Shifty Paradigms

I've Moved

Mon, 23 Jul 07 23:14:00 UT

You can find me at My other blog.

Done

Mon, 18 Jun 07 10:06:00 UT

I'm done again. At least for a while.

The things I have to write about can not be posted in public.

A comment I made somewhere to provoke thought has been misinterpreted so that the person thinks I accused them of racist ideas...I did not/would not....those who know what my family looks like understand why.

The internet "community" is too false. We can post only what we have edited about ourselves, presenting a sanitized version. Friends are those who know the good, bad and ugly and still choose to hang in there. I am lonely for those type of friends, but the blogsphere is not the place to find them.

So, I am done for a while.

See you when all I need to do is write.

Consider yourself warned

Fri, 15 Jun 07 08:29:00 UT

Miss Teen completed the class portion of Driver's Ed yesterday. She made a 100 on the test.

Now comes the driving practice.

She'll be getting her permit the third week in July.

Spencer

Tue, 12 Jun 07 23:22:00 UT

Last night Spencer died.

He is the child of one of the teachers at my son's present and daughter's former school. His mother teaches there and has for about 15 years. His sister was in my daughter's class for 9 years.

Spencer was an energetic and high maintenance youngster. I remember looks exchanged between adults when as a kindergarten student he would be in the completely right place at not quite the completely right time. My own son reminds me of the young Spencer from time to time. Orange is the favorite color of both of them.

The weekend of Katrina Spencer got ill and was diagnosed with leukemia. The next week the family was at St. Jude's.

It has been a long journey through this illness for this family and for the family of folks at our school. The kids in his class have walked in cancer walks, shaved their heads, worn orange rubber Spencer bracelets, painted their faces with orange paint during field day, taken a 3 hour detour on their seventh grade trip to North Carolina so that they could visit him at St. Jude's and most of all the community has prayed. And prayed. And prayed.

I am relieved that his suffering is over. I am relieved that he died after school was out for the summer so that the kids can grieve privately instead of competitively. I pray that the kids don't give up on praying just because once again, Spencer is in the completely right place at not quite the completely right time.

What's going on..

Fri, 8 Jun 07 19:48:00 UT

Son is playing on the living room floor with Leggo pirates, wooden blocks and an old Styrofoam ice chest that immunizations were delivered in. Son is 10, almost 11 and yet he still plays with toys. Come to think of it, I have seen Miss Teen play with toys recently. I love that my kids still have some innocence.

Miss Teen is in her room working on assignments for the correspondence courses she is taking this summer. Because of her unique high school arrangement, she doesn't have time in her regular schedule for electives, Health or P.E. Yup, you read that right, she is taking P.E. via correspondence. More specifically, she is taking bowling. The course description said that the student must have "access to a bowling alley and a camera". My sister thinks that we are going to have to take pictures of her bowling while holding up the newspaper for the day.

Husband is sleeping on the couch. That man can and does fall asleep doing almost anything. I learned this when we were dating. After a few evenings of watching a video by myself, I started bringing my books on dates. (I was still in med school at the time) He asked me why I was bringing them to which I replied, "When you fall asleep, I will turn off the TV and study. I'll wake you up when I am ready to go home." At least he hardly snores any more since losing 25 pounds on Weight Watchers.

I am reading an interesting book I heard about on NPR, "Rethinking Thin". It is quite fascinating to learn the history of the diet movements and industries. I am hoping that at some point the author will offer some real hope for a solution to not being thin....or being fat....or what is really fat.

It is officially summer here. The temps are in the high 80's, low 90's. I love it. I hate cold. I don't mind working up a good sweat when I rollerblade or work in the yard. We've even started to have some of the predictable afternoon thunderstorms. They make the most beautiful clouds.

My birthday is Sunday. This afternoon I had a few moments of pure unadulterated fear of dying. When did birthdays stop being fun?

Thar she blows

Tue, 5 Jun 07 11:11:00 UT

My family has returned home from their trip to rollercoaster world in Florida. They had fun, seem rested and are glad to be home. I managed to accomplish exactly 3/4 of one of the projects on my to do list, but that is better than nothing.

And now, the summer hectic whirlwind begins. Son is in horse camp for two weeks and has tutoring 3 days this week. Miss Teen is plowing through the Eight novels she has to read this summer, studying for driver's ed and beginning to look for a job. Soon, son will be in Creative Arts camp in New Orleans for 5 weeks and we will be back to commuting. My work schedule has changed and is in flux as my substitute physician takes vacation, works in other offices and gets ready to take her kids off to college and boarding school in the fall.

