Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Blog

It seems like yesterday that we got home from Colorado, but it was a week ago Sunday. The trip was great. It was unseasonably cold while we were there, and everyone continuously reminded us of that.

We came back and immediately had to go back to work, which isn’t all that much fun. Work is fine, it’s the having to go back part that isn’t. This past weekend we had my company Christmas party on Friday, which was very nice, and then we had our annual open house on Saturday, which was wonderful.

We limited our invited list this year and the mix of people was ideal. We had such a great time, and even though the house seemed full, we still had time to sit and talk with each and every one of our guests. Frank and Beck had a blast with all the kids, and as usual my chili garnered raves and recipe requests.

I cannot believe Christmas is less than a week away. I’ve done no shopping, which you know for me is unusual. I’m taking Friday off, since it’s my birthday, and then the Monday after Christmas, and hope to have some of that time to myself and to write.

There are photos to be added to the blog, but there never seems time to download and sort through them. I’m looking forward to that as well.

What a Nice Surprise

Yesterday afternoon while Doug and Frank were out “dirt-biking,” and Beckett and I were decorating the house with Christmas stuff (that’s what happens when you have a six-year-old, they wake up the day after Thanksgiving and want the house decorated for Christmas . . . actually they want it to be Christmas), and a strange, as in unknown, car pulled in the driveway. Out comes Uncle Andy!! He and a friend drove up from San Diego, where he was visiting her family for Thanksgiving, and rode by our house, thinking that we were in Colorado for the weekend. We weren’t, so they stopped.

Doug and Frank got home about twenty minutes later, we chatted for awhile and then called Sean the babysitter, who was over in a flash, and the four of us got to go out for an enjoyable adult dinner. What a nice surprise.

Quiet Thanksgiving

We had a quiet, but very nice Thanksgiving this year. It was just Doug, the boys, my mom and I. It kind of snuck up on me this year. I didn’t get my turkey until Tuesday!!

I had CJ call Trader Joes to see if they had any “non-frozen” turkeys. The guy on the phone said they had some that were ”$9.99, no matter how much they weigh,” and they had “a ton of them.” Fifteen minutes later when I arrived at Trader Joes and asked where the turkeys were, I was told they had sold out of the $9.99 turkeys “days ago.” Naturally I recounted the telephone call from only a short time earlier, and the manager kindly gave me one of the “other” turkeys at the advertised price.

Throughout the week, CJ, Frank and Beck did Thanksgiving crafts, one of which was making turkey napkin rings out of construction paper. They were great! And we used them! And boy, was Frank proud.

Yesterday (Thanksgiving) morning I got up at 7:00, got everything going, and we ate at 3:00. And it was pretty much as simple as that, and I’m not sure why. It just sorta fell together. It was, of course, Frank’s best Thanksgiving ever, he said.

Janel’s Baby Shower

Today was Janel’s baby shower. It was a nice event I think. Although it was VERY weird to have that many people in my house that I didn’t know. They got lots and lots and lots of stuff, mainly clothes, and washclothes, two things they DEFINITELY don’t need more of. I’m sure they’ll be able to exchange some of it for stuff they really do need.

I put together a book for Janel, it has baby photos of her, baby photos of CJ, wedding and reception photos, baby shower stuff, and recipes, poems, quotes and other words of wisdom from her friends and family. I hope she liked it.

While the shower was taking place, CJ and Doug took the boys to the beach. Yes, it’s November, and they went to the beach, swimming at the beach. That’s California for ya.

Biker Boy

Frank is getting so good at riding his bike. Well, it’s much more complicated than that, but I’m not certain how else to say it. I feel like a great-great-grandma. “Oh sweetie, you’re so good at riding your bike.” As Frank rolls his eyes . . .

Once Upon a Family

We had the first gathering tonight of our Live, Laugh, Love Club through Once Upon a Family. I think it’s going to be great. We’ve got a group of seven-ish. Tonight our family value to focus on was patience. The monthly family tradition we worked on was a variation on an advent calendar. Rather than twenty-four days of candy, this calendar would be twenty-four days of holiday-related activities we could do with our families. And yes, I came up with twenty-four.

Jill is our leader, and she’s also doing the Once Upon a Family sales consultant thing, although I’m SURE they don’t call it that. She’ll be great at it. She’s one of those people who has absolutely adorable perfect scrapbooks for each of her children, who makes her kids’ Halloween costumes, who bakes twenty kinds of cookies for Christmas and gives her friends gift boxes of them. Yep, she’s a Once Upon a Family kinda girl. Thank God she brings us along with her.

Principal for a Day

Today Frank was principal for a day at his school. He arrived at his office early to pick up his badge, whistle, and walkie-talkie and then started his morning by greeting kids and parents as they arrived at school.

Mrs. Andrich has an extensive hat collection and every morning she is out by the parking lot, with a big smile and a funny hat. Frank had his choice of wearing one of hers or taking his own. He chose one of his own: a jesters hat that Grandma and Grandpa brought him from Italy. It’s a great hat.




After morning greetings, Frank and Mrs. Andrich visited different classrooms and Frank was introduced as principal. The older kids were asking him to 1) make Wednesdays “free” ice cream days, and 2) get rid of the uniform policy. He was quick to say no to both so the teachers all thought he’d make a pretty good principal.




