Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Posts tagged ‘community’

Fun Teaching Letters To A Toddler

Quite easy (sort of).

Fan out the lettered tiles in front of your 2 year old.

Point out letter “A ” and repeat frantically “A A A A…”

Encourage 2-year-old to find the same letter while dangling a blue ice pop over his head.

Give lots of praise when child inadvertently gets letter correct.

Show lots of patience when 2-year-old throws tiles into the air,

puts tiles into nose and down his shirt.

Continue until child’s nap time or until you reconsider sending child to pre-pre-pre-K.

Laugh.

Have fun.

Be ready for alternate creative play preferably including feet.

By the way, I’m the Grandmom.

The mom in the picture is my daughter now in nursing school.

She turned out alright even though the raising of her was

not so much a loving mom and child but more like a hostage situation.

This is gmom.

Living the dream.

Peace out.

Image

Photo: Summer In Hooville

 

Hoo the “Merchant of Good Cheer”.

This is gmom,

peace out.

Let Go And Let God

Demolition of a small hut in our backyard.

It was a hard job.

Husband told me to leave it be.

But it was a fair Sunday,  and baby Hoo was sleeping.

So I took up a hammer.

Being unfamiliar with demolition I circled the hut a few times just swinging the hammer and thinking ,

“How do I do this?  How do I do anything?  I just do it.

Piece by piece.  Board by board.

Husband came home surprised to see the hut gone.

“You did that ? You couldn’t take down the hut!”

I could and I did!

It’s like my big sis taught me years ago when we got a rejection letter from a private school for one of my boys. She said,”What are you crying about, grow up, no does not mean no.”

Really?

She was right. I fought for an acceptance for my son and he went to that school.

Don’t tell me what I can’t do.

Oh but the  seismic challenges of the last few months.

A son losing his way.

A daughter walking into a relationship that was so very wrong.

The evil pain creeping from my back to my leg and settling in my foot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let go and let God.

That I have learned, and this I know.

Challenges?

Get out of my f**king way.

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Son.  My beating heart.  Keep your head up.

Love and service, baby. Keep saying it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pretty little girl will one day see that love knows no bounds. Only time and distance lets children scope the scene of their sad day when parent wrenched their sorry behind away from trouble.

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My personal enemy? The creeping fire.  Pain.

I will walk through it to drop to my knees so baby boy Hoo can reach me,  and I him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a fair Sunday.

The hut needed demolition.

I took up the hammer and brought the hut down.

Just let me pull nails, and crack wood.

Let me struggle under the weight of heavy wood.

This is gmom,

peace out.

Animals, They’re All Animals!

My favorite is the beat-box rodent.

What’s yours?

This is gmom,

peace out.

Where Is My Happy Place? Can I Borrow Yours?

Have you ever been told to go to your happy place?

Go in your mind to the one place on earth that you most want to be,

A beautiful beach.

A mountain meadow.

A rolling hillside in Ireland.

A holy place you once visited and never forgot.

So many times I’ve coaxed women, who in the clutches of labor pain to envision their happy place and go there.

I’ve spent hours whispering to them words of encouragement, that they can endure, that they can breathe through the most intense pain, and most often they do. I leave them holding their perfect beautiful infant at the breast.

In the last few weeks, so many people have told me to go to my happy place.

I’ve searched for it. I’ve even tried physically to go there.

What a crock.

I’ve gone through 6 labors unmedicated.

I’ve had my spinal nerves ablated.

I’ve done it before, I’ve found the strength to go …somewhere.

But now…I’m lost.

My happy place must have gone with the recession.

I can’t feel my strength, my breath.

How can I find my happy place if I can’t find myself.

Where did  I go ?

Ah the joys of nothingness………..

Damn dog.

Down Cujo.

Down!

We Are Family Like That

When my brother’s fatal prognosis was told to our family. We were grouped together surrounding his wife. Hands all around her. On shoulders. On knees. Supporting and holding.

We are family like that. We hold each other up.

We listened intently to everything the doctor was saying not noticing my mother walking away. My elder sister noticed first.

Where is Mom?

We went to the hospital hallway and saw my mother running down the hospital hallway.  For myself, I had a moment of wanting to let her go. She had the right idea. Run Mom Run. But there was no where to run to. We went after her. Like the Keystone cops. We caught her, crying and struggling, out of control. We surrounded her. Someone brought a chair.

It’s okay mom, it’s okay,it’s going to be okay…

We put hands all around her. Held her. Supported her.  All of us, Including my sister in law.

We are family like that.

Now I understand why she ran.

But there really is no running from life.

These 5 revitalizing days alone at the beach have reminded me, that I am not alone in my struggles.  I have hands all around me. Holding me. Supporting me.

We are family like that.

Things You Should Try At Least Once (or not)

This is actually two topics in one. I have run away from home. The pressure cooker of some home events drove me to take the sage actions of a friend and skedaddle to higher ground for a breather.

