Miracles and Truths: First Posting of My Random Life Stories

Labor hurts. Ok, to say labor hurts is like saying pouring lemon juice in a paper cut stings a little. Labor is intense, painful, long and messy. There is liquids coming out of everywhere, drugs going in everywhere (because while I am all for women who choose natural birth, I will take what the 21^st century has to offer me so I do not feel the final pangs of my vagina being ripped in half) and every ten minutes, some random person comes in to check your progress by sticking their fingers in your no-no zone and calculating the centimeters. So, as stated, I opted for drugs to alleviate the pain, but I was lucky enough to feel some wonderful contractions before the nurse could bring me the life-saving narcotics.

“Here comes a BIG one!” my husband said enthusiastically in my ear. He was carefully monitoring the machine that was diligently tracking each arc and decline of the ever increasing contractions. If I had my wits completely about me and was not concentrating of making sure I would not poop during labor, I would have pointed out to him that I actually knew a BIG one was coming, and I didn’t need the help of the machine and its beeps, clicks and long printouts. Telling a women in labor that a “BIG one” is coming would be like telling a person a train was coming as they lay in the middle of the track relishing in the vibrations of the planks and listening to the panicked screams of the engine as it barreled towards them. Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Yes indeed, it was a big one. So big, that my husband felt the need to document it with a picture. He snapped a close up of the bell curve readout coming off the machine. Again, had I not been in fear that I would sully up the bed any more than I had, I would have asked him to save the photos until later. With that monstrous jolt to my uterus, I called again for the nurse to bring me some pain killers STAT. Five minutes late, she arrived with a syringe and my friend, synthetic morphine. Before administering the dose through my IV, she gave me a warning, “Now, some people tend to freak out a little bit. Just let it wash over you and breathe. If you feel like you are going to freak out, close your eyes and call for me.”

I didn’t realize we were doing LSD. I was about to ask exactly what was IN the synthetic morphine when she pushed the plunger and I felt the instant calm of a million gallons of NyQuil rush over my body. Everything felt, well, groovy. Pain stopped. My husband’s repeated “how far along is she?” and “I am bored” comments faded away. (Yes, he said bored…because I could actually rush the miracle of life. Did he think I was having a good time?) All I could hear was the monitors and the zen music I had brought from home. I tried to reach my water glass which was literally next to my arm. The drug made it seem like it was across the room, and the harder I tried to reach it, the shorter my arm became. Finally, after watching me for a bit, my husband asked if he could get me my water.

It’s important to note his attitude at this point; it will come back later in the tale.

FINALLY after 11 hours of being stuck at five centimeters and enough petosin to swell my ankles to the size of cantaloupes, the doctor announced that the baby was ready. GREAT! Bring on the epidural! The five inch needle didn’t scare me at all. When they came in and moved the covers so I could turn around, my husband observed that it was “quite gross under there.” Again, thank you for the information I was already privy to. One can tell when one is sitting in pungent ick, but my dear friend morphine told me to just not care.

Epidural in and legs sufficiently numb, I was ready. The entire pushing process was something I had completely psyched myself up for. It had been nearly a day since I had actually eaten anything. The sweat and soiled clothing was making me feel more like the lining of a New York City dumpster every second. The anticipation of seeing the alien I had carried for months was getting to be too much. I knew the faster I pushed, the faster I could shower, eat and hold my son. So, when the doctor said, “PUSH,” I forgot about my fear of laying a log on the lap of my OBGYN, and I pushed. Two more like it, and relief like I have never known overtook me.

They placed my son on my chest. He was covered in white goo and red blood. His little eyes tried to focus on me, but couldn’t. He was crying, but when they set him on my chest, she stopped immediately and just looked at me. I was overcome by love. Love for my newborn son, who I knew I would love until the end of time. Love for my husband who had gone through so much with me, and was here to share this moment. I began to weep from all the love in me.

My husband leaned into me. I lifted my face, expecting a kiss or a caress.  He opened his mouth and said with no hint of emotion, “You know I will never love you as much as I love my child.”

Taken literally a second after being told by my husband that
he would never love me as much as he loves our kids.

SNAP. The flare of the camera light faded as it captured the disbelief in my face. What did he say? Did I hear that right? Shouldn’t the correct sentence have been, “I have never loved you more than I do now,” or at least, “Thank you for giving me my son.” The labor, the determination, the rush of love on my part, it couldn’t be just one-sided. What did he mean?

The nurse picked my son off my chest and explained she was taking him to the pediatrician and to get cleaned up. My husband said he was going to go with so I could have some privacy. My doctor peeked up from between my legs and informed me I had a second degree tear and I was all stitched up. I had been totally unaware that he was down there. The shock of what my husband said, and then the exit from the room without so much as a kiss on the forehead had completely blocked out all the post-labor happenings.