He led the pledge of allegiance in the courtyard, and the pledge to the cross. Wednesdays are chapel days and each week Mrs. Andrich picks different class to sit with, and Frank went with her.

Next up was lunch, and Frank sent his secretary, Miss Sharon, out to pick up lunch for him, from Taco Bell. He got a little frustrated at the end of lunchtime recess because the kids weren’t listening to him when he told them to put the balls away, but Mrs. Andrich assured him that they didn’t listen to her either, so not to get upset about it.

After lunch, it was time for a fire drill. Mrs. Andrich helped him set the alarm, which is a pretty complicated process. Frank then helped to check bathrooms to make sure no kids were in there and missing the alarm (although it would not be possible for ANYONE to miss the sound of this alarm going off, it is one of the most unpleasant and loud noises I’ve ever heard). He and Mrs. Andrich continued on checking to make sure classroom doors with securely closed and then checked to make sure all teachers and classes were in attendance out on the field.

At the end of the drill, he asked all of the teachers to come forward. He gave a report on the success of the drill (meaning he listened while Mrs. Andrich gave a report on the success of the drill), and then told each of the teachers he was giving them a raise, and one-by-one thanked them and handed them a $100,000 Grand candy bar. The teachers got a big kick out of it and Frank was a popular kid.

As he headed back to his office he found Mr. Miguel, the school caretaker, and gave him a raise; the school and church secretaries and gave them a raise; the preschool director and pastors, and gave them a raise too.

Then it was off to the parking lot for afternoon duty. As the cars were leaving the parking lot, almost all of them stopped so the kids could “introduce” their parents to Principal Buchman. Eighth graders to kindergarteners made fuss over him, and all in a good way.

The best part: my little first-grader’s self-esteem skyrocketed that day. Which is worth it’s weight in gold to his mom.

PS. My friend Chris told me a story this afternoon. It seems her daughter, one of Frank’s best friends, came home and said Frank was different today. My first thought was that she would say he was bratty, or mean, or stuck-up, or something else that would take the wind out of my sails or rain on my parade of happy-parenting-moments. I should’ve known better with Chris, she would never tell me something that would do that.

Anyway, Chris went on to ask her how Frank was different. She hesitated a little bit, and then said, “He was . . . sexy.” WHAT??? Chris and I would both pay anything to be able to crawl into her daughter’s head and find out what she thinks “sexy” is! It was a hoot, and the perfect story to finish out a perfect day.

Biking in O'Neill Park

Another family day of adventure. This time we went to O’Neill Park. Doug managed to pack our bikes and the little bike trailer for Beckett all in the back of the Suburban. We rode and rode and rode our bikes. Beckett had fun in his trailer, for the first time I think. We saw horses and lots of dogs, and lots of Harleys too.

The End of Soccer

Today was the last day of soccer. After two years of soccer, Doug and I have decided that it is NOT Frank’s sport. He’s not that crazy about going after a ball when ten other guys are going after the same ball and there’s lots of kicking going on. He’s also not crazy about getting hit with the ball when he is in the unlucky spot of being directly in front of it. So he tries to stay as far away from it as he can. Not a great soccer strategy.

It was fun that he got to play on a team with Tyler for one more year, and we’re hoping the two are on the same baseball team again this season, but the truth is that Tyler and Frank have grown apart and really don’t seem to hang out much anymore. Tyler is much more serious than Frank is. Frank grew out of his seriousness and is now pretty silly.

As a mom, who grew up much too fast herself, I’ll take silly over serious any day. I was way too serious. Still am. There’s no fun in that. When I was ten, I wanted to be thirty. Looking back, I wish I would’ve enjoyed childhood more while I was in it. I definitely want Frank and Beck to take full advantage of being kids and enjoying every minute of it.

After the game there was the usual end of season party. Unfortunately AYSO for this region is really unorganized, which is putting it lightly. They didn’t have the trophies ordered in time for the end of the season. So some time the kids are supposed to get trophies. We’ll see.

After pizza, Doug made a right instead of a left out of the parking lot. Right would’ve taken us home. Left took us to sushi. It was a treat and a blast. Sometimes things just work. And it did.

Mt. Baldy

Andrea stayed clean. Frank played soccer better than ever since he was trying to show off for her. After the game, we went to Mount Baldy for a family day of hiking and playing.
First stop was the ranger station where they have a nice little play area complete with tipis and other historical structures from the area. We thought maybe we’d get a family photo for this year’s Christmas card, but that is never easy.
Up we went for a nice hike in Icehouse Canyon. The stream had enough water running in it to be beautiful, and there were waterfalls here and there.

Hiking with Beckett is a challenge. We took off-shoot trails down by the stream, but Beckett wanted to go IN the stream. The hike lasted about an hour, and we probably went about a quarter of a mile. The purpose of a hike with little boys is more for the experience in general than it is for exercise or having a goal of getting somewhere.

We went into the little town of Mount Baldy for some lunch. I don’t remember the name of the restaurant, but that’s okay because I don’t have anything positive to say about it.