Hurricane Season has officially begun and is the Big Talk on all of the local news channels. I don't even watch that stuff because it gives me a stomach ache. I have a theory that they talk, talk, talk about it so that people will watch the news every night in fearful anticipation of the weather report. My one nod to the opening of Hurricane Season has been to arrange for the latest pine that died to be removed this week as it is verrrryyyyy close to the house.

There have been lots of articles in the paper about preparing for Hurricane season including what to pack in your evacuation box, what papers to keep with you, how to travel with pets and kids, and reviews of the various evacuation routes. People are suprprised, but I still don't think we would evacuate for a storm. Maybe for a category 5, but then again maybe not. I'll worry about that tomorrow.

I do have some things that I would change about what I would do, even staying home. I would never again send my kids out of town without me. I will buy a huge dog carrier to crate the dog so that he can be kept safer than he was last time. I will freeze more containers of fresh water. I will get more cash to keep on hand for the weeks that there is no phone service and therefore no ability to use credit cards. I will still refuse to ride out the storm at the hospital. Call me anything you want, but one of the doctors who stayed at a hospital in New Orleans has been charged with murder (unfairly in my opinion)......I am not taking that chance.

So, summer is here. Let's hope the only hurricanes in our life are our crazy schedules.

As my ipod syncs

Thu, 31 May 07 20:15:00 UT

As my sister described in her latest post, I am enjoying a week of Quiet. House. (I am not however a lucky bitch, but instead a lucky assertive woman. So, nyah.)

So while my ipod resyncs after freezing itself earlier today, I am going to take some of my quiet time to describe what a lucky assertive woman does when her family is away and it is her day off from work.

*Sleep.
*Read.
*Feed the cats and dog.
*Put on tall rubber boots and pull unwanted plants out of the swamp.
*Cut wayward bamboo.
*Set bamboo next to the little garage to "cure" so that it can later be used for ivy training.
*Trim other plants from garden paths.
*Cut the tops off of the native sunflower plants to that they will branch into two or three flowers.
*Go to the New Orleans Museum of Art to see "Femme, Femme, Femme" (for any readers in this area, go see this. It is great, cheap, Sunday is the last day and the museum is going to be open from midnight to midnight on Sunday.)
*Go buy a bathing suit. (yuck, yuck and double yuck. I hate this activity more than anything else in the world and yes even more than the dentist and the gyn)
*Go to the bookstore
*Notice that it is after 7pm. Who cares, I don't have to worry about dinner for the family.
*Fix ipod

You get the idea. I haven't had this much freedom to do whatever I want since I got married. (that would be 20 years ago)

BUT,....and it is a big but (not butt, that was trying on bathing suits)......today my cell rang and played Fur Elise, the tune that is assigned to my husband and kids, and my heart jumped.

Quiet. House. is good. Crazy family house is better.

Rural America

Tue, 29 May 07 21:26:00 UT

Or at least rural Louisiana.

Today I had to go up the road a piece to take son's saddle to get some repairs while son is on vacation. Someone gave me the name of a gentleman up in Bush (the name of the town) who repairs horse tack. So, up the road I went. Bush is about 20-30 miles up the road toward the Northwest of where I live. Twenty miles into rural America; the land of fences made of old wagon wheels, roadside vegetable stands, rolling hills, tall stands of pines, and schools with names like "Fifth Ward Elementary" that have large water collection cisterns in the schoolyard.

I found Mr. Hanson's home 100 yards from the intersection of highways 40 and 41 at the end of the first left hand gravel driveway just over the old railroad bed, just like he said I would. What a delightful gentleman he was. He worked for the electric co-op until 2000. Two days after Katrina they came knocking on his door for help getting the lines back up. (He still isn't really sure how they got down the driveway with all the trees that were down.) Three visits later and after some negotiating on his price, this gentleman came out of retirement to help those "young guys" get the power lines restrung. His story of riding out Katrina, sitting on his couch with his wife, watching the roof of his barn fly by and saying to his wife, "you know, we may have made the wrong decision to stay", just tickled my funny bone.

And then there were the sewing machines. One was a cast iron black antique machine that had a story of its own. The machine was made in 1909, still runs and he uses it now to sew nylon. He bought the machine from "some nuns" at a convent in New Orleans many years ago. The nuns used the machines to sew leather sandals. There was also a hand cranked machine that really looked like just half of a sewing machine. That one is used to sew the leather on saddles and other tack. When he bought it he thought it looked like a toy, but he showed me work that machine has done and it is no toy.