I should have known then. I should have known a year earlier. I should have known right from the start. Our hearts tell us things that our heads want to believe. This experience was one of a hundred that should have told me with giant red flags that something wasn’t right. Hindsight is a bitch, and she only shows up after you have been through the trenches. You know how they say, “If I only knew then what I know now…”? Well, the questions is, would I have done any different? I loved my husband with all my heart; or at least I thought I did. I loved what I thought he was, and he loved what he thought I could provide for him.

Bottom line, I should have known he was gay. The signs were subtle and also bold. The last few months, it was so obvious that I worked extra hard to deny it. I had two kids by then, and wanted to make it work. I wanted to believe him when he told me years earlier that he was bisexual, but he chose me. I was naïve and happily so. I am hoping to capture my experiences concerning him, but also concerning my life leading up to this moment when I put words to a page. There is so much in life I should have seen, but only now do I understand. I want to help other people like me who have lived a life that was altered completely in one day. I want to help someone else see the truth right before their eyes – the truth of who they are, who they love and what they are capable of.

Life at 33

I think that 33 is an age where you make it or break it. Many famous people died at age 33:

1. John Belushi (comedian)
2. Chris Farley (comedian)
3. Jesus (spiritual icon)
4. Eva Paron (Argentina first lady - aka Evita - aka the musical I rocked out to the other day

Others accomplished amazing things at 33:

1. Amelia Earhart became the first woman to fly across the Atlantic alone (ok, so she disappeared, but still, bug accomplishment).
2. Michelangelo created the David (kudos - I am personally dating my own statuesque man).
3. Clark (of Lewis and Clark, not Lois and Clark) was 33 at the start of their expedition.

OTHER cool things about 33:

1. 33 is the largest positive integer that cannot be expressed as a sum of different triangular numbers (NO CLUE what this means).
2. The atomic number of arsenic (is "old lace" an element?).
3. According to Al-Ghazali the dwellers of Heaven will exist eternally in a state of being age 33.
4. The code for international direct-dial phone calls to France (just in case you ever want to call France).
5. The number printed on all Rolling Rock beer labels; '33' is a Vietnamese beer that American soldiers became familiar with during the war; '33' (three-three) is a Nigerian produced brand of beer; Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer used to be advertised as "Blended 33 to 1"(beer is big on 33).

Best thing about 33? It's my age and a time I will mark in my life as a turning point. 33 is an age of discovery, understanding and growth. 33 brought me new life, love and perspective. 33 promises to bring more change, growth and opportunity. 33 will forever be the year of divorce, job changes and sobering, humble realities. Who knows what 34 has in store?

Keep in mind, dear reader, that age is a state of mind. They say you are as old as you feel, and I think I feel stable, happy and well suited to 33. Would YOU go back to your 20's? Think long about it. If you are IN your 20's, enjoy them to the fullest - I mean that. Come about 28 or so, your next phase of life seems to solidify. 30 is only scary if you let it be. Same with 40, 50, etc. Now, I know I am still young, and many of you are well past 33, but truly, you are as old as you want to be. I am happy here.

SO 34, when you arrive in October, I will embrace you. You are the atomic number of selenium (which apparently is a byproduct of mining copper...sounds important...). Also, "#34", a song by the Dave Matthews Band (who doesn't love Dave Matthews?). AND should I want to call Spain, it's the international dialing code for the country. I am also hoping you bring peace, happiness and love as your predecessor, 33, has been trying like hell to do as well.

Way to be, 33!

Finding Home

DISCLAIMER: To those who have been part of my life this past year - thank you. For those who have stopped being part of my life - thank you and good luck.

 

AND a year turns...ok, almost turns. It's amazing what 12 months can bring. If you walked up to me a year ago and said, "Hey, you are going to be in an apartment, looking for a job AND dating a father of two IN ABOUT A YEAR." Yep, would have called the Crazy Police and had them on you like slick on snot. But, you would have been 100% correct. It's been a year of ups and downs. A year of discovery and rebirth. A year of learning that YOU are your greatest cheerleader. SO let's dissect the year and see what we have learned, shall we? It is a journey that lead me away and then lead me to a new place that I call home - in my heart and in my mind.

LE DIVORCE

Yes, let's get this one out of the way RIGHT away. After 15 years with someone - 10 of those years as a married couple - and two kids, one would think that all the bumps and road blocks were smoothed over...wrong! Life, dear kids, can completely screw you over when you least expect it. In a matter of a few hours, I lost my best friend, husband and confidante. Have you ever taken a Cheeto and watched it dissolve in water? That would be the general idea behind how I watched my world change. 