THEN we went fishing. At the trout farm. It was inexpensive compared to Irvine Lake, so we decided to give it a shot. It was high time Beckett caught his first fish and at a trout farm we figured it would take about as long as Beckett’s attention span to do it. We were wrong. The fish weren’t hungry. After about forty-five minutes, Frank caught a fish.
Determined that Beck should catch a fish too, I kept plugging away at it. By the time I actually caught a fish, Beckett was on the other side of the trout farm with Doug. He was trying to scoop the fish out of the water with a large net. I’m sure the guys in the trout farm office were thrilled with us. We took our two fish up to the counter and got them packed in ice. I think the total came to about $1.75, which tells you how small they were. That is if you’ve ever been to a trout farm. The guys in front of us managed to catch about six fish. They were bigger fish, by far. Their total came to a little over $100. We were happy with our two little fish, especially since I had no intention of cooking them.

Once home, Frank had a grand time doing all kinds of scientific experiments with the fish. He named them, he played with them. And I tried my best to pretend as though none of it was happening. Doug thought it was hysterical. I thought it was gross. Since I am outnumbered in this household, three to one, I kept my mouth shut and my distance from the fish. I’m just glad I didn’t discover it later that night under my sheets or something else equally as disgusting.

I’m the one who said I was happy I had two boys instead of girls and I’m sticking by it.

Just Make Sure She Keeps Her Shoes On

Our dear friends the Shammases were in town tonight. Andrea came over to hang out with Frank, Beck and Sean the babysitter, while the adults went out for a grown-up dinner. We always enjoy their company, and miss them very much. They keep encouraging us to come up and stay at the Fairmont. We should do it, and probably will eventually, more to see them than anything else. Double incentive is that Andy, Doug’s brother, lives in San Francisco too, and we never see him often enough either.

Andrea spent the night with Frank, which means Frank had his first official sleepover. And it was with a girl. She slept on the top bunk (I think she’s braver than he is). Quentin, Frank’s cousin, has spent the night, but Quentin’s Daddy, Uncle Jeff, stayed too. So that wasn’t really an official sleepover. I guess it was, but it’s different when someone sleeps over without their parents.

Tomorrow morning Frank has an early soccer game and Andrea will go with us, in her dress she is wearing to a wedding at 10:00am. David and Leslie are picking her up at the soccer field. I have to make sure she remains free of grass stains for the half-hour she is on the soccer field with us. Leslie told me to just make sure she keeps her shoes on. Oh great. The only person I’ve ever met who is as much of an organizational-neatnik-anal-retentive-freak as I am is David Shammas. And I’ve got to make sure his daughter stays clean and beautiful for a wedding. She and I may just sit in the car, or better yet, stay at home.

Milkshake Madness

This is what happens when Beckett gets a hold of Frank’s oreo milkshake from the Date Shake Shack in Laguna Beach.

My Horrorscope

My horoscope today says:

If you're feeling bored, stuck in a rut or held up by circumstances beyond your control, hang tough. It's understandable for you to feel like this, but soon, you'll be feeling like you've suddenly turned into a magnet for admirers who are just as responsible, intense and focused as you are. Treat yourself. Take in a show or call a loved one and make a date. You won't want to be alone.

Ummm . . . okay. At least I have some justification for feeling bored, stuck in a rut and held up by circumstances beyond my control.

Halloween

As we were walking between two houses Frank said, “Mom, this is my best Halloween ever.” Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that Frank says stuff like that frequently. Everything is his best EVER. This time, I agree with him. This year Beckett was able to go trick-or-treating with Frank and it was beyond fun. It took Beck a few houses to get the hang of it. Initially he wanted to hold on to the candy he got, but realized that he couldn’t keep collecting it in his hands which must be why mom was carrying that bucket. He would still hold on to each piece of candy until it was time to approach the front door of the next house—and then he would hang on to one piece, which he would drop as he was given more.

Frank was the “scream” character, complete with blood that ran down his face, which he thought was the coolest and scariest costume ever. Many people agreed with the scary part. Beckett was a cowboy. As I said before, I lost control of Frank’s costume choices after he was three. Beckett I still have final say over, and he looked adorable. I will never forget the mental picture of Beckett running down the sidewalk with his little boots and chaps on, cowboy hat teetering on his head and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

We went to all of the houses on our street and one of the side streets and then went over to the fairgrounds for the Hullabaloo. We were supposed to meet up with friends there, but that didn’t work out. We stayed for about a half an hour, but it was VERY crowded and very loud and Frank wanted to go home. It was close to 8:00 when we left which is past the boys’ bedtime anyway and we were all ready to end the night.

I am thankful often that Frank has a brother to share things with, that is especially true of Halloween. I always felt a little sad that he either had to go trick-or-treating by himself, or we had to skip our own neighborhood in order for him to go with friends. We did that three years in a row. One of the years he fell asleep on the way home so didn’t get to go to a single house in our neighborhood. The next morning when he woke up he was really mad, and I felt like shit. But whaddaya do?

Problem solved. Have another kid. Life is complete.

Focus on the Family

I got a call today from Focus on the Family saying they are considering me for the Senior Creative Director position and I should hear back from them within a couple of weeks. It wasn’t clear as to how many other people were being considered or where they were in the weeding-through process.

At least I got a phone call, at least it’s still a possibility. Cross fingers. Pray. A lot.

We had a good day today. I got up early, not unusual, and had some time to myself. Frank was next and we had about forty-five minutes to ourselves, which was really nice. Then Beck. I made the boys breakfast and then made breakfast for Doug and I, and then Doug got up. It was good that he slept in. We decided to go to San Pedro to get more school shirts for Frank, but found the uniform place is closed on Sundays. So . . .

