Got an Oar?

Yeah, well. The best laid plans...don't always lay down right. Remember how I said that the water I found in our hallway looked to be residual, I was to dry it up, and if it didn't come back, all was well? All's NOT well.

We had a broken pipe. The kind plumber came out to fix it, and $400 later, that's taken care of. I'm thankful we got our tax return deposit in our bank account on Friday; it will really help. Now, however, the "restoration" starts. I've been crawling on my hands and knees for hours on my son's bedroom floor, picking up toys, clothes (mostly sodden), books (many sodden), and paper (wet paper-yuck!!). Do you know how many K'Nex and Lincoln Logs and Legos and Magnetix and McDonald's cheap plastic crap fit into a 9-year-old boy's bedroom? Yeah...I didn't really count. Lots. LOTS. I can tell you that.

And now, at 11:04 p.m. Mountain Standard Time (ok, can we please, please, as a country, just pick a friggin' time??), we (yay! my husband is home from work!) are starting on our daughter's room. Do you know how many My Pretty Ponies, Barbies, Polly-who-the-hell-thought shoes measuring less than 1/8 inch in length were a good idea-Pockets, Care Bears, Princesses, dress-up clothes, and McDonald's cheap plastic crap fit into an 8-year-old girl's room? I'm probably not gonna count, in the interest of my own sanity.

But, on a good note, the city finally picked up the dead puppy! Woo-Friggin'-Hoo!!!!

:-)

What a Day!

Wow. WOW. What a day!

First, I joined the walkers at work, so I'll be walking from 11:00 a.m. until 11:30 every day. I went today and did everything the others did, with the exception of one floor of the parking garage (they walked up the stairs to the 7th floor, I made it to the 6th. I still rock for trying). I felt great afterward, like I probably wouldn't die of heart failure if I took the stairs up to ground level from the basement of the parking garage, where I park daily.

I picked up my kids after work, went home, and found my new neighbor standing in front of my house. She looked poised to get in my car as I parked, but she didn't. I said "hi, can I help you?" in a friendly manner, because I've never met her-only her daughter. She told me that some jerk in a car hit a puppy and drove off. The puppy died, and he came back later on a bike, picked up the dead puppy, and PUT HER IN THE LAWN CHAIR ON OUR FRONT PORCH!! So my 8 year old and 10 year old were welcomed home by a dead puppy. This sweet neighbor called Animal Control, and they were supposed to come get the puppy. As of 8:30 this evening, they hadn't.

I went to the mailbox (past the dead puppy) to get the mail, only to find that the city is bitching and moaning about the height of the weeds in the alley. So, I went out back and cut the weeds down with the weed eater. I finally thought of what to do with the dog, so I got a box, and kind of dumped her into it. I set her, in the box, out on the curb, because my kids wouldn't even come out front to water the flowers with me. I sprayed the lawn chair with 50/50 bleach and water, and let it sit while I watered the flowers, then sprayed the chair off to rinse it.

Then I came in the house, we had dinner and did evening stuff, and as I put the kids to bed, I noticed water oozing out under my son's bedroom carpet. We had our outdoor faucet, directly in front of his room, fixed yesterday, and the plumber (who actually answered his phone at 9:30 p.m.) thinks it's "residual water" from the leak our outdoor faucet had. So, I dried it up as best I could, and if it doesn't come back, all is well.

I'm really tired of this whole adult, parent, homeowner, grownup thing.

Help!

In 1993, my husband and I bought our first house. In 1993, waterbeds were still big fun, so we got a "big waterbed that we bought with the bread we had saved for a couple of years." [Thanks, Billy Joel, for use of the lyrics!] And it was a fabulous, comfy, warm, awesome place to sleep for about 10 years. And then, we noticed that we hurt all over every morning. It was difficult to launch ourselves and our children from the bed in the morning. Yes, we let our babies sleep in the waterbed with us-their mother was far less nervous for their safety when they were snuggled up against her. It's one of the reasons we got a king-sized bed...but I digress.

About three years ago, the above comfy, wonderful waterbed lost its touch. So, thinking that cheaper was at least okay, if not better, we got an adjustable air mattress. It's one of those like an Aerobed, but it's not the brand name. There was a remote that pumped up or deflated the bed at the touch of a button. And then...

The mattress started to leak. Quite a bit. We'd have to wake up at least once, usually twice during the night to inflate the bed. The pump was so loud, we both couldn't help but wake up. I started having daily back and neck aches. So, we bought another stupid air mattress, this one without its own pump, but with two twin mattresses that attach with a zipper, so we have one king sized bed with dual adjustability. We got that mattress fairly well adjusted. And then...

