Nourishing Meme

A few days ago, I was asked to participate in a meme called, Nourishing Meme with what one would think were five simple questions. When you're dealing with a chronic disease, such as Migraine Disease, nothing, and I mean, NOTHING, comes easy. Let me illustrate for you just a few examples before this wonderful meme, things that should be relatively easy in a mother's life:

Let's say for example birth dates. I can remember all but one of my children's birth dates, to ramble off of the top of my head. Child number three, of four, simply comes to a stumbling blank. It's not that I love her any less, it's just a slip of memory. I'm told it's part of the Disease. OK. Not really, OK. Not when you're THE MOM, it's rather embarrassing. Be at the doctor's office when asked the d-o-b and go blank. Having to explain myself is like this - "I have a little brain injury." Then I just smile, and search inside my head for her d-o-b, she gives it for me and we both just giggle it off . Later, I actually could care less what anyone thinks. It's MY memory problem, she knows it's not personal, and that's really all that matters. But it hurts ME that I can't remember my daughter's birth date.

Confusion: This one is a very big dilemma for me. Red light/ green light. I won't drive when I get to this point, as it is dangerous for everyone concerned. I come to a stop light, it turns green, what do I do?? Go, stay?? What do I DO??? Yeah, go home, get out of the car, don't drive.

Confusion: Do you want ginger ale or juice? These are very simple questions, but when you are in a confused state, in the middle of a Migraine, NOTHING, is simple. The choice MUST be made for me, as I CANNOT, repeat, CANNOT make it for myself. I am unable. In the literal form. To those who have never experienced confusion, my but how you are blessed beyond, you should be thankful. Confusion is a terrible, controlling, and terrifying state to be in. It is all-encompassing and consuming. And to be commanded to "MAKE a decision!" That is simply misunderstood. It can be related like this - "Raising a teenager is like trying to nail jello-o to a tree." Get my point? Just as you cannot NAIL jello-o to a tree, you cannot make a decision when you cannot decide. DUH~! The brain just doesn't allow for it. It has simply put, gone haywire at that point.

Ok, so I'm going to get to this Meme. Abigail from Abimigraines.blogspot.com asked me to participate in these five questions. I'm now asking you to participate. It's not as easy as one may think, really.

The Nourishing Meme

1. What is the most nourshing thing you frequently do for yourself?

My most nourishing thing: wonderful smelling body sprays and lotions from Victoria's Secret. My favorites are Amber Romance and Barely Naked. I absolutely will not leave my shower without first applying these immediately afterward. First my body spray, then lotion, then perfume. Layering goes a long way. The scents are light and clean, and unlike other scents, these do not aggravate my Migraines. They also keep my skin moisturized all year long; soft and supple. I have baby-soft skin. My little boy sniffs me, and I love that! He always tells me how much he loves the way I smell. My husband, too appreciates my skin, and always, always tells me both how beautiful I am and how wonderful my skin is. He even tells me how beautiful I am when I'm NOT-I love that about him. When I've been on IV's of high dose steroids, that have wreaked havok on my skin, and I was an absolute mess about it, he still told me everyday, EVERYDAY that I was beautiful. Skin care is essential. Not only your body, but your face. At 40, I look pretty good.

2. For your health, what will you never compromise on?

Medical Care! Without a doubt, I will say my team of care is essential to my well-being. If it wasn't for my current team of doctor's, I don't believe I'd be doing as well as I am right now. I understand, there is currently no cure for MD, and that generally sucks, but, I do feel better as a whole, than I did a year ago. I was in and out of the hospital every 4-6 weeks last year, that was just dreadful. My last hospital visit was in July this year, before that, May. And though I know it may happen again, it's not happening as often, and I'm feeling better.

If I am unhappy with care I receive, I question hard whether or not they have my best interests in mind, are competent, and do they generally care? If they cannot meet these basic guidlines, in my book, they have failed rule 1.

If they are in it for the money, paying off their college tuition, and looking for the American dream; they lost the big picture a long time ago. No need to go any further really.

3. Where do you get most of your health information?

Mostly Magnum, books, and the sites on the left.

4. What single whole food or supplement has turned your health around?

This is by far the hardest question I've had to answer. Since taking in both CoQ10 and Butterbur, I think they would be the answer. I had stopped taking them for a few weeks, and noticed a difference. Rather than chooosing one, I've decided to say both. And add in water, with the B vitamins I drink. It's a drink, like Propel that is offered by Wegmans. It's both flavorful, and non-caloric. So there are three, thus making it very hard. Like I said, decisions are not easy with me.

5. What is your favorite natural therapy?

That would be Grey's Anatomy. KIDDING! Ok, so I'm a couch potato. I like to walk my dog, but that's not always possible. I'm also a little OCD, does that count?? Wow, I guess this is the hardest. HMM natural therapy - pressure here.......wow, Abigail you got me. I love to scrapbook. Right now, my dog is howling because he is outside by himself, and I'm daydreaming of kicking him in the head with Nick's new Marine boots. (Not at all Ceasar-like, I know) just a dream. Hey, that's therapeutic. I'm indecisive at the moment. Now it's your turn.

This really wasn't as easy as it seemed. It took me days to answer. Sorry Abigail. I need to go "address" my beast. OH, look a rock. KIDDING. He has a prong collar, I like to use that. I'm not mean. I just like to pretend. I want hate mail.

So hurry do the meme. Have fun.

Deborah

Life here......Procedes

Well, philip has been overseas now for exactly one week. And we have actually heard from him twice since he's been there. He sounds great! He loves it, his job, his living conditions, be it very strange and unliveable in my eyes of course. But he trained long and hard for this, and he is ready, willing, and able to do what he has been sent to do - fight, serve, defend. What a noble man he is turning out to be. I am beginning to understand the saying, "The few, the proud,...." boy do I understand the grit of it. To hear his explanation of his surroundings, the dirt floor he's sleeping on, walls with broken board and nails; and him laughing at it, telling me he loved it, I don't need to worry about this young man. He is where he needs to be right now. He is where he both wants to be, and where I believe, the Lord wants him to be. He is forever in the safety of the Savior's loving arms. No matter what happens to him, whether he be hurt, there or home, he is a child of God. And this is what he chose to do. He trained hard, very hard for it. The enemy can bruise his flesh, but never his soul.

He called to talk to his Dad again lastnight, and I heard his Dad laughing. What a good sound that was. I know he worries, of course, that is his flesh and blood. He's lost a daughter at the age of 15, so the ripeness is still there. This is like sending the lamb to the slaughter. But this is a well-trained Marine. I just hear the fearless laughter in his voice. And Frank tells me the stories he was telling him on the way back to NC, and it's refreshing for us both. I need to fly his flag.

Marisa is wearing his Marine graduation ring. She adores her big brother. She is my sentimental one. The one with the big heart. She was so thrilled when he called, she just ran to me with the phone. He wanted me to make sure I told all of them "hello" for him. He is such a great brother. I was blessed to have this young man in my home. This kid put ketchup on everything, and I mean EVERYTHING. I can't begin to tell how much of the stuff we'd go thru. That and hot sauce. He even got Chrissy on the stuf. She puts hot sauce on everything. He ate me out of house and home. Never turned his nose up at anything I'd make him. Always asked for seconds. Was never without manners or respect. A true gentleman. His parents raised him right. And he listened.

I sure miss him. It's going to be a very long tour without Philip. This has been a long week. We didn't expect to hear from him, and were fortunate enough to get two calls, thankfully. Now, we wait for the next call or email. Hopefully, we hear nothing on the news from his area of a deathtoll on the military.

Festa Italiana is this weekend, and I've been battling yet another migraine - crap! Here's for trying anyway! Oh, and One Sweet World is playing downtown tonight. All in one place, go figure. Gotta give it a try, right? Maybe. Anyway, hope you have a better weekend.