We went to the RV show in Pomona. It was great fun because we picked out something we could really afford. At one point I said I had been worried about all the money we are spending in our minds to get toys when we move, and Doug said, “But then we wouldn’t have money to start the store.” My knees went weak. I adore this man.

I was watching Inside the Actor’s Studio a little while ago. Great show, loved it for years. Tonight’s guest was Rosie O’Donnell. At one point she said something about forging ahead as long as whatever it is you’re working toward is something you know you have to do. Not something you think you want to do, but know you have to do. I feel that way about the store. I’ve felt that way for ten years. I have to do it.

People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don’t believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them.
—George Bernard Shaw

Twelve Days

How is it possible that CJ and Janel are getting married in twelve days? Wasn’t it yesterday that they told me they were having a baby? Wasn’t it yesterday that Janel asked me if she was engaged, and then CJ proposed to her?

My boys have their little suits that they will wear at the wedding, the suits that match CJ’s suit exactly. On their feet they will wear black converse hightops and everyone will say how absolutely adorable they are, and sweet.

Twelve days from now I will watch CJ and Janel say their vows to one another and I will cry. My tears will be of joy and pride, and I will do my best to remember that their mothers are there, and that I am not their mother. But in my heart I know I will feel as much love and pride and happiness for them as if I were.

I’ll cry when they have their first dance as husband and wife, and I will remember the fun we had as they listened to songs and picked out their music. I’ll cry when Janel dances with her father, and CJ dances with his mother, knowing how much each of their parents did for them for this wedding, and I’ll cry when Janel dances with her grandfather and CJ dances with his grandmother and remember how important that was and is to them.

These days Doug and I are very happy, and very close. It has been fun for us to watch and help them plan this wedding day, and remember our own. We had so much fun, Doug and I. That day, that week, that month, that year are some of my best memories and I cherish them. I’m sure I will cherish the memories of these days as well.

Thunderstorms.

We’re having a thunderstorm tonight, they’re rare in Southern California. Beckett was asleep when it started, and he stayed that way. My kids both are Olympic-class sleepers.

Frank wasn’t asleep yet and came running into our bedroom where Doug and I were laying down, talking about our day—and him. He was frightened as he often is by new or different things. He said he was scared and wanted to cuddle with us. We turned off the light, opened the blind to the big window in the bedroom and all waited for the next flash of lightning. It came, and then we all counted the seconds until the sound of thunder. It was five seconds. And then we waited for the next, and counted, and the next, and counted. The waiting and counting took Frank’s mind off his fear. Although when he counted twelve seconds between lightning and thunder he said he was so relieved that it was moving further away. And then he asked me what relieved meant.

I explained that relieved was how I felt this morning after forty-five minutes of increasing worry when I couldn’t find my wedding ring, and then did—under Beckett’s crib. I forget that I have to watch Beckett in ways I never did with Frank.

Frank understood relieved, and was probably more so knowing he had used the word correctly.

I hugged him and kissed his forehead, rolled over to find a position where my ribs didn’t ache. I found one and drifted off to sleep. I woke up to see Doug carrying Frank, sound asleep too, off to bed.

I thank God for the comfort of my family, for myself and for Frank. My childhood was mixed. There were times of great comfort and there were times when as a frightened child I had no one interested in providing any comfort to me. I vowed things would be different for my children and they are.

I feel good about the way Doug and I parent our children. I am proud that Frank is secure enough to act the way he does sometimes, and it isn’t necessarily behavior I approve of. What makes me proud and gives me comfort, is that Frank knows that no matter how silly or crazy or naughty or even how far he crosses the line of inappropriate behavior, he knows that Doug and I still love him. He looks at me, right into my eyes, studies my reaction, waits for my response. There are times I give him a little frown, he takes a quick breath and then I wink. His face breaks into a huge smile and he says, “Sorry Mama,” and continues to grin. He knows whatever he did, he probably shouldn’t have. But he also knows that I love him anyway.

I thank God for that—for giving me my children to love.

Back to School

Tomorrow is Frank’s first day in first grade. I’ve had many telephone conversations with friends who are soooo anxious for their kids to go back to school. I am not among them. I am filled with regret about all we didn’t do this summer. I didn’t schedule my time wisely, I spent too much time working and not enough time playing, days went by too quickly and so did weeks. My children are growing up too fast and I’m not spending enough time playing with them.

Frank somehow didn’t get placed on a soccer team. I’m looking at this as an omen. He is meant to be a tennis player, not a soccer player. After school we’ll do one day of tennis lessons and one day of swim lessons instead of two days of soccer practice. Saturdays will be spent playing as a family rather than watching him play soccer.

Broken Promises

I don't understand how people can make "promises" and break them, especially with children. As a parent, it is so hard to explain to a child that although a person loves them and didn't mean to disappoint them, they were unable to keep their promise. No matter how insignificant it may seem in the life of an adult, a promise is not insignificant to a six-year-old, or to the parent who has to dry tears and find a way to make sure the six-year-old still loves, admires and trusts the promise-breaker. Ugh.