So I write to you from the beachfront. I am watching the waves rolling inexorably into the shore. I am eating bagels and cream cheese with lox, the TV is turned on a rerun of Project Runway, I have a six-pack of beer cooling on ice.

It’s all wrong, but exactly what I need. A  short break from a difficult reality. Hubby didn’t exactly give me his blessing, but I did notice he put the ‘easy-pass’ in my car’ and called to check up on me a few times. All good. This is working for me.

So Rose and I, you know Rose, my 21-year-old? Works full-time and goes to college full-time? My own little overachiever. She and I were discussing things you should try at least once in your life.

We settled on:

Sky diving

Scuba diving

Rock climbing

Bungee jumping

Singing in front of a crowd

Go surfing in Malibu

Visit India

Climb an active volcano

Participate in Burning Man

Now of course we then went on to name a bunch of things we thought we wouldn’t try.

So here is that list too. Be sure to add yours in.

We wouldn’t try cocaine or heroin. One time may be one time too many.

We wouldn’t…

Get a big ‘name tattoo’  on our face.

Run a marathon. (ewwwww)

Join a ‘hold your breath’  under water contest.

Run naked through church.

Read War And Peace. Uh no.

See the Taj Mahal. I seen it in Las Vegas it ain’t all that!

Backpack through the rainforest. No No No.

Learn an indigenous language. I’ll stick to pig-Latin.

Listen to Enya for 5 hours straight. Just shoot me instead.

Give someone directions, even though you have no idea where they are going.

Get drunk and ruin someones special day.

Photocopy your butt. Why do people do that???

Join a self-help group. I actually did that once with my sister and they kicked us out for laughing.

Last but not least, marry someone you met in an online dating site who you have only met one time. Don’t ask! I know someone who did this. What a disaster.

So there you go kids.

What are your ideas. Hmmm?

This is gmom,

at the beach,

watching the waves and wondering,

why do I live in the city????

Peace and I am outa here!

Remembering Jeff: Like A Prayer

This is how I remember it.

This is how it was.

——————————————————–

It’s called a secondary cancer.

A migratory zone.

Where the cells go to garden.

The brain.

We  sat in the waiting room praying for him.  Losing hope as the hours passed,

as the 7 hour surgery turned into 22.

Finally, the surgeon came out and told us what we already knew.

It was not good.

But for now he was in recovery.

My sisters and I stayed at the hospital and waited for a chance to visit him, for the chance to see that he yet existed and was still amongst us.

At some point in the night the nurses removed the breathing tube.

He spoke in a broken record, PeeWee Herman voice not his own.. “tumor tumor tumor”.

“Tumor’s all gone, honey, tumor is gone.”

I didn’t know if he heard or understood me as he continued his senseless mutterings.

Suddenly, he turned towards me and with  eyes unfocused and snapping left-right, left-right said

“Sing sing sing sing”.

So I sang,

to my brother.

““““““““““““““““““““`

Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone.
I hear you call my name and it feels like
Home.

When you call my name, it’s like a little
Prayer. I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you
there. In the midnight hour, I can feel your
Power. Just like a prayer, you know I’ll take you there

 

The hard part wasn’t his leaving.

The hard part was being left.

He stayed long enough to say goodbye.

This is gmom,

peace out.

T’ank You, T’ank You.

(On the anniversary of my brother’s passing I am grateful for the small miracles of today. Hey Jeff, miss you bud, you would have loved this story, you would have loved Hoo)

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Baby boy Hoo was mad rushed into the house by his momma Eggs on Friday. “Mom! The daycare called me, he is burning up with fever!!!” My daughter was panicked, struggling to hold a hysterical Hoo.

Undress him, let’s check his temperature.

I watched the mercury rise in the thermometer tube as Eggs pinned Hoo across her lap.

103….103.6……104….104.2……105….

Okay let’s get him into the bath, get the tylenol and call his doctor.

I poured cool water over his shaking body. It was controlled chaos.

We wrapped him in a sheet and rushed him to the pediatrician who saw him immediately.

Hoo sat on Eggs lap as the doctor examined him. He cried continuously.

The doctor did a strep test with the looong q-tips swirled down his throat.

Poor Hoo, he gagged hard, when he could draw breath he cried out “T’ank you, t’ank you.”

That is a Hooism for “thank you”. The doctor was charmed by our little darling. The we waited until a nurse came in to draw

blood. Hoo cried and cried and when she finished he cried “T’ank you, t’ank you.” She also was

touched by this tiny tot. She said that was the first time a 23 month old thanked her for poking them.

The doctor came back in and listened to Hoo’s chest again and pronounced him to have

pneumonia. Of course Hoo turns red-eyed and says, “T’ank you, t’ank you.”

Eggs and I shared a secret smile over Hoo’s head.

You see dear reader, whenever Hoo wants someone to leave he says “Thank you.”

Today Sunday he is better. Bouncing around as recovering children do.

Watching Sesame Street and eating jelly toast.

T’ank you God, really T’ank you!

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