What Happened to Patriotism?

Monday, September 11, 2006
Kathryn Blair Lee

Holiday Extravaganzas, Kathryn Blair Lee was never one to do things halfway. Consider Thanksgiving. "There had to be at least 25 people and dinner had to last three to five hours," said her husband, E. Philip Lee, noting that there were always a theme and printed menus. "None of this gobble up the turkey and go back and watch football." At 55, a senior vice president with Marsh Inc. who had recently moved to New York, she was a self-taught elder stateswoman in her information technology group. But in a field dominated by youth she stayed a step ahead."Her energy extended to every aspect of her life," said Richard Shewmaker, who had worked with her since 1993. "I remember a breathtaking cluster of California poppies on her floating home in Portland, Ore., the goldfish pond with a rocky stream and waterfall she designed at another. "When I think of Kathryn in her office on the 96th floor of the trade center, I can see the pretty teacup and saucer she had brought with her. Those touches were wherever she was."

© Copyright 1999-2006 Legacy.com All Rights Reserved

This is of course a very small memoriam of a woman I myself had never met, but nontheless feel compelled to memorialize. Not only Kathryn, but the Co-workers and Friends she worked with; the Maintenance staff, Restaurant workers, Brokers, Traders, Lawyers she passed in hallways, elevators, perhaps on the subway. For the Countless Firefighters and Policemen and Women, for the hundreds of Mothers, Fathers, Sisters, Brothers, Sons and Daughters, Uncles, Aunts. For the babies who will never know their lost parent. For the Mommy, who must comfort that child, when she cannot console herself. And for the Dad who questions himself for his own surviver's guilt, as he struggles to answer the many questions from his Motherless children.

For the many many Passengers of those planes, and I just shudder to think of what they lived through in their last moments; for them and their Families. For the Pilots, Crew and the Brave that fought back, to bring a plane down in a field in Pennsylvania, to avoid perhaps a far worse trajedy, than we were already witnessing; with utmost disbelief.

For the Staff of the Pentagon, the Families, Friends and those who live in the aftermath of the devestating hole that was penetrated in one of our most pretentious buildings.

To each and every soul that was lost to the devestation of what is now known as simply "9/11" I offer my condolences and memoriam. Whether it reaches or touches anyone is of no importance. I will never forget, it has changed me. I am not bitter of our country like I see many are. I am bitter at terrorism and ignorance. I hate the fact that people don't even realize they become part of what led up to "9/11" in the first place. Ignorance.

My biggest question is this: what happened to Patriotism? When the towers fell, and the planes were grounded, something in our hearts changed, and we as a nation, changed. I felt the change in my own heart. I felt a need to love my country, to be proud of my country. To wanted

to feel safe again, even after being so vulnerable so soon after these hateful attacks. My heart begged for my country to become whole. Flags flew on cars, and trees, and homes. Churches, businesses, cemetaries. Everywhere you looked, a flag, an American flag flew, bold and bright. On the radio, there were patriotic songs playing, and they would just tug at my heart strings, I would cry at each and every one.

My daughter was in a cheerleading competition, and her entire unit, from the tiniest to the oldest, made up an American flag to the song, "Proud to be an American" at the local competition. People were in complete silence, at first, and then, it was an entire stadium singing the song, in tears. What happened to the Patriotism?

Where has it gone? Over time, little by little, it has turned to blame. Blame it on the former administration. Blame it on the current administration. Blame it on the passengers that didn't fight back. Blame it on lack of airport security. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!! Blame it on terrorism. If anything, learn from it, and stop the blaming. Nothing is won in living in the past. The lives of the lost will certainly not arise from the ashes and dust of those towers long gone. Only their memories are left to the loved ones left behind. To them, we owe a final tribute of hope. Hope for our future. Hope for our children. Hope for our country.

Where IS our Patriotism? It seems to be stuck somewhere between blame and loss, instead of hope and rebirth. And that is where terrorism wins and makes us a target again. Because then we fight within ourselves, our borders, and what made us a nation in the first place. We have become a profiling, racist nation. Scary, and true. Wrong, yet understood.

Where is our Patriotism?

I remember watching, in disbelief the inferno of the first tower, wondering what could have made such a fire. My sister and I had just sent my girls off to school and had GMA on TV. I was standing in front of the TV, watching as the second plane was coming, not really understanding what was happening as I was watching. Then it hit. We just looked at each other, and cried. We were terrified, because we knew something in our country was terribly wrong.

We were holding our babies, then not even a year old, too young to understand; and I thought, I need to get my girls. They need to be with me. We live just a few miles from a major airport and fortunately, The Boys From Syracuse, our own F-16 fighters. We have been used to the sound of those jets for all of our lives. But something was very different that morning. Their flight pattern was different. They normally take off in a Northwestern pattern, but on September 11, they took off and headed East. We felt safe, yet terrified.

I remember calling Frank and telling him what was happening, and he thought I was joking at first. But other wives were calling in, horrified, as well. He soon realized, this was no joke. I brought him a radio, so they could listen at the plant to what was happening. The only thing on both radio and TV, was news of that terrible day. For the first time, the skies over Syracuse were eerily silent.

I hesitated for an hour about picking up my girls from school; and finally, I went. I needed my children with me. If we were under attack, I wanted the safety of my kids with me. We were too afraid of being so close to the airport, so many conflicting reports of missing planes. We heard four, then eight. We left the area. I will never forget the fear we felt, my sister and I. We were absolutely terrified. And we were brought so much closer together. I remember us both thinking and saying how much we appreciated each other, and loved each other.

When we picked the girls up from school, she ran down the hall to each of them, hugging them, thankful to see them. They didn't understand why so many kids were leaving school. Why were we there to pick them up? Why did so many Moms and Dads have such sad and scared faces?

We remain very close. We haven't forgotten. The girls and I were watching a little bit of coverage lastnight; I asked them what they remembered. They don't really remember much more than my fear. That and leaving school, and seeing the buildings, the towers. They see the hate now. There will be a moment of silence in their school today. I'm sure there will be many of those. For now, I am away from the TV, I saw enough of that five years ago. But still hold this one question:

WHERE IS OUR PATRIOTISM?

Back home, to school, just plain life

This has certainly been one crazy week! And I'm so glad it's over. looking back, I can hardly believe it all took place in one simple little week. My family came home, minus one - Philip, on Tuesday. I was so happy when they finally pulled in. They were thrilled to be home. My littlest traveller had been awake the entire trip, since 4am, no nap, no stop of the chatter, he just keeps going and going. Honestly, where do little boys get so much energy?? His favorite paart of the trip was by far, the guns! Seeing the other Marines, playing on the beach, that was ok, but the guns were too cool for him. Tuesday he wanted to be a Police Officer. Not even a Marine after all of that, but a Police Officer. his words, by the way.

The girls did nothing but bicker the whole way there and back. What is it about those girls? But they enjoyed themselves, nontheless. With only a few hours of catch-up and it was ready for bed and school, as Wednesday was the first day. Busy busy busy.

The entire time, I had been battling ice pick after ice pick, from the right then to the left side. No problem, I knew of my nerve block coming on Thursday, just hang on, Deb.

I did get pics of the girls before they got on the bus, but because Cinderisa was in her usual rush to beat the bus, she didn't want her pic taken, and refused to smile. I'm still going to post it when I get it back. I'm not yet digital. Emphasis on YET. My CatMawler, well, she had to change her pants (new) because her little thighs decided to add some weight before the first day, which made her mad. She did have that outfit picked out for a week now. From the earrings to the "whites", and now, she has to change!!! Whatever! So, needless to say, there was no smile from her either. Only grunts and eye-rolling. Can't WAIT to scrap these pics.