I think the words, "I promise," are simply thrown around far too irresponsibly. The solution is so simple, DON'T PROMISE! Whenever Frank asks about something I say that we'll try, or we'll think about it, or talk about it, or do our best, or something, but I don't promise unless it's worthy of those words, and then it has to be something I can almost guarantee will happen barring unforeseen emergencies, like falling off a ladder (although I don't think I promised him anything that day and if I did, I'm sure he forgave me for breaking the promise.)

I've heard Frank say to Doug, "Do you promise?" and Doug says, "No Frank, I don't promise, but I will do my best to . . . " And then Doug does his best to make whatever it is happen.

Okay, so here's another thing. Doug went to Nascar on Sunday. Janel babysat me (and Frank and Beck and CJ's little sister, Madison), and then CJ came over later. We had hot dogs for dinner. As I was preparing my hot dog, I realized how much I count on Doug. Terrible that it was cooking that made me think of it, but regardless, I thought of it. There is so much that Doug does here, so many ways that we are a team. There are the things he always does, and then there are the things I always do. I know I can count on him to do his stuff, and vice versa. It's nice. We're a team, and a family, we have a partnership. He's dependable and steadfast. Probably something I don't acknowledge or thank him for, but definitely should.

Comin' Around Again

I'm starting to feel like myself again. I would say, "finally," instinctively, but honestly I don't feel that way. I'm surprised I feel this good already. I'm doing everything I usually do, only less of it, with the exception of picking up Beckett, which is breaking my heart, and driving, which I'm getting ready to think about doing. I tried getting in the car and turning the wheel the other day, but it hurt so I thought it might be better to wait another few days to try again.

I cannot believe it's time for Frank to go back to school already. Wednesday he starts back. I'm excited about his year this year. He's in a combined class, and he will have Mrs. Kelley as his main teacher, and Mrs. Deloye as her aide. Mrs. Kelley was his kindergarten teacher last year, and Mrs. Deloye is a retired kindergarten teacher. Mrs. Kelley handpicked the kids in the class so he will be with his buddies Andie, Carley and Josh. Mrs. Kelley has taught many different grade levels and is more than well-equipped for the task she is about to undertake. The best part is the ratio of his class to teachers is 9:1. What more could a parent ask for?

Doug is going to Nascar today with John Piovesan, I'm very glad he's taking some time for himself, he never does that.

There are no words

. . . to express the sadness I feel each and every time I watch the news. I cannot fathom the horrors being endured by people in Louisianna and Mississippi. I cannot allow myself to think how I would feel if I was separated from Frank, Beck and Doug. I cannot allow myself to think how I would feel if I could not give my children water to drink. My heart breaks for every single parent and child I see.

Marc Broussard

Broken ribs and all, we saw Marc Broussard last night. Brandi Carlile opened for him. Fantastic, both of them. We sat in the VIP section and I stayed in the wheelchair (less chance of someone bumping into me). Marc Broussard is unbelievably good. Ironic that all of them are from New Orleans. I don't think I would have had the fortitude to be able to perform last night, not having any idea what was happening to their homes and families.

A Little Accident

I had a little accident last week. A fall actually. I decided it was time to put all of the camping gear away, most of it was already, but there were a few things left to go in the loft in the garage. CJ was helping me, Frank was playing in the garage. I climbed up the ladder and CJ was handing things to me to put away. We were close to finished when suddenly the ladder seemed to shift, and I fell to the floor of the garage.

It is painful to write about, but I'm hoping that by writing about it, it will start to become a more distant memory rather than one I relive hourly.

The fall itself seemed to go in slow motion for me, the way those things seem to. As I was falling all I could think was that I was falling too far to live through it. Then when my body hit, I was certain my back or neck would be broken. Then my head hit the floor. Amazingly, I didn't lose consciousness. I could move my legs and arms, but I couldn't breath and the pain in my back, behind my lungs was excrutiating. CJ called 911 and I could hear the sirens it seemed only a minute later. I think CJ was trying to calm Frank, although I don't remember much from this time, only the pain and that I couldn't catch my breath.

The paramedics put me on a backboard and put a neck brace on, then took me to Hoag Hospital. The ride was again excrutiating, the pain almost unbearable. They tried to start an IV, but I don't have and never had any decent veins. I did appreciate their effort to give me some pain medication.

Minutes later I was at Hoag and the doctor was checking me over. All the signs were positive, legs and arms still moved and had feeling, I knew where I was, etc. They again tried to start an IV, and failing to do so gave me morphine via a shot in the arm. Doug arrived then, which is when I fell apart. Now that my rock was with me, I could admit how frightened I was, no more need to be strong, I could let my guard down and depend on him to help me through it.

They took me to x-ray and somehow were able to take some. They moved me minimally, which I appreciated greatly. Back to the ER to wait for the results.

The doctor came and told me that I had broken some ribs, but everything else seemed okay. He warned me that broken ribs were very painful, and there wasn't much to do other than rest and let them heal. Evidently it isn't good for the lungs to tape the ribs, so basically they just heal on their own, in four to six weeks.

I think they gave me another shot for the pain, and told me I could go home. Again, I don't remember much. It seemed like when we pulled in the yard, CJ had mowed the lawn. I think he had to do something physical in order to burn off some of the stress of what had happened. Janel was there, she had left work to come down and help the minute CJ called her to tell her what happened. She stayed to help me get settled and then went back to work.