We talked about what my town used to be like. (My family live here from 1963-1968 and then moved back in 1976) We talked about the pediatrician who built our office and has been gone from town since the early 80's. We talked about riding out Betsy and he told me about Camille. His eyes lit up when I told him that I am going to bring my son with me when I pick up the saddle. Son has asked me to teach him to sew this summer and I think that seeing what this gentleman does, his love of sewing and how he has combined it with his love of horses will thrill my son. His barn smells of Murphy's soap, leather, and horse. Across the street from his driveway is the BVFD, Bush Volunteer Fire Department. This is the other half of the joy of living where I do, midway between rural life and New Orleans.

As I drove up there and then again on the way back, I could feel my body relaxing. The miles and miles of pine forest and the ozone air have been missing from my world in the past months. I love New Orleans, but I love the pine forests and rural Louisiana just as much. Today I got to remember that other side of life.

Rollercoasters

Mon, 28 May 07 11:52:00 UT

I hate riding rollercoasters.

That is part of the reason I am not on vacation at Universal Studios/Busch Gardens with the rest of my family.

I hate emotional rollercoasters.

Miss Teen totally nailed her featured role in the voice recital. She did not nail her math exam and continued to "forget" to make up work missed in other classes. Her report card, while acceptable and good, is not the Great that it could so easily have been and I.am.pissed. And I am pissed at myself for being pissed at her. The rollercoaster of raising this creative, intelligent, lovely, free spirit is making me cry. What was She thinking when She gave me, the obsessive compulsive overachiever, a Free Spirit child?

I hate financial rollercoasters.

Let's just say that trying to stick to a budget in the post-Katrina economic world is a challenge. And lets not talk about the price of gasoline.

I hate spiritual rollercoasters.

My absolute favorite Priest ever celebrated her last Sunday at our church yesterday. She is going to be the Canon to the Ordinary in the diocese of Tennnessee and that is wonderful for her. But I will miss her completely peaceful presence. On the other hand, I come from a generation of women in which I was not allowed to be an acolyte just because I am female. Go Mother Pam!

Recital season

Wed, 23 May 07 21:58:00 UT

Last night was piano recital night and son played well. It is so jarring to see this bundle of total basketball, football, horse loving BOY sit at the piano and play with wonderful musicality. This is the year that he went from banging the piano, to playing music. He loved the change.

I make my children take piano, and Miss Teen also takes voice. She has had 9 years of lessons and Son is in his third year. (He would take voice too, but the vocal cord nodules can't handle it.) They whine, complain, argue and generally detest lessons and most practice. They do however like being "able" to play. I believe that everyone should be taught to read music and that piano is just as important as math. Sometimes the kids ask me how long they have to take lessons and I respond, "Until you are paying rent." Who knows how this insistence of mine will turn out. I figure there are two possibilities: 1. They will enjoy playing when they are grown and will thank me for pushing them to learn or 2. They will never touch a piano again when they are grown, but will appreciate the work that goes into the playing of others. After asking many, many adults I can't find a predictor of which way it will turn out, so I insist that they learn. (Miss Teen did ask me one day how much I would charge her for rent.)

This week Miss Teen has been especially contrary. I thought it was exams, I thought it was her being "put out" about having to perform at a recital this week. It was exams, but it was also nerves.

Miss Teen was a featured vocalist in the vocal recital tonight. Another high schooler, Miss Teen and the teacher sang a program of about 20 pieces of varying genres. There were show tunes, arias, pieces in Italian and Russian, and Art Songs. Those three were phenomenal!!! And Miss Teen, well she made me cry. When she started with Shenandoah I teared up. When she sang "On My Own" from Les Mis, I cried and worried that she had used herself up already and it was only her second piece. All of her creative soul showed itself tonight and it was a fine treat. It is a rare thing to see my teen willing to put herself so totally into a public musical creative effort.

Tonight made all those music battles worthwhile.

bad mommy

Wed, 23 May 07 08:39:00 UT

Is it really, really horrible to ask your husband to Please, please leave a day earlier on his trip with the kids?

I mean, wouldn't it be better to break the drive up into two segments than to leave a 4am on Monday?

I really, really need a break.