But I know I got some great pics of my new Kindergartner. I still can't believe my baby is in k'garten. He is such a little ham. He loves to get his picture taken, and he is a little pro at posing. When the bus finally came, they had to teach him to look both ways BEFORE he was allowed to get on the bus, this wasn't going over so well. This kid was just anxious for the ride, his little buddy, AJ, was saving him a seat and everything, but he was great. And when he came home, he looks both ways before getting off, and then he runs with the most incredible smile. He is growing up. He was so impressed with the school principal, that by Friday, he wanted to be a Principal. I'll need to let Mr. L. know this. He's not taking to the whole structure thing so well, he wants to investigate and explore the room, but the teacher wants things done her way, which implies some sort of meanness in his eyes. He's forgotten how to write his name suddenly, too. Funny, we've been practicing this all summer, I'm sure it's nerves, I know he won't go to college without knowing how to write his name and tie his shoes. In a way, it's sort of cute. I really thought he would cry on his first day, having to get on the bus, but he's really loving it.

On the same day, Frank started painting. in. the. house. I'm grateful, it came out beautiful, but at the time, I was a nervous wreck. I was in a state where I couldn't do anything, but lay, in agony, holding my stinking head, for fear of implosion. Now, Frank isn't the typical "man-of-the-house" and that's ok. I love that quality about him. He's not afraid to admit it. He's not afraid of my abilities above his. He has no problem calling someone to come and do mundane household duties, where I like to tackle them myself. Painting, is something I love to do, for me it's very calming. However, it's not something I've been able to do in the last few years because of the demon that has taken over my nervous system. But my Frankie decided that he wanted to do this - for me, his Queen bee, as he calls me. A very sweet gesture, I know. But he was totally stressed out during the whole ordeal. And he was doing a great job of it. He did our upstairs hallway and 1/2, which has 5 doors, back-breaker. The cutting in had him cussing up a storm. But it really looks beautiful. Then the living room came, this was where I started to stress. He didn't want to put down any tarp, on furniture, which freaked me out, and I made sure that changed. But on the hardwoods?????? Well, we're getting them resurfaced in a few weeks. But again, he surprised me, and did a truly wonderful job! I am actually going to hire him to do a few more rooms. We're going to have someone else come and do ceilings, because, well, screw that, who wants to do that?! Now he has the lower hallway which has only 4 doors, so that won't be so bad. He's a pretty good painter afterall. Even if it did stress us both out, he did a fantastic job and I'm proud of him. he did something he hates to do. Oh, and he was on vacation! And because I was sick, he was juggling the kids, too. As well as me on Thursday.

I had a terrible experience after the block; I had a bad night before that, weird scary auras, and I woke myself up talking in my sleep, the little I did get. The migraine was at a 9 when I got to the surgery center. My BP refused to stablize and I could feel myself sort of coming in and going out. And my head was unbelievably raging a 10. It was one of those days where you just want someone to pull the plug from you, make it all go away. Yeah, that kind of bad. I imagine the paint smell was adding to the fuel, but this one was hanging on for about 2 weeks. Just giving me one hell of a time. Here's hoping the block helps. I'm feeling better than I did, not quite myself yet, whoever she is. I don't really know anymore. I'm somewhere between feeling really lowsey, and just ok. Always. I'm getting picked a little, not the sharp, burning stab I was getting, so that's a good thing. I'm beginning to see and accept that there probably is no real end in sight; only some good days in between the really bad ones. I'll take them when I get them, live them to the fullest.

My Uncle came in from Florida, and visited me on Thursday, the day of the block. It was great to see him, and I may see him again today at a picnic with some other family I haven't seen in a long time. It appears that his son also has migraines. It is just running through both sides of my family - guess I just got the mother load. Unfortunately for my kids, it's on their Dad's side, as well. Thankfully, we're further ahead of the game now, than when I was their age. For I've been suffering a long time. Not like the ones I get now and as often, but they were there just the same. Always there.

Frank and I took Lexi to dinner lastnight - what a trip!!! Her new saying, "No Way!" She had me cracking up, she is such a beautiful young lady. It blows me away that she is going to be 18 next month. I just realized that I'm going to need to change her from pediatrician to gp. I just can't imagine that. Because she will always be a child, of course, mentally. I guess I'll just have to talk to her ped and find out at what age he'll be willing to let her go. 18.

Well, Philip is officially on his first tour. And he is ready. We are proud. Proud of his decision to stand for our country. Proud of him for making something of himself and not wasting his life. He watched his friends make bad decisions and he was afraid he would fall into the same path, he chose a better one -- for that we are proud of him. Now all we can do, is pray for his safety and wait to see him come home. I'm making that trip! We can write him through something called, "Motomail" but he can't respond, that's ok. It will give us a piece of him in a small weird way. We'll take what we can for now, and wait for the rest later. The holidays, I'm sure are going to be hard on Frank, but we'll get him through. Maybe he'll be able to call.

Hoping all a pain-free weekend
deborah

Home Alone........

It's not all that's it used to be. I miss my family. I wish I could travel. They are basking in the 85 degree, sunny, humid beach weather. I am sitting home, migraine-laiden 61 degree, crappy weather, no sun, all clouds.

My job while they are gone is to choose paint for the living room and hallways. Usually a wonderful task for me. Not so much right now. I went to Home Depot yesterday, grabbed a few swatches with Terri, had dinner with her and Mike, came home, went to bed. Uneventful, yeah, I know. Woke with the axe hitting my skull, tears still streaming down my face. I think if the weather would just clear a little, my migraine might just let up. Might. just. let. up. Here's hoping. I realized after looking at those swatches this morning, I need to look at a bunch more. So, that is my job again today. So maybe Lowe's will have some colors to my liking.

I'm so glad the kids were able to go down with Frank. Marisa a/k/a Cinderisa was reluctant at first, but seeing the base, the beach, and the heat, she's pretty ok with it. Oh, that and being able to be a complete pest on the way home (call me about that one Allie!) makes everything ok with her. I just want a Marine flag when they get here. I did manage to get the yellow ribbons yesterday, although they weren't what I was looking for. I'll need to make my own. They'll do for now. I miss my family. I can't wait to hear their voices, even the stupid bickering - can you stand it!! Funny, when it's in your face how you hate it. Deafening how loud silence is when the kids are gone.

Rocco knew that Philip was leaving again. He sat ON his feet yesterday. Funny dog. Pitiful, really. The kids were packing their stuff in the van, Phil was just sitting on the couch, I think he was just taking in everything here. Rocco was taking in Philip. When it was finally time for all to leave, Rocco started to cry, and ran for the door. We told him, "no," but of course, he made his way out and ran into the van, onto the back seat. It was cute in a sad way. He knows when Philip leaves, he doesn't come for a long time. I really think he knew this time. He could tell that Phil's demeanor was different. Our demeanor was very different. The kids were going this time, and Daddy. He didn't want to get out of the van. I literally had to drag him by his prong collar, he didn't even feel it. He didn't want to leave Philip, kept sniffing him and crying, looking back. So sad. I had a hard time letting him go myself. I just held him tight, he told me, "I'll be ok, Debbie, you can let me go." I know, in my heart, he'll be ok, he is God's child. But he is Frank's son, he isn't my own flesh and blood, so I really can't imagine what Frank is going through, but I know, my own heart aches for Philip. Knowing he will be in a land so far away from us; a land of people so far from a loving God, and who hate Americans. Not all of them, I know. But the one's he is there to fight, do. Those, are the fearful, that I fear for him. That I pray will never be allowed get near our Philip and his troops.