I remember getting settled on the couch, I don't remember much else other than sleeping on and off.

I know they kept Beckett away from me. He is used to climbing all over me, which wouldn't have been a good thing. Frank came and told me how scared he had been. He saw me fall. It must've been awful for him. He told me he had to run into the house, and he told me he had cried. I told him both of those things were the right things to do and that he was very brave.

It's been a few days since it happened. Each day I feel better than the day before. Each day I try to do more and more on my own. Doug, CJ and Janel have all been wonderful. Friends have come by to bring dinners (and cookies, lots and lots of cookies), and have sent flowers and called and emailed.

I tell everyone who calls the same thing: I have no complaints. I am thankful to be alive, and I am thankful that in a couple of weeks, I will heal and I will feel better and most importantly I will be able to walk and play with my kids, and see their beautiful smiles every day. At that's all that really matters. I'm still here. I thank God for that.

I doubt very much that I'll ever get on a ladder again in my lifetime, and I probably won't be very comfortable when anyone else is on one.

Doug told me a couple of days ago, when we were alone, that on that particular morning, he put on his wedding ring at the last minute before he went to work. He rarely wears his wedding ring, and not usually ever to work. I don't recall a time he ever has worn it to work actually. His voice was quiet when he told me. Doug isn't one to be superstitious, or give much to coicidence, but this fact seemed to shake him. The only thing he said after that was that he'd never do it again.

Gavin DeGraw

Had a great time last night with Elaine, Janel and CJ when we went to see Gavin DeGraw. We started with dinner at Vida, which although not as trendy as it used to seem, was fantastic as far as the food, drink and service.

Quick drive from there to the Greek, saw Gavin open for Avril Lavigne, made CJ ask some guy where he worked because I swore I knew him. Ended up having a conversation with him, both looked familiar to each other, but couldn't place where from. Oh, Gavin DeGraw's performance was as outstanding as always. Sat through the first then minutes of Avril Lavigne, which was as much as I could stand. All of us were in agreement that we had no interest in staying, so we left.

Too early to go home, so we went to the Dresden to see Marty and Elayne. Throwback to old times for Elaine and I. In fact, Elaine and I spent much of the evening reminiscing about our single days. It was fun to relive, didn't stay long, but it was a nice way to end the evening.

Mammoth Updates and Photos

Each of the Mammoth posts have been updated with photos. Please see below, and take another look if you've already read them.

Mammoth 2005 (Continued)

Monday afternoon to Tuesday afternoon

Doug, CJ and Frank come back to the cabin and report that all three caught a fish, but all three were too small to keep. This is documented by photos with the digital camera this time.







































We have lunch and evidently Doug and CJ have an attack of guilty consciences. Now that they’ve REALLY caught a fish, they can confess that yesterday, when they SAID they each caught a fish, it was really a DEAD fish that they took out of the water, put on a hook and then took turns taking a photos. Wow. That was some overwhelming desire to prove they could really catch fish. Didn’t want to look bad for Frank. Didn’t want Frank to think they couldn’t catch a fish. How funny. (What's funnier are the photos. We got the disposable camera developed after we got home. These are the photos of them catching the dead fish. No these don't look staged at all. I think I would've known even if they hadn't told me.)



























After the lunchtime confession, we decide to go over to Rock Creek and explore and fish. It’s such a beautiful place. We enjoy the afternoon very much. I don’t think anyone caught anymore fish, but it didn’t really matter. Rain, thunder and lightening come and we go back to the cabin.

After dinner of hot dogs (and onions for CJ and Doug), we pack everything up so Tuesday morning’s departure is quick and easy. Later, after Frank and Beck are asleep, Doug and CJ break into the tequila (we wouldn’t have wanted to bring it all that way and not drink any of it). We talk about how great the trip has been, and how none of us are ready to go home. If Doug didn’t have a regular job, where he has to report to someone, we might’ve extended our stay. We talk about more camping trips, and other stuff we can all do together once CJ and Janel’s baby is born. They will join the ranks of people with kids as opposed to kids themselves, their social lives will change greatly. Mainly because they will want it to. There are plenty of parents whose social life doesn’t change at all, but I think CJ and Janel will make the needs of their baby a priority and live a reasonably traditional family lifestyle. By the amount of time they spend with us, it seems as though that is what they crave anyway.

Beck is up at 5:00am and so am I. We get the last minute stuff ready to go, wake Frank, Doug and CJ, and we all pile in the Suburban for the ride home. We drop the keys off at the store and get on the road. We stop at Tom’s Place for coffee and agree to have breakfast in Lone Pine. Doug starts making jokes that I have some cowboy connections in Lone Pine and that’s why I want to eat there. Hmmm, I think CJ may be in trouble.

I drive as far as the Mt. Whitney Fish Hatchery, where we stop to let Beck have some fun. He does. It’s a beautiful hatchery, built in 1916, and very kid-friendly.


Doug drives us into Lone Pine, we have breakfast and the continue on with our cranky drive home. Everyone is cranky; tired, hot, don’t want to be going home, don’t want to sit in the car for six hours, etc.