NOW I don't want pity or "poor you." You see, had this happened 5 or 6 years ago, I would have been unable to continue, BUT as luck would have it...You see, I have two amazing sons, and I thank my ex for that. I also have amazing memories and don't regret one moment of that life. Though the other end of this equation has gone Mr. Hyde on the world, and I don't recognize him anymore, I still wish him luck and happiness. Life is too short to harbor ill will. All the energy it takes to hate and rage can be so much more productive if used in positive pursuits. So, my dear ex, find happiness. 

NOTES FOR THOSE WHO ARE FACING DIVORCE:

1. If you have kids GET A LAWYER - preferably one who can laugh with you.
2. Stick to your guns - because they will stick to theirs.
3. IF you have kids, keep it civil. 
4. Child Support is NOT an evil way to get one person to lose out on money...both of you are responsible emotionally AND FINANCIALLY for the kids you created...suck it up. And hello, the state determines the amount...
5. Your kids are not an inconvenience...so work them in to ANY SCHEDULE as much as you can.
6. It's cold in court - bring a jacket.
7. It's ok to date - really, it is.

DATING

SO let's get on to dating. WOW did I learn a TON in a short amount of time. Dating is probably right up there with walking on glass in terms of pain, scaring and inevitable loss of feeling in the affected region...but a necessary evil if you do not want to be that weird cat person in apartment 4D. I dated...and dated...long story short, I only ever dated and was "with" my husband. Yes folks, I had only been with one man my whole life. SUDDENLY at 33 I was set free onto the world. Oh, did I live.

My sister gave me advice, "Our family has this curse in a sense...people are drawn to us and fall in love with us instantly." I laughed at her as I am not some Venus with long legs, flowy hair and perfect face. BUT she was right - I think we are like walking cocaine...addictive as get out. Finding men to talk to, date and share my time was not difficult. Each one taught me about myself, and I learn a MOST IMPORTANT lesson...MEN LIKE WOMEN. Who knew? 

The attention men give to a woman is amazing. My brother explained that sex to a man is like the best muffin in the world. Once you have a taste of it, you will do ANYTHING to try that muffin again. Well, I baked my share of muffins. I learned a few valuable lessons:

1. When a guy says "you have kids? COOL!" he means, "You don't actually have kids, they are just mythical creatures you speak of in rhyme." 
2. Many guys CANNOT kiss...the amount of times my pancreas was licked, via my mouth, would lead me to believe I have an immaculately clean digestive tract.
3. Hot guys are dicks. Enough said.
4. One night stands are really not that bad - especially when the guy is a hottie from St Louis in for Easter and he makes you laugh, has a BMW and can wear a tee like nobody's business (amazing 3 hours - not that I have experience here or anything).
5. IF HE DOESN'T PAY FOR DINNER THE FIRST TIME WALK AWAY. Chivalry isn't dead, it's just that some men forgot it exists. I am all for paying Dutch, but if HE asks YOU to dinner...it's all him. 
6. Sex with the right man is better than anything in the word - finding him just takes time...a little too much time...but worth it!

APARTMENT LIFE

Yes - I am a cubbie dweller. I went from a nice house to a 3-bdrm apartment. BONUS is I have a king bed to myself AND a bathroom in my bedroom. The amount of CRAP I had to cart to Goodwill during the move is almost scary. It's amazing how much one accumulates in 15 years that is just filler. Toys alone could have filled FAO. While it sucks paying to do laundry, and the creepy guy upstairs and his equally odd kids run screaming for hours nightly, I like our little home. I was able to paint AND my son even has Spider-Man and the Batman symbol on his wall - SUPER cool.

ALSO living in Madison is STELLAR. Culture, opportunity and the Farmer's Market...all amazing things. Having a sister so close also helps with child care and random watching of Game of Thrones with someone.

There is also a pool and gym at my complex...and gym brings me to...

WEIGHT LOSS

I lost 35 pounds...thus the men taking to me like ducks to water. I am a nice size 8 and loving it. Ok ok, so it is mostly thanks to my ex jumping onto the Gay Train and leaving me, but once the smoke settled, I decided to capitalize on the loss and maintain. I LOVE buying things without trying them on as I KNOW they will fit. It pretty much rules. 

(SIDE NOTE: Yeah - the ex GAINED weight. Small smile.)

JOB...or lack of...

OK - I saw the signs...parts and pieces moving off to Mexico. Effort to improve the site was dwindling...and my entire team is in another state. POOF - job gone. But here's the strange thing; even when my boss handed me the severance package, I knew I would be ok. I can't explain it. I was pissed - don't get me wrong - but I also knew I had the talent and resolve to get through it.  Having my Masters and solid experience, drive and ambition will pay out in the end. Mark my words. 