Today, they are on a hot, sunny beach; playing, running, swimming. Having fun together. I know Frank: he is fretting to get to that damn depot to get souveniers to take back here, for the kids to get souveniers. I hope he allows them to have fun. He is sooooooo anal retentive. Poor Frank. Just HAVE FUN!!! I so wish I could have been there. But if i were right now, I'd be in the hotel room, in bed, drapes closed, abortives, gingerale. Yeah, fun for all. I'm glad for them, that I'm here. They will have more fun not having to worry about me in the stupid hotel room. I do hope they enjoy him. I hope Nicholas gets to see the guns and tanks and Marisa gets to see the Marines in formation. I can't wait to hear the stories when they get home.

I dread Friday, when Philip leaves for Iraq. For his Dad, his Mom, his sister, and Nonna and Nonno. For the rest of his family. Philip is anxious to leave. That is what he told me yesterday. He wants to go. He's ready, I can't believe it, I don't understand it - but he is ready. That is the attitude he needs to have, I suppose, a ready one. We will never be ready.

I just can't wait for all of them to be home. ALL of them. Philip included.

He made it!

Thankfully, Philip made it home. He was stuck in NYC for most of yesterday in an airport due to Ernesto. But he's home. I came down this morning, and there he was, sprawled out on the couch. He didn't sleep in his own bed, I'm not sure why, and I don't care, I'm just so glad he made it home. He looks great. He says he's going to lose a lot of weight and get skinny while he's in Iraq. I guess I'm just in some sort of denial phase, not wanting to think about him being there. I mean, I know he's going, has to go, made a decision to join and I'm proud of him for that. It's the idea of not being able to just pick up the phone to call and hear his voice. Knowing that he's in a land that Hates Americans, and live to die for their Allah. Those are the thoughts I push back, and I push hard the fact that he goes along with it.

I got all of Nick's things together this morning to pack; he's going with them, Phil, Frank and the girls - they will all be going to NC to bring him to his deployment. I can't go. Mostly I blame my illness and inability to travel. But in truth, I hate to say "good-bye" to him. I just can't bring myself to even imagining being there, and leaving him. I literally cannot process the thought.

I wonder what is going through his mind at a time like this. Of course, they've prepared him, in some government brain-washing methodology I'm sure. But deep down, what are they all thinking?? I don't think I really want to know.

So tomorrow, 6am, they leave - AND I GET THE HOUSE TO MYSELF!!!!!! Home alone! YIPEE!! Hopefully, if I can kick the migraine that's been ruling my world for the past week, I will be cleaning and scrapbooking. Maybe a glass of wine, or 2 or 3!!!! GO AWAY MIGRAINE! I may even hit the Fair on Monday, who knows? By myself, even. Some alone time is a great thing for a girl. And I love it. Call me strange, but I do love some quality alone time once in a great while.

I feel for my Frankie though. I know his heart is going to be breaking when he has to turn his back on Philip, and drive away, the long trip home. Good thing he'll have those LOUD kids of mine to keep him company!!!!!!!! I just hope they don't fight. I pray they get there and home safe. (Boy I wish Allie was home this weekend) . We were all talking about how much we miss her, how sweet she is, her phone calls and visits. Such a personable young woman.

Time to get some much needed supplies for the trip. As always, I wish for all a pain-free weeknd

deborah

Philip to Deploy

Philip is scheduled to come home tomorrow for the weekend; but Ernesto has gotten in the way of our plans. It has shut down the airport in North Carolina, and I'm sure, it is shutting down the lives of many people in it's path.

I was watching some show on Monday, I don't remember what it was, but it was about the aftermath of Katrina. It was absolutely heart-wrenching. I remember my son and I going thru our closets last year, collecting whatever we could to help out - in any way we could. It was the only thing I could do at the time. I really had NO idea of the devastation. I don't think anyone did. I still don't understand why it took so long for help to get there.

Will it take so long this time, should it happen again? In NC. What if it happened in the Capitol? Would it take as long to help our precious officials, to get them the aide they need? The food, drink, the proper elimination areas required? Would they be there for them? Who will "they" be?

But for this weekend, I'm hoping Ernesto will just let up and leave, peacefully. We would like to see our Philip, for he will be home this last time before his deployment - his first tour to Iraq. Frank and the kids will be bringing him back over the holiday. Because I can't travel, I will not be going. We will fly both an American and a Marine flag (OORAH!) for him while he is gone, as well as yellow ribbons. I told him this this morning when I talked to him. I asked him to help his Dad purchase the Marine flag while they are on base. The kids are so excited to see him in uniform, in formation with his buddies on base. Nicholas can't wait to see the Marine base, the tanks, the guns (of course) everything Marine!! This is going to be so hard for Frank - leaving his son. Leaving his son. Leaving. That sounds so different now. The impact that word has now. I was so emotional when I heard his voice today. Please pray for our Philip, for his safety, for his platoon and their safety. For his family. His very large family.

As always, wishing all pain-free days!
deborah

Abit about Lewis Carroll

I've been knocked around all weekend with this little storm. I'm waiting for it to go away, for my meds to kick in, or kick it out. Three days of abortives now, and I don't like to go over that, for fear of the dreaded rebound to hit me.

I was hit pretty hard yesterday while we were shopping. I bent down to pick up Q-tips, I should know better than to bend down, but we were out. We needed them. But when I started to stand up, tht's when the ice pick hit, deep inside my skull, and hard and fast. I couldn't move, I was frozen there between the bend and stand. I couldn't hear right, just a muffling sound around me, and I was losing my vision in my right eye, the black sand. And then the nausea. I knew I was in for it, deep inside I knew, but I tried to block it, tried to ignore it, like always, thinking, wishing, hoping it would go away. I found Frank, and he was talking to a friend I hadn't seen in probably 5 years - about, what else, MIGRAINES!!!!! And naturally, I start feeling it all come on heavy, but I'm still suppressing it, yeah, stupid, I know. Like it's really going to go away if I think it away. She starts asking me questions about medication and stuff and I tried to answer her, and that's wehn it was all over for me, and he knew it, and I finally knew, and she could see that I was different than the woman she knew back then.

I couldn't speak. My words were now jumbled and not coming. I couldn't remember anything I was taking to tell her of. My tongue felt as if it was swollen and numb, so my words were almost impossible to pronounce. I had to hold her cart and ours for balance, because the motion of the people around me were making my balance much worse. We exchanged numbers and Frank and I finally started to walk; he with his gimp from his knee injury, and I with that awkward neurological stupid walk I have when the big one is coming on. He kept asking me if I needed to go to the car, and I refused. I'm stubborn that way. All the while, the picking was working it's way, bit--by-bit back into my skull, deeper and deeper. With each blow, I could feel my legs getting weaker and weaker; and he could see it. He can always see it. I can never hide it from him.

We get to the cereal isle, and as I reached for the box I wanted, I knew I was finally defeated; I couldn't move, frozen again. Totally frozen. Legs wouldn't move, I couldn't speak, I could feel my whole right side about to just go out from under me. I was completely frozen - I just couldn't move. And he was watching me, and asking me what I wanted, and he could see it in my face - and he imitated my movement, or lack of, the jerkiness, and my face - and we just started laughing. I mean, what else can we do??

That's how we handle it - we laugh at IT, because what other choice do we? We've both done the crying, and that only brought frustration and defeat. At least if we laugh, we just move on. I don't feel sorry for myself, it's just not my way - I have actually thanked God for my disease. Crazy, yeah. But I believe He has made me a stronger person in it in many ways. I am a fighter. For one, it has brought me back to Him. For that reason alone, I am thankful. He gets me through it everyday.