We make it home by 1:30. Doug and CJ unload the truck and I start the process of unpacking and doing laundry. I give CJ Wednesday off. He was getting impatient with the boys on the ride home so I figure he needs a break from them for at least twenty-four hours. I also think CJ and I could use a twenty-four hour break ourselves. It’s good to sleep in my own bed. It’s better to have Beck asleep in his own. I finally get a good night’s sleep, the first in seven days.

Mammoth 2005 (Continued)

Thursday afernoon to Monday morning.

The tent erect, finally—and the campsite officially set up, we venture out in search of fish. We walk through the campsite, past the second lake through the woods, over near a stream, and the boys fish. They don’t catch anything, but get very wet.

Our first night we decide to grill steak, but the steak is still frozen and we have chili instead. Doug cooks the chili, which burns to the bottom of one of three of our pots. We consider throwing the pot away, but let it soak on the table overnight. After chili we have s’mores. Frank goes to bed, still not feeling himself. And then I go into the tent with Beckett to try to get him to sleep.

He is adorable. Babbling. Smiling. Giving me lots of kisses. He turns over, his back to me and projectile vomits all over the sheet, the sleeping bag, the air mattress, his monkey, the tent—everywhere and everything. It’s mainly milk. I cry for help and CJ and Doug come running to get it all out of the tent as I hold Beckett who is crying and shaking.

We get cleaned up, and I get Beck calmed down and finally both of us go to sleep. The air mattress isn’t holding air and I’m forever rolling downhill trying to keep him from falling off into the crevice between mattress and tent. Not much sleep.

Suddenly I hear a very loud banging. And then an airhorn, and lights flashing. I wake Doug. “What is that?” “What?” he says. More banging. “That.” And then a car alarm, it sounds like ours. He gets up and looks out. “What is it?” I ask. “Is it a bear?” Yes, it’s a bear, in the campsite right next to ours, trying to get into storage boxes they’ve left on the picnic table. There are several children at that campsite and the parents are trying to get them to calm down and stop blowing the airhorn. The spotlights scare the bear away, but not before I get a good look at it.

Later it happens again. This time Doug goes out to get a better look. I think maybe he’s taking photos. The spotlights again scare it away. I hear the next day that there were two bears that time.

Now I’m sick. Same stomach flu as Frank and Beck. Doug goes outside with me because I’m frightened from the bear.

The next morning I get up with the sun and find the bear had been through our campsite as well. Our small, red, soft-sided cooler which had only had bottles of beer in it, had inadvertently been left outside and the bottom is ripped out of it. The chili pan which had been soaking is upside down on ground, and the table is a muddy mess. I clean up, light the stove, make some coffee. Doug and CJ are soon gone at the dock to find fish.

I have an hour alone to start making breakfast. We have potatoes, bacon and eggs, and coffee. Beck and Frank are up. Beck seems to be feeling fine. Frank is still under the weather.

We go to town for more firewood, water and beer. And to find a laundry. I find a brochure for a spa and decide to have a massage. Doug goes to get tickets for the Brewfest and finds it is really on Saturday, not Friday as he thought. I schedule the massage for late in the day and we go exploring while someone does our laundry for us.

We go back to the campsite and I take a nap. The boys go fishing and come back in time to wake me up to go have my massage. They’ve decided to go back to town with me and drop me off at the athletic club—they’re bored.

I go in and have a wonderful shower and steam, followed by a great massage, and then another shower and steam. If you’re in Mammoth, I encourage you to visit the Snowcreek Athletic Club and get a massage from Jacqueline. She’s really good and I don’t give that kind of praise easily—I’ve had a lot of massages, and for them to be really good, they have to be really good.

The boys pick me up and we pick up the laundry. We head back to camp for steaks and potato salad. It’s late and the boys and I go to bed. The campsite is more secure tonight, everything is put away. CJ and Doug make a plan to communicate via the walkie-talkies if either hear a bear, and also have some sort of weapon posted at the entrance to each tent. They’ve got a plan to protect the kids, and me too I guess.

The sun rises again. No bears last night. I think all the boys were disappointed. I wasn’t.

Breakfast today is cereal because we are in a hurry to go and fish before the Brewfest. We head to Convict Lake and fish off the shore for a few hours. I learn to cast, thanks to the patient and kind couple on the shore next to us. Doug is a great teacher, only not with is his wife. He is impatient when I can’t do it right away, and I think embarrassed. He is critical of me and a perfectionist. I don’t give up and finally get it. I don’t get any fish, but neither does anyone else.

We head back to Mammoth and to the Bluesapooloza. We are lucky to find a spot to sit. We sample lots of beer and lots of food, and all enjoy our afternoon immensely.








































Afterward none of us are in the mood to cook and we head to Roberto’s for margaritas and Mexican food. The wait is long and we are all very tired after dinner.

We get back to camp and it has rained. And Beck throws up again. The tent is like a sauna and I’ve got to clean up from the rain, clean up from Beck. Finally Beck and I go to sleep. Doug wakes me when he comes in. He tells me that rather than camping tomorrow at Rock Creek, he thinks we should get a cabin. I agree and am overjoyed.

We have pancakes and sausage for breakfast the next morning. Beck sleeps late, but just as we’re about to eat, Frank wakes him and then Beck gets sick again. Later he seems to feel okay as we pack up to head out.