Signs of Recovery

Fri, 18 May 07 10:31:00 UT

Every Friday the New Orleans paper has a section on the editorial page called Signs of Recovery. "Evidence of recovery can be seen all over the metro New Orleans area. Those signs brighten our mood and show that we are on the mend. We'll be watching for these harbingers of rebirth and taking note of some of them every week."

This week this was included:

"Some hair stylists say their clients are starting to get color treatments more consistently, a sign that people have enough time and energy to focus on their appearance."

It is the little things that make the difference.

Must get up earlier

Thu, 17 May 07 21:50:00 UT

I have yet to take my morning shower. Thank God it is a day off from the office.

This morning I drove son to school to help him deliver end of year teacher presents. We gave our family's traditional watermelons. (just how many coffee cups can a teacher really need?) It was pretty cute to see this 10 year old kid hauling a watermelon all the way to his classroom. I hear that it was just as cute to see him haul a different watermelon to his Last Meeting of the school year with his tutor.

Then I drove back to my office to rearrange some cables in the hopes that it would get back online our lab ordering system. It did.

Then I got my hair de-grayed, highlighted, cut summer short, and touched up the eyebrows. (that last one was a new experience for me....not too sure which is better: ungroomed eyebrows, tweezers or wax.)

Then I picked Miss Teen up from her regular high school, came home, ate lunch and promptly fell asleep sitting up on the couch.

Then I packed Miss Teen back up into the van and then went back to son's school to pick him up from school.

Then we went to the office of his tutor so that I could meet with his learning center coordinator to make summer tutoring plans/goals. Since we were 20 minutes early we studied his spelling and vocabulary words in the car.

Then we met up with husband. He forgot that I didn't have to drive to New Orleans and had come to get son from aftercare only to discover that son was not there. We made lemonade out of the situation by going out to eat as an entire family, something we rarely get to do these days. (less money after Katrina, longer lines at restaurants after Katrina, everyone involved in varying activities)

Now, everyone else is in bed for the night and I think I will finally take a nice long soaking bath.

And tomorrow, my tub may get fixed.... the part is ready, if the plumber can fit us into the schedule.

Counting the days

Wed, 16 May 07 18:51:00 UT

One school out, two to go. Yes! No more driving to New Orleans on my days off....at least until son starts artsy fartsy camp the end of June.

Since my neck has completely frozen up from all of the driving of late, I am thrilled to stop for a break.

Speaking of breaks, husband and the kids are going out of town for 7 whole days in just 11 days. I will have the whole house to myself. Alone. By myself. Did I mention I get to be alone for 7 whole days?

Yesterday I was reading a high brow article in Ladies Home Journal about the insidious damage of being constantly overwhelmed by the day to day chores of living. That is me. The littlest things just seem to send me over the edge these days. Big crises are easy, getting kids out the door every morning is not.

Finally there

Sun, 13 May 07 12:58:00 UT

It is almost 1pm and I am still sitting here in my pj's. I asked for three things for Mother's day; to be able to sleep in (10:15 I woke up), to not have to drive anywhere, and for a massage gift certificate (got two).

My day is complete.

But there have been many mother's days that were so much less than complete. It is one of the great ironies of my life that although my professional life is devoted to the care of children, I was unable to conceive any. For many years we went through the roller coaster of basal body temps, crazy making hormonal therapies, more laproscopes than I can remember, and severe debilitating depression before landing right where we belong with two beautiful children that came to us through adoption. Their stories of arrival in our family are so profound as to leave no doubt that they are the children we were destined to have.

We had our share of sad mother's days. Some of those mother's day Sunday services were excruciatingly painful to sit through. It doesn't seem like a service to cry through, but I certainly have done it more than once. Now, I look for the woman with the pained expression on her face and hope that her journey soon turns the corner.

It doesn't help at all that my own mother and I have a distant and at times hostile relationship. Her issues and mine had a deadly collision many years ago. Although I believe in grace, this will most likely not heal in this life. Honestly, I have given up trying.

As the years go by this holiday, like so many, is colored by memories of people I love who are now gone. My godmothers who have either moved away or on and the ones who have died are in my thoughts today.

But make no mistake, today's mother's day is good.

The sick baby in our family is doing better and has been sent home with his parents. My children made the cliched breakfast in bed and it. was. yummy. The children have now left for activities of their day, secure in knowing that we love each other enough to allow the freedom to be ourselves even on this holiday of potential emotional blackmail. Loads and loads of laundry are being done and I feel a maternal sense of accomplishment over that mundane chore.

This is the mother's day of my dreams.