We found this great second-hand bookstore Friday night - a new favorite place for me. Anyway, I picked up The COMPLETE (yeaah) All of Lewis Carroll's stories, verses, puzzles,etc.. everything - in ONE BOOK!!! OK so you can see I'm excited about it. I went in looking for Through the Looking Glass but they didn't have it, this was all they had. I have been going nuts with it. Knowing he was a migraineur and being told I could find some of his suffering in his writing, I've been eager to find, check this out:

From PHOTOGRAHY EXTRAORDINARY
The Spasmodic or German School

Firebrands and daggers! hope hath fled!
To atoms dash the doubly dead!
My brain is fire--my heart is lead!
Her soul is flint, and what am I?
Scorch'd by her fierce, relentless eye,
Nothingness is my destiny!

Ok, today, to me it was explaining my icepick! But this nest one is even better, trust me.

LAYS OF MYSTERY,

IMAGINATION, AND HUMOR

N

Number I

THE PALACE OF HUMBUG

I Dreamt I dwelt in marble halls,

And each damp thing that creeps and crawls,

Went wobble-wobble on the walls.

Faint odours of departed cheese,

Blown on the dank, unwholesome breeze,

Awoke the never-ending sneeze.

Strange pictures decked the arras drear,

Strange characters of woe and fear,

The humbugs of the social sphere.

One showed a vain and noisy prig,

That shouted empty words and big

At him that nodded in a wig.

And one, a dotard grim and gray,

Who wasteth childhood's happy day,

In work more profitless than play.

Whose icy breast no pity warms,

Whose little victims sit in swarms,

And slowly sob on lower forms.

And one, a green thyme-honoured Bank,

Where flowers are growing wild and rank,

Like weeds that fringe a poised tank.

All birds of evil omen there

Flood with rich Notes the tainted air,

The witless wanderer to snare.

The fatal Notes neglected fall,

No creature heeds the treacherous call,

For all those goodly Strawn Baits Pall.

The wandering phantom broke and fled,

Straightway I saw within my head

A vision of a ghostly bed,

Where lay two worn decrepit men,

The fictions of a lawyer's pen,

Who never more might breathe again.

The serving-man of Richard Roe

Wept, inarticulate with woe:

She wept, that waited on John Doe.

"Oh rouse", I urged, "the waning sense

With tales of tangled evidence,

Of suit, demurrer, and defence."

"Vain", she replied, "such mockeries:

For morbid fancies, such as these,

No suits can suit, no plea can please."

And bending o'er that man of straw,

She cried in grief and sudden awe,

Not inapproprately, "Law!"

The well-remembered voice he knew,

He smiled, he faintly muttered "Sue!"

(Her very name was legal too.)

The night was fled, the dawn was nigh:

A hurricane went raving by,

And swept the Vision from mine eye.

Vanished that dim and ghostly bed,

(The hangings, tape; the tape was red:)

'Tis o'er, and Doe and Roe are dead!

Oh, yet my spirit inly crawls,

What time it shudderinly recalls

That horrid dream of marble halls!

Oxford, 1855

Has anyone else had weirdo dreams during migraine?????

But that's all for tonight. Time for my trusty (I hope) Toradol and bed. Heres hoping you have a wondrful, pain-free day. You, too, Ian.

Deborah

Caution - Hormones Raging! Stay Back 500 Feet

There should be a sign on my front door, or one coming both ways toward my house with the warning. Not for me, mind you; for the two raging maniacs I bore from my uterus. This "warning" should be posted with flashing lights, sirens, the works. How is it that they get it at the same time? And WHY????

I can remember the day, Friday, January 13th. Yeah, no joke, Friday the 13th! I am by no means a supersticious creature by nature - it was merely coincidence . A funny one at that. Cinderisa was first. She actually wanted it. We all wanted it as girls. Remember, Are You There God, it's Me, Margaret?, case in point. Well, she wanted it, her friends had it, and then, BOOM - she got it! At the appropriate age of 13. I, being the crazy Mom that I am, made all of the necessary phone calls to my friends and relatives, "Guess who's a little lady today????" Hey, I was excited for her! She, of course, no longer wanted what she had been anticipating; however, there is a no-return policy on this situation. A horrible lesson we've all learned too well. I gave her the ins-and-outs of being clean and sanitary about IT. A must, I believe. Told her to make sure she always kept them handy in her locker and bookbag in case of emergency - because they WILL happen.

Then Monday came, just 3 short days later and the phone rings; "Mom, (insert a lot of hysterical crying), I got my period on my chair!"
"Did you have pads with you?" I asked, knowing we just had that conversation.
"NO! Why would I have pads?"
"What do you mean, 'why would I have pads?' you should be keeping them in your locker and bookbag in case of emergency! honey" I'm reminding her
"Well I didn't know!" (lot's of sobbing and crying)
"Wait, how didn't you know, you've had it all weekend, and I told you this morning to bring pads. You DID know, sweetheart." I reminded again.
"I did NOT have my period, Mom." (more crying)
Now I'm confused.
"Who is this?" I asked, thinking maybe some little girl called the wrong house.
"It's Christina!"
So now I'm laughing hysterically at her, poor baby, and trying to calm her down. She is only 10 years old!!!!!! She isn't supposed to get her period for like 10 more years - she's my baby girl. Bratz dolls and all. Wall-to-wall stuffed animals, pink pony-tail holders - all girly-girl girl! This can't be happening!

Wow, what a week that was. It's pretty funny everytime I think of it. I wasn't even thinking at all she'd be getting it. Even though she's so much more developed than Marisa. The age thing threw me.

I had been too sick to drive at the time, and we only had one car, so I couldn't even rescue the poor thing. So I called my BFF Terri, we live for these moments - literally. This is the kind of cake and ice cream or special dinner celebration in our world! Everything is a "scrapbook moment" to us. Somehow, the period, not so much. But still, it was special. She gladly picked her up from school, supplied her with much-needed chocolate and took her to Mc D's. The kid was in hormone heaven.

And I have been in anything but ever since! These 2 girls have co-incided their periods each month, and with mine, too. But the mood swings - God help me! Or help Frank, because he just doesn't get it. You'd think by now he would.

Now Frank is wonderful about most anything that falls in his lap; this he just doesn't get. Mood swings - like we want or better yet, can control them. I try to help him understand this, but the poor guy just looks at each of us and shakes his head. While we're secretly ripping his head off BIT BY BIT, SLOWLY, V E R Y S L O W L Y, SO HE FEELS NOTHING BUT PAIN!!!!!!! Ok, so my hormones are racing right now - blame it on my girls. We don't really want to dismember him, just anyone who gets in the way.

Marisa had the mean and nasty hormone rages this month.
Christina has had the sad and weepies.
I'm on the verge of REDRUM sort of. Hopefully, it will get here, and I'll feel better. I just laugh at my girls, thinking, mine will soon be over, but YOURS HAS JUST BEGUN!!!!!!! I shouldn't laugh, because while they're under our roof, we must live with them. Their moods, the meanness, the sobbing, weaping - all of it. Nicholas just smiles and says, "you got your periods!" Not really understanding the jist of it, but to him, it's funny. It's a girl thing, and he doesn't get one. brat

Tonight, in 5 more hours actually, they go to their Dad's for the weekend; hooray! The remainder of this will pass, the moods will, no doubt, lighten up. And he will get to enjoy the rages. Enjoy Carmey. Poor Frank will have only ME to deal with for the weekend. I'm thinking a bottle of wine might just make things all better. For me or him, are you asking? Well, I guess you'll just have to wait on that.

Happy Birthday, Cinderisa

Today marks my girl's 14th birthday! Where does the time go???? So much has changed since she was just a little thing. She didn't start out little, though. When she was born, she was 8 pounds, 8 ounces! Head out and screaming - TMI, yeah. The doc said, "you're in for it with this one!" And he wasn't kidding! This child screamed non-stop for the first 4 years of her life. So did I. I cried, wondering, what was wrong with her. When she was 16 months old, after months of projectile vomitting, endles fevers, and more, she ended up in the hospital in renal failure. We were terrified. She was so sick. We were told she could lose her kidney, or worse, lose her. She made it, thankfully. She was a tough little fighter.

