! It was a fun night. We cut patterns for pajama bottoms which those are going to be WILD and AWESOME because we are using two different materials per leg. ZANEY!

Then someone turned the music on and folks, this old hagilicious hunk of gorgeous can still boogy with the young-uns. AND apparently, I can still bend this back for a nice round or two of limbo, limbo, limbo! Chips and dips were passed around. THEN there were root beer floats! And I’m thinking it’s cool. It’s cool. We got the hike to burn all this excess sugar off! So the night winds down and a movie is popped into the DVD player. And slowly the girls fade like dying flies. One after the other. I and another leader opted to finish the rest of the ice cream, loaded with some M&M’s, of course. We are courteous like that…wouldn’t want to leave it out to melt like that and there was no room in the freezer (ssshhh Lisa, they don’t know the truth ).

So we finally decide to join the snoring brood of teen girls. And honestly it was a tough night for me to sleep. Had nothing to do with the loud thundering and flashy lightning. Okay, maybe a lil bit. It was LOUD!! But when I finally do decide to go to sleep, my slumber is disturbed. I am sleeping on the floor…because it’s good for my back. I actually sacrificed the couch for the pregnant lady…because I’m so noble like that. In doing so, I had to fight for the last corner with the gigantic blonde dog that resides at that home. So she kept me up with her paws in my sides. But she eventually left to rest with her master. Thank you, blonde dog. But shortly after that….just when I was on the brink of crossing over to dreamland, the young woman that was sleeping on the huge loveseat right next to my place of rest, toppled onto me…not good for my back. She did this twice; both times jolting me out of a dreamy reverie. I suppose sleep was just not meant for me. At around 7:00 am, a loud knocking on the door aroused me although I was hardly asleep…more like resting my eyelids briefly. And then the young woman who couldn’t decide if she wanted the loveseat or the floor I slept on, karate chopped me in the bladder (yeah, somehow her hand just flopped down into my bladder while she is sleeping)…so it ended my vain attempts to rest. I had to get up and use the potty at that point. Game over.

I looked like this in the AM due to certain peeps dropping onto me
in the middle of the night and stuff....no hard feelings...lol

So then it was breakfast! All the girls slowly began to come out of their hibernation with stretching, groaning, moaning but little protest, surprisingly. And it is announced, there will be no hike due to the excessive amount of rain and muddy, murky, cloudy conditions of the day. BOOOOOOOOO! How rotten. How very, utterly rotten! I had a root beer float for pete’s sake! And M&M’s!! Well breakfast was fantabulous made by the awesome young women.They made MIGAS is how I believe it's spelled. Pajama bottoms were half way done, the skit was brainstormed and rough drafted. AND THEN we had s’mores! Chocolatey, marshmallowy-gooey goodness with the honey crunch of graham crackers.

So let me just say, these group of girls I spent a night and half a day with are the best bunch of gals I know thus far. They are all so different. And in my day, you wouldn’t think to put any of these girls in a group together. But there they were, helping each other with the pajama pants, singing and dancing together, laughing and joking, and it was just very cozy. So although the hike not happening wrought such dismay in me (I don’t think the girls minded at all lol), I was just so superbly impressed with my girls. Yes, I call them my girls. They come from all walks of life…lives that aren’t always peachy and nice and bubbly happy. Lives that are difficult and sometimes downright unfair. But they all exuded such warmth and compassion for each other. And they spoke kindly and so respectfully of each…well except for the occasional joke and tease here and there. It leaves me thinking and believing that we parents, leaders, and mentors are influencing them a little bit somehow. And it leaves me assured that God (as said in a talk last week) has a different curriculum in life for each of us. But when we endure and have the right attitude, we can learn to overcome, love ourselves, and love those around us in the truest, purest way.

MY GIRLS <3

So the point of it all was to recant a great weekend even though it didn’t turn out exactly as planned and also to point out that I probably gained 5 pounds. Those s’mores and root beer floats!! Anywho, let’s have a grand week of losing those five pounds, shall we?

And finally PEACE AND BLESSINGS!! PEACE AND BLESSING YA’LL HEAR NOW! =)