We got our taxes done. Since I'm in school full-time, we'll get a fair chunk of change back when the government processes our tax return. So, now we can afford an actual, piece-of-furniture, non-air mattress, honest-to-God BED!! As soon as we get our tax return. And there are all kinds of beds out there. My husband is extremely low maintenance in almost every aspect of life, but has a little lower back pain now that he's 40. I have back pain quite easily, and said pain can also gather in my left shoulder/neck area, meet up with friends, and give me twisting, horrible pain like crazy until I want to throw up. Thus, we can't have your joe-average, cheap, hard, $200 mattress, I don't think. So, my request for help refers to this...

What kind of bed do you think we should get? All I know is that we would like to stick with the King size, having had a queen air mattress. Any and all replies will be much appreciated! Please respond in the comments. And as always, have a nice day!

Lilacs

I got a lilac at work yesterday. I work in an anesthesia practice (the doctors who make you feel no pain during surgery) and I walked back into our surgery scheduling area. One of the ladies had these purple flowers on her desk. As I got closer I could see they were lilacs! She very graciously shared one with me. Lilacs don't grow in Phoenix, so I haven't seen one in quite some time. But this person has a friend in northern Arizona who has a lilac bush, and gave her some when she visited.

I love lilacs. I always have. They are a strong reminder of my childhood in Michigan, where they grew almost wild. Every spring, for a few precious weeks, they bloomed around our neighborhood. If I rode my bike up to Torch River Drive, near Adam Wayne's house, I could sit under huge lilac bushes and just smell the wonderful scent, and be in the cool shade of the leafy bushes and flowers. Lilacs don't really feel like roses, or other flowers. They're cool to the touch, and almost damp. The individual, plus-sign shaped purple blossoms come in so many different shades of purple, some dark and some lighter, but you can't see the variations unless you look closely. There are also white lilacs, and darker purples, but these are my favorite.

I sat at my desk yesterday and today, and every once in awhile I'd pick up the red plastic Solo cup that held my precious flower. I'd hold it to my face and just inhale. The smell brought back my childhood, for a little while. I'd remember eagerly waiting for the lilacs to bloom every spring, seeing them and all their beauty from my vantage point on the school bus, and smelling them on the little bush in our yard and the larger bushes in our neighbors', the Jenckes' yard.

It brought back what seems a simpler time, of neighborhoods and friends and school. Of bike rides and summer jobs and youth group meetings. Of sitting on "the wall" eating ice cream cones with my best friend, Rhonda. I feel sad that today's kids and young adults won't ever know what it was like there, at that time. What listening to Madonna and Toni Basil and Duran Duran and Def Leppard, while dreaming of being married to my boyfriend, was like. But then, when I was living in that time, people older than me talked about simpler times, too; and they probably lament that I didn't get to listen to the Beach Boys, Janis Joplin, and Jan and Dean sing. History always looks better, I think, because our minds romanticize what really was, smooth out the bad patches, and change it into a sepia-toned, happy memory that wants to pull us from where we really are now, back into it. But we can't go back. Only forward. And the lilacs will bloom next spring, too.

It's Monday!

I was looking for something for my boss today, a picture of a sniffling child (he’s a doctor) and came across something really disturbing on the internet (I know…what a shock…something disturbing on the internet. Who’d have thought?). It was a story of how this person, when he/she was a child (I don’t know which, didn’t read enough) had a father who burned all of his/her toys because he was angry. I am still really upset. I feel so badly for this kid, who by now has grown up enough to blog about it. It makes me want to cry.

This is yet another unwelcome aspect of depression…I seem to feel others' pain so very, VERY deeply. I mean, I understand this had nothing to do with me at all; I don’t even know who it was directed at. I don’t know if the father bought more toys, or felt bad, or anything. I just know I want to cry, and if I give in to this feeling and let it fester, I will begin thinking that I can’t possibly live on the Earth any more, because it’s too horrible here. So of course, I’m praying and listening to happy music and blogging here at work, which is frowned upon, in order to stay sane. We live in a crazy world, where horrible things happen.

Now, this all happened before I heard about yet another person with easy access to a gun went ballistic on a campus and killed 30-some people today. Which didn’t affect me nearly as much as the burned toys story. What in the world is up with that? But more importantly, why can people so easily acquire guns? Seriously. How is it necessary for everyone to have access to a firearm?

Happy Easter!

So, how was your Easter? Ours was good. This is my son, Ben, coloring eggs with my Dad.

And this is my daughter, Julie.

We were at my parents' house last night and today for Easter. We had a great time, and great food. Too much food. But great, nonetheless. This is mom and dad. They're coloring eggs, too. Mom is awake, but the flash on my camera is bright.

Did you celebrate Easter? What did you do?