This is her, shortly after it all happened. This child, sat up at 4 months old. I wasn't used to that, as Alexa sat up for the first time on her first birthday. I remember trying to sit Michael up at 4 months, thinking if she could, surely he could; but he fell backward. OOPS! Poor Mike.

"look, I found a quarter!" Easter egg hunt. This is on Virginia Beach; our vacation place. The kids absolutely love it there. Unfortunately, we didn't go this year as I'm no good with travelling. Maybe I will be better next year gang. I hope so for your sakes.

Here she is with Cassie at the "Awards Banquet" at school. It's unbelievable how tall that girl is, isn't it!!! Marisa is NOT that short either. Cassie is just very tall. Marisa calls her, her friendly giant.

This is her instrument of choice! My little girl is a drummer. It's not the best choice for someone who suffers from migraines, I know, and NO, we don't have a set here - she does at her Dad's house. Not her own, but his. One day, I'm hoping we can invest in a set for her, maybe set up the shed for her. It's pretty big, with lights and electricity; far enough away from the house where it won't affect me, and will give her some privacy. It's a great way for her to get out any aggression. Believe me, she has aggression. Girl+hormones=aggression. Oh, that and having a sick Mom added to it, you do the math.

Anyway, this is a great kid my Cinderisa. I can't wait to start my day with her. I've spent too much of it doing nothing today. We need to go shopping and do something with her. Just her! I'm sure she'll enjoy that. I know God has an amazing plan for her life and I hope and pray she heeds to it.

Happy Birtday big girl. I can't believe you are 14. I love you so much. You are a unique and wonderful young lady. The world is right outside our doorstep, just waiting to devour you. I am going to do my best to keep you safe and wonderful and healthy as long and as best as I can. Stay you. Because YOU are truly awesome! I love you.

Mom

Yellow for Schoolbus

To date, I have received the supply lists (insert rage here) for two of my children. It kills me to read the amount of items my kindergartner will need, since he will only be there for 2 1/2 hours. Such as:

2 "Expo" dry erase markers - to which I'm just wondering why he would need them!?,
6 - yeah 6 "Elmers" glue sticks, 2 "elmers" glue bottles. (like, what on earth is he going to be gluing?? that would require such an amount?)
1 Box zip lock baggies (sandwich size), and 1 Box in storage size. (hmmm)
2 Crayola crayons - 12 or 24 pack. (So if I buy him the 24, does that count as 2 -12 packs??)
1 Box colored pencils
1 Box sharpened pencils (thankfully, he's been saving a bunch of them)
1 pink eraser (he's not going to agree on that one!)
1 two pocket folder
1 container of Clorox wipes - (seems the boy will be busy keeping things in his area clean and fresh)
1 box of tissues.

then there is the "Optional School Supplies"
liquid pump soap
paper towels
brown lunch bags
paper plates

Call me crazy, (crazy bi#$*!), and I don't mean to sound cheap, but WTF?!!! I get the whole, someteachershavetospendtheirsalariesonschoolsuppliesbecauseparentsaretoocheaptobuytheir ownkidsthethingstheyNEED!!!!! Some of these supplies, and "Brand names" seemed a bit far out for me to fathom. This for a 2 1/2 hour kindergarten class. Oh, and he "will need a healthy snack and drink everyday. Please send this in on a daily basis!" OK, got that! However, he will just be finishing lunch before he goes off on the big yellow school bus; so he's already being robbed of precious time he could actually be spending , say , learning, that we must toss in snack time to the daily activity as well? Of course, I'm sure that is where the "Clorox wipes" come in to play as he'll need to clean and sanitize his area. I'm thinking this is going to take about 30 minutes of his already too short day! But that's just me thinking too far into the whole thing.

I'm very excited for him, the whole new experience of kindergarten thing. He's very nervous about it right now. "I don't want to go to kindergarten." He wants to go back to his preschool class. (Hey, he actually had 3 1/2 hours there!) I'm sure it will be so wonderful for him. He's a little bummed that his buddy, AJ will not be in his class; but on a good note, we found lastnight that Alyssa will be in his school. Whether she is AM or PM has yet to be found out, but I'm hoping it's PM, and they get to be in together. That would just be so awesome for the 2 of them. Both transition-wise, and well, because!!

Here's the list for sixth grade: (just can't wait to get Cinderisa's)

4 different colored 1 in. 3-ring binders

2-3 packs wide-rule loose-leaf paper

7 pocket folders

red, blue, and black pens. ( no gels or green )

2 packs of 10!!!! #2 pencils

colored pencils

calculator

highlighters,

3 boxs of tissues - pop-up type preferred. (that makes me want to get something altogether different -just because)

1 pack magic markers

2glue sticks (sounds reasonable)

scissors

1 blank floppy computer disk. (I thought I'd send our finacial records instead!)

1 ruler, with customary and metric units. (because we use the metric system here in the US!!)

Oh, and all textbooks must be covered thru the year.

Not too bad! I can handle that. It's the Jr High that's gonna hit the account right off! With the graphing calculator I understand. She's having it permanently attatched next Tuesday at 3; a friend of ours does exotic piercing and........ Oh I'm kidding, but if she loses the damn thing - she's dead! that's it, dead! Like the skunk outside my window, D E A D!!!! We haven't gotten that list yet, I think they wait until the day before school starts and say something like this:

Welcome parents and students of said Jr High. We hope this will be a pleasant learning experience for all of you; We also hope you had a relaxing and enjoyable summer vacation - BECAUSE WE'RE HERE TO BUST YOUR BUBBLE WITH THE SCHOOL SUPPLY LIST. AAAHHAAAAA HAA HAAA HAAA!!!!!!! oK, maybe a bit overboard in the dramatics. I'm sure they will expect everything on the first day, as well as the added lists they send home with them on FRIDAY! Oh, with the extra $$$$$$$$$$$$$ they'll want for expenditures like, party money, and workbooks, and locker fees, and union fees, and fire hose rental, and garbage disposal, and the rent-a-cop and..............yeah, I'm stressing a little.

It's back-to-school time, and I'm a Mom that actually sends my kids into the wilds of the public school system. Morals they learn at home. (Scary isn't it!) I tried the home-schooling thing with Cinderisa, and I did do some pre-school stuff that was wonderful. She learned her shapes and colors, I even taught her sign language; and she grasped it, well! But, keeping her home with me all day, NOPE! Wasn't for me. Not that full-time-home-school-sort-of-Mommy! Just not me. I commend anyone who can. And I know a lot of Moms that do; but it just wasn't for me. I could see myself in a padded cell - that was my future. I had no patience for it. My heart goes out to the teachers that have classrooms full of children. I enjoy being in the classroom with my kids for parties and such; but not in my home. And that's ok for me.

Whoa! I just realized something scary! Cinderisa is a freshman this year! I was just a freshman not that long ago!!! Yikes. Scarier yet, when I was a freshman, it was the 80's, and now - it looks like they're trying to come back! The 80's fashions, hair, all of it. Ugly. I've always had my own t-shirt and jeans kind of fashion thing going on. I like to dress up on occassion, look a little more snazzy on other days. But please don't allow the hidious looks of the 80's come back!

Something different; the girls decided to give Miss Nala a bath today! I tried to insert her pic but didn't work. Anyway, they thought she smelled bad, and thought she needed a bath. Yeah, 'cause cats like that sort of thing! Well, I'm here to say, she didn't like it. But boy did she look funny when they were done with her. And we found the reason for her smelling bad; a boo-boo on her neck. Probably from something she killed. So a little Bag Balm and she's starting to fluff up nicely. Poor Naly! Now she has to be irritated by me putting gunk on her boo-boo. At least she had a bath, a "berryliscious" one at that.