We drive to Rock Creek and stop at the lodge. They don’t have any cabins, but the place down the road has one left. It’s beautiful and perfect. It has a bathroom with a shower. And beds.























































I move us in while Doug and CJ go in search of fish. It is the fourth day of our camping trip and still no fish, not even a nibble. They are very happy that I’ve agreed to watch the boys so they can get serious about catching dinner. The boys and I have fun and play in the cabin. Beck takes a nap and Frank and I play cards. He makes up games I don’t understand, and he wins.

Doug and CJ come back saying they each caught one fish, but both were too small to keep. They say they took photos with the disposable camera. Beckett wakes up and is very hot. Too hot. I’m worried. I realize the hospital in Mammoth is forty minutes away, but I’m taking him there. Doug drives, we get to the ER and Beck’s fever is 103, worse his heart rate is 197. They give him a tylenol suppository and then an IV. A few hours and many tears later, his fever his down and so is his heart rate. The staff at the Mammoth ER is bored in the summer. No broken legs or arms or other skiing accidents. We are the only ones there. We make lots of friends. They love our boys’ names. We overhear lots of conversations about it. They get us dinner, and then coffee. At midnight we are happy to be able to leave. I think the nurses are sad to see us go, but happy, of course, that Beck is better.

Monday morning we have bacon and eggs and toast (the cabin has a toaster!) I go down to the store to exchange towels and get pie. Pie in the sky. It isn’t overrated, it is fantastic.

Doug, CJ and Frank go for a hike, while I keep watch over Beck and give him lots of clear fluids.

Mammoth Lakes 2005

Wednesday night to Thursday morning.

Doug got home from work a little late, but we were in the driveway ready to go. He had warned me he might be tired and would want me to drive maybe as far as Barstow. (Um, I suppose it would be bad form for me to go into the number of hours I had to work and the sleep I didn’t get in order to be able to go on this trip, and that while I wasn’t sleeping, some other adult in this house was sleeping? Yes, that would be bad form.) So although tired, I drove as far as Barstow. But first, we ate fast food. Yes, we ate fast food. In the car. While driving. Frank was in heaven.

The traffic wasn’t bad and we got to Highway 15 pretty quickly it seemed. Then, although there wasn’t any traffic, the drive got really, really long. Anyone reading this who has driven 395 to Bishop knows exactly what I’m talking about. I drove until the turnoff for Barstow, and then Doug took over. Fortunately CJ stayed awake (although in the back seat), because I fell asleep. I could hear them talking and think every so often I added something incoherent to the conversation, and then Doug woke me up when we got to Bishop. He got two rooms at the Outdoorsman Motor Lodge, and Frank stayed with CJ. Beckett slept with me, of course, in one of the two queen beds in our room. I should say Beckett eventually slept with me. First he tossed, and turned, and then tossed and turned some more, and tried for at least a couple of hours to find a position he was comfortable in. Just when we both drifted off (it seemed like only seconds later), Beck fell out of bed. Bad mom, fell asleep, Beck not secured. This drifting in and out, readjusting Beck away from the edge of the bed, turning him around so his head rather than feet were on the pillow, or on my shoulder, went on all the short night long.

Finally day dawned and I could put an end to the maddening quest for real sleep, and just get up. Doug went to wake CJ and Frank. He came back a few minutes later to report that Frank had the stomach flu, had been vomiting all night, and was resting in the bath trying to feel better. Oh great, the stomach flu. We’re on our way to a campground. To camp in tents. Starting off superbly.

We rally and decide to walk a couple of doors down to Schat’s (bakery), for some breakfast. They don’t have breakfast, they just have baked goods. And orange juice. We choose some items from the bakery, and some orange juice and a couple of coffees. $25.98. Yep, that’s right, three items from the bakery, three plastic containers of orange juice (the single serving kind), and two cups of coffee. Small cups. $25.98. Turns out the orange juice is spun from gold or something. $4.50 each. Each. Oh. Doug pays, we leave and the million dollar OJ becomes one of the jokes for the week.

All the boys play in the park while I check out, of the motel. We pile in the car to head to Twin Lakes. Frank throws up on the way. First two changes of clothing now covered in million dollar orange juice, in trash bags, to be washed in SIX DAYS when we get home. Yippee!

We take the turnoff to Mammoth Lakes and then a few miles later, the turnoff to Twin Lakes.


























We drive around the campground and find a site we like and it just so happens the people inhabiting it are packing up and heading home. We fill out our little white slip, put it on top of their orange slip, pay the campground host, and then wait as the previous tenants vacate.

The spot is perfect. We have a beautiful view of the lake, but it isn’t close enough that we have to be concerned about Beckett running and jumping in; the bathrooms are close, but not too close, and neither are the neighbors. We unpack and start setting up. Doug and I eventually realize that CJ is having trouble getting his tent up. So we join him, in having trouble getting his tent up. I would be willing to bet good money that all around that campground people were having a whole lot of fun watching the three of us trying to figure out how to get this tent up. There may even have been wagers as to how long it would take us. One woman did walk by and offer a couple of suggestions. I listened, but didn’t really care for the shit-eating grin she had on her face (really I think she was trying really, really hard not to burst out laughing). Bitch.

So we stop and call CJ’s dad. The cell phone coverage is spotty. It takes three or four phone calls to get a hint as to how to set this tent up. Three hours later (or so it seemed), we had an erect tent.

To be continued . . .