Well, I do hope everyone out there in Migraineland is feeling well today. I'm off to do some dreaded school supply shopping. What fun. I'll be singing as I go; to the tune of, "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" and the kids will, likely, be glaring at me. To which I say, "WHATEVER!"

ciao

deborah

Poetry in Motion

Today is becoming a much better day than the previous two days. Thank you, Lord! I thought for sure I was in for something awful. Who knows, I still could be, but for now, I feel much better.

I changed my template to something that remotely resembles a sort of storm front appearance. I've looked at the other pages out there, and while they are quite glamorous, I think this is what I'll stick with. For now. I like it. It reminds me of a painting a friend did for me from a poem I wrote. I can't seem to find the painting, maybe it was lost from moving, I don't know; but it's driving me nuts because it's lost. I used to write poetry, and I suppose I should try to pick it up again. Today I'm submitting the poem:

The Lighthouse

I sailed upon the sea one day,

Amid the waters tossing way;

And though I feard the storms dim plight,

Out in the distance, a blinking light.

I tried to reach through that storms roar,

The wonderous sight of that peaceful shore;

When all around me, a fog so dense,

My fear grew heavy, my body, tense.

And as the fear inside me grew,

That blinking light, shone brightly through;

And though the fog was heavy, still,

I neared the shore, for it was God's will.

And I felt a peace come over me,

As I finally left that roaring sea;

That Lighthouse brought me safely home,

And I look upon It when feeling alone.

I walked along that sandy shore,

Where the Lighthouse stands and blinks for more;

It calls to those upon the sea,

Whose souls cry out to be set free.

A step in faith, we need to take,

And trust in Him, for our souls sake;

For Jesus, the Lighthouse represents,

And saving souls, was why He was sent.

So when life's throwing us to and fro,

Call on His name, and we will know;

That on the shoreline, blinking bright,

The Lighthouse, Jesus, our Heaven's Light;

Will bring us safe, from stormy sea,

And dwell with us, eternally.

I wrote that poem May 15, 1997 and my life has changed, dramatically since then. My faith hasn't waivered. I still believe in my Lord as Savior. But there was a time I was very bitter; both with myself and the church. I had left my husband, it was a very ugly time in my life and in his. I walked away from my God, in a very hateful way. But He is a loving and forgiving Father. And I am thankful for this. I am just now walking back towards my Loving Father. I'm hoping and praying that my children will walk to Him as well.

I wrote many, many poems during those days. Maybe I'll share them here. Maybe you'll want to read them, or maybe you'll feel the need to not read my blog any longer. I hope you'll feel compelled to read on, though. Maybe you have had the same experiene in leaving Him, and have a desire to find Him again. I hope you have a desire to find Him, seek Him, trust me, He wants to be found. There is much peace in being the one who finds Him again. I know. I'm living proof.

So that is my plug for the day. I hope you come back! Stay well.

deborah

Warning - Aura ahead

That is what I woke to this morning. There was no actual "warning" but there was no actual visual field either. Only aura. The kind that is THERE! The DEEP unpenetrable (is that a word???) sheet that I woke to. It was almost blinding in thickness. I'm not sure I can even explain the contents of it, there was so much to be had. Thick! That's what it was. I couldn't see. It was so thick, the aura. I could only see the aura around me. I can only feel the aura still. I am dizzy with it.

It began yesterday afternoon, after I left the church. It always begins there; something about the auditorium - the way the room makes me feel afterward. Off, in my balance, the way I sway in my head, and then on my feet, or off my feet.

I just can't tolerate the red any longer. I apologize for the color changes.

When I got home, the migraiane hit me - Hrd! I laid on the couch, and the sounds arond me became so loud, and I was so cold. Frank was out mowing the lawn. When he came in and found me, he sent me to bed with 2 Toradol and a Zofran. But it didn't help. I had hoped it would. It didn't. I couldn't eat dinner. Just gingerale. I went to bed, and then I got up this morning to the amazing technicolored and thickness of my aura. I am still trying to get thru it all. My head is still swimming, my balance off. I'm still fighting the pain. Naturally, I'm thinking of the list I have to do; laundry - the pile of it! It never ends. The lists of school supplies for the kids came this weekend - so I need to get that done. School shopping must get started. My house is a mess again. I don't clean on the weekend anymore, taht time is for my family.

The kids and I had a blast on Friday, we hit a few garage sales, it was so much fun. Cinderisa was reluctant, but was later glad she went. She was able to find some great buys of her own. We found games, sweaters, Nicholas was able to buy himself 2 baseball bats!!! They even threw in a Yanks cap wit the bats. A new little deco for my car. Yes, Cassie, the Yanks are rocking your Sox this weekend!!!!!! "Who's your Daddy???!!!"

For now, I need to get myself motivated as best I can despite my little brewing storm front. I hate giving in to it. I do know it will get me eventually, not now however. I have things to do. Driving is out of the realm of possibilites today. I'm not stupid, cautious. Home is where I'll stay, get things done here.

I hope all in Migraineland have a better day
deborah

New Club in Town

CLUBLIBBYLU - Oh yeah! If you haven't yet visited, go on over! THIS is where I want MY next birthday party. I don't care how old I am, or young, or whatever - this is the place for parties!! I'd heard about it, read about it in the paper when the door opened; but had yet to see it for myself. Now I'm hooked. Talk about playing dress-up! I thought the folks at "Build-a-Bear" knew what they were doing to come into the cash flow arena, they've got nothing on Miss Libby.

Let me just say first, my favorite and ONLY color for about 10 years, was pink. I had purses, socks, shoes, jewels, pants, shorts, shirts - you get the idea - in only pink. I was told I even "smelled Pink." Imagine that. My mother used to tell me I looked like I was wearing the same thing over and over. I didn't care; it was my color of choice and I couldn't get enough of it. Over the years, I learned to appreciate other colors of the rainbow and stretched my horizon in apparel with those colors. And now, I have the Cat Mawler, who also loves pink. A (step) grand daughter, who can be fashioned in pink, a neice, age 5, who can be adapted to the color as well. Cinderisa is more of a this color girl, and a little of this, with lots of this. So getting her into anything remotely near that side of the rainbow is a lost cause.

Until we stepped into fashionista land of Club Libby Lu, add a little "TA DA" with that and some fairy dust, and you're onto my side of the fence. My sister Denise, used to call me Miss Priss, when we were growing up - to that I say, "what everrr" and flip my hair. (fairy dust sprinkling around me). Even Cinderisa was enjoying herself, dressed herself in pretty pink boas, cowgirl hats, and crowns.

I suppose I should set the scene: I'm just rambling with excitement about the place. Me, the Power Ranger, Cinderisa, Cat Mawler; Terri, Amy, her friend Sara and her grandma. Oh, and I forgot, we had Vanessa!!!! (grand daughter - step) whatever. Anyway, we go in, and I'm in literal, "AWWW" over the place, I think we each went our seperate ways to investigate; there were clothes for your stuffed pooches, real pooches, kids, crowns - hey I believe every girl should have a crown - actually they were tiaras. For the Cat Mawlers delight, there was an entire wall of lipglosses and gels. She has a thing about lip gloss! Let me just tell you bout the purses: One was of a guitar, and the strap was the neck - way cool. Even my little drummer Cinderisa, yeah her, was getting in on the fun - she was playing dress up!!!! One purse, I may actually get her, Rock Diva, in black!!! I was having so much fun. They even have hair extensions - in a fascinating variety of color. Terri and I were trying those on. Mona, (grandma) was wearing a tiara, Amy and Sara had on the pink cowgirl hats. Before we were rushed out the door, by the not so friendly young (teen ager) manager; I spotted the bins of (insert concerto musico here) (and twinkles) Fairy Dust ! Now, we were in trouble, because we just couldn't contain ourselves - none of us - we were sprinkling each other, and giggling and just having a ball! Then we were (asked) to leave.

But, I want my next birthday party at Club Libby Lu. I don't care if they believe I'm too old! Let them say that to my face. I want to sit and have me and my friends made up, fairy dust and all, hair twisted into pincurls and pony tails, with pink extensions. Insert my tiara, ahem, crown on top, boa around the neck, sprinkle a little fairy dust. Call it a great day. What could they say? They'd probably get a kick out of it. Bunch of 40-something (you're welcome Ter!) ladies in for a party, to get all dolled up. That's it, I'm setting it up!!!! Anyone else who wants to join the party is more than welcome!

On a side note: my sis, Jamie invited the kids and I to come over for a swim yesterday - Rockhead too. It was pretty hot, so they got their suits and off we went. Rocco and Riley were in their glory, happily running and peeiing with each other, dog-butt sniffing kind of day for them. Her MIL came home from work and was able to meet Rocco, in her yard. Now poor Joanne is not what you call an 'animal person.' She will tell you so. So having Jamie's dog is one thing, having my beast, is something of - let's just say, bull in china shop in comparison. He's a large drooling idiot. It was hot, he was running, panting, and drinking. Got the picture? Seen "Hootch?" That is Rocco! Gross, I know; but to know this dog, is to love him. He is a senseless wonderbeast.

"Oh my Lord!" I believe were the first words to come out of her mouth when she came out. To which, he just had to give her the ol' doggy HELLO!! Butt sniff, which usually is followed by his 20 pound head trying to lift you off your feet. She was very calmly trying to shoo him away. Jamie and I just laughed.

Then he was terrified! Yes, my staunch protector was terrified, by Craig. her son - age, 20 I think. He walked to the slider, Rocco saw him, backed up, and started barking and yelping in horror, hair standing up and all. He ran behind Joanne's chair first, and then Jamie's. This dog was scared! Hysterical. I told him it was the AC/DC pjamys he had on. Stupid dog.

I can't wait to go Christmas shopping - I know, but just look at your calendar, it's time to start the dredded lay-away! I'm determined to get most of it completed before Christmas Eve! My first place to go, is Libby Lu - where I will, no doubt, spend too much on the little princesses in my life. The one's who will stilll wear pink and pretty things. I used to dress my girls in dresses and bows all of the time. They've outgrown that for some time! But now there are the little one's in the family - I CAN'T WAIT!!!!!!

And then, in March, I'm having my birthday party at Club LibbyLu. A few of my favorite girlfriends and I will be getting ourselves made over, and then go celebrate our new fasion. The Cat Mawler just asked if she could come along. Hmmmm, I'm not sure yet. Maybe just the older ladies this time! She's bumming. Hey, we didn't have this kind of crap when we were growing up. We just raided Mom's closet.

I now fully understand the statement, "It hurts to be beautiful." It has nothing whatsoever to do with physical pain. Unless of course, you're so vain you're having silicone shoved into your chest cavity, or collegen into your lips. (inserts Cher's scary face here). So anyway, what that statement really means is, it hurts you financially! The cost of beauty is painful. Truly painful. I, being the 'high-maintenace Queen Bee' that Frankie says I am, and I really am; need special soaps, sensitive skin. I have a strange preference for my beauty products. I have a Victoria's Secret card and I know how to use it. They have the best make up, and it doesn't make my skin erupt, itch or break out! I love their silkening lotions and use only two of their scents - I'm hooked. I can wear them, without the fear of the dreaded monster attacking my brain.

Yes, it hurts to be beautiful - an I'm in agony. But damn it, I'm going to LibbyLu for my birthday!

Today's post is dedicated to Amy. Her best friend is leaving today for the Army, and she is, well - bummed! Ryan is an absolute sweetheart. So maybe this should be to both of them. I've known Amy for all of her life, and Ryan for just a few short years; but they are both very dear to me, to my kids, mostly to each other.

Pics: This is Amy, and her brother Michael. I will post about them probably a lot. Their Mom, she's the cigar-smoking friend listed at the top of my blog. I love these 3 people. My kids, these kids - are like cousins, family; that is how close we are. We know each other inside out. Terri and I, MOM, have had more fun together with these poor unsuspecting children in their lives.........like the time we hung Amy's thongs out in the driveway as warning! TMI yeah, I know. But she wasn't supposed to wear them!!! (I'm dead for this, but we were about peeiing our pants doing it!) Hey, Ter - SH*T!!!!!! LOL

This is Ryan - and the crazy lady with the knife, is none other......what a sweetheart, sitting there all nice and calm while I'm ready to knife the guy! He really is such a great young man. Poor Miss Amy. I can't believe she is already starting her first year of college. What happens to the time? What will the time do to them? To change them, I mean. How will they turn out? She after her college career, he after boot camp, training, and unfortunately, war. I'm worrying this same thing about my stepson, Philip, who also will be leaving in just a few short weeks. These children are our future leaders. Some of that thought scares me to no end. And knowing them, comforts me as well.

The first picture ^ shows Christine, total lunatic, gotta love her. I just wonder what she will turn out to be. Michael was a "geek" for Halloween. He was a great geek, too. Funny kid; he and Cinderisa have grown up together, their b'days are only 5 days apart - yeah, that was planned! they go to school together, hang out together - did a cool rendition of Green Day for the talent show, they had the light show and everything, Mike sang and played guitar, Cinderisa on drums - the schoolkids went nuts! It was awesome! While the other kids did their songs with lip-synch - ours did the real deal. We have some pretty neat kids. The tall one in the back - that's Cassie. She plays guitar. She is another true blonde! I love these kids, their a trip to be around.The Cat Mawler was Miss America, Cinderisa was a gypsy, and I think you can pretty much tell what the Power Ranger wasn't. Safe to say, he will be this year! No, Cassie isn't on a stool; she really is that tall!

I remember when Philip was sworn in for the Marine's. You could hear a pin drop. This young man, who wore his pants like he had no hips, shoes untied, shirt oversized and slouched over his butt; suddelny had to TIE those shoes, pull UP the pants, TUCK in the shirt, and latch the belt thru the correct hole. It was an amazing makeover. Then there was the facial hair that had to be removed before he could enter the plane. I'm sure Ryan will be going thru his own little makeover. Nothing like he'll ever encounter, or has ever before.

And Amy is on her way to her own little piece of growing up world. No more "spinny dresses" for Amy. Now she drives her own car, will be going TO COLLEGE! Wow, Alexa would have been, too. But it wasn't meant to be for her. It is for Amy, and I will pray for her, a life of health, intelligence and prosperity. She is such a sweet child, with a sweet heart for people. This transition is going to be hard for her, leaving her bestest friend. It's so hard to watch someone you love, leave. But it's good for both of them. Another growing experience.

Now, Terri, my friend, you have a growing experience of your own. Don't worry, Frankie already has a cigar for you! I know that watching Ryan leave is going to be hard on you, too. But I think Amy going to college is going to have such a huge impact on all of you. GIRL YOU MUST BE FEELING OLD!! At least you don't look it. Yet. I know, I'm such a b*tch!!!!! It's good to have friends such as we. I have the wine, Frank has cigar - we'll make sure you are comfy and not too blue. I think it's called "Empty Nest Syndrome"

I'm dead! I know - my blog though. Wkhat are friends for, right? Stop by, come with us Saturday to see One Sweet World. sure to help you beat the blues.

For those who missed the golden opportunity last time, they will be in the area again this Saturday. If you love DMB, you will love this tribute band, check them out at www.onesweetworld.net. And then, check them out in your area. My little plug for the day.

Have a great weekend all. Amy I love you, and let Ryan know when you talk to him, in like 10 minutes, that I will pray for him and I will miss him.

deb