When this news was relayed to me, my best good friend at work sat in my car in the parking lot (seems to be a recurring theme) with me as I cried and found sanity. I also called my (drum roll) boyfriend who offered laughs, love and support. Yes...boyfriend...

THE BOYFRIEND

You ever meet someone and know in literally an INSTANT that you were meant to know them? Yes, that was what happened the moment I laid eyes on my dear man. The puzzle pieces fell into place on a physical, mental and emotional level. Our children mesh well, and the geek in me and the jock in him seem to melt perfectly. There is a spot in his arms where, when I am there, the world cannot touch nor hurt me. It's a great spot. It's home.

HOME

Yep - I found home. It's not a marriage built on a lie in a house taken by short sale. It's not the copious amounts of crap one accumulates in a life like books, movies or electronics. It's not a job. It's not what others tell me it should be. No, home is where my heart, body and soul found happiness, peace and love. Home is in my sons' laughter as they play. Home is the warm hug the man I love gives me when he sees me after an absence. Home is living in my body, accepting my heart and understanding my place in the world. Home is loving and being loved by those who find value in me, while omitting the evil and hurt being thrust upon me by those who haven't completely found their place. 

Home is here - here and now. It's going to be wherever I am if I so choose to make it a reality. So, a year CAN change your life. It's up to YOU if and how you let it. YOU choose your life - make it amazing.

Crouching Husband, Hidden Truth

You know that moment in a scary movie when you, the viewer, know the creepy bad guy is waiting around the corner and KNOW that if you were the clueless teen who said, "I am going to find Janet," you would have said, "Janet is an idiot, I am out of here"?? Yeah, perspective and clarity. You as the viewer HAVE this because you are on the outside looking in. I am sure in this case the clueless teen really thought they could save Janet. WELL folks, the past 8 or so months for me has been the "corner," I have been the clueless teen, and my husband has been the bad guy - who I thought was "Janet". Confused?? Welcome to life in my house since August 3rd, 2011.

They say that life changes and things happen for a reason. They say that life only gives you as much as you can handle. They say look on the bright side of life. Well, "they" can take this advice and ram it up their....and I mean this with love and admiration. I don't think we understand the pain that those around us go through. We offer up advice, are there to lean on, but in the end, that person is alone in their struggle. I am guilty of this as well, and I apologize to anyone I spurted off some cliché to. I also thank those that gave me the support I needed. Despite the slightly bitter tone here, I needed all of it. I have just reached the end of my sunshine rope. I need action. I need amazing. I need a break - just a break.

I have learned from my experience. I have learned strength, patience, empathy, caution and sadly, I have learned that love can be a great mask for a person who is trying to be something they simply are not. I was a good band-aid for 15 years. I really was. Now, I refuse to be the band-aid. I refuse to just be "ok enough" for someone. Now that my divorce is winding down and the bad is really hitting the fan, if someone comes along that wants in on me and my life - they have to ASTOUND me. I am strong enough and able enough to carry through. In short, I now have expectations. Gentlemen, start your engines and good luck.

See - dear reader - my husband left me for a man. NOW he will claim that he hated me from day one. I made him miserable. I castrated him and forced him to be straight. Blah blah blah. Bottom line, you make your own life. You make your decisions. You only have you to blame for your situations. You make your bed. I want to make it clear that nobody - NOBODY - was as supportive of his decision as I was. I was hurt but happy for him because he found who he was. TO THIS DAY after all the pain and hate thrown at me, I STILL support his choice and always will. I want him in our children's lives, and I want him to find happiness. BUT I also know that an adult can make decisions. IF his sexuality was in question by him for years, then he should have made better decisions. I am all for standing up for you as a person, but I expect people to be accountable for their choices. I accept this in my life as well. Where I draw the line is having my job as a parent and my compassion for those I love belittled, slandered and defiled. This man, whom I loved, chose to take the low road. He will tel you I am a liar. He will tell you I am scum. He will tell you I lie to those closest to me and those closest in return tell me what I want to hear. He will also head silence from everyone when the bad hits the fan for him. SO I wash my hands of him and his anger, bitterness and pain. I have kids to raise, and they deserve all my energy.

What have I learned about life over 8 months? I learned your friends and family truly are there for you. I was astounded by the support, love and understanding presented by my friends on a daily basis. My family has gone to bat for me - sometimes in a brash way - but with love in their hearts. I learned that my children are my strength, happiness and life. They alone are my motivation. They are the loves of my life. I learned I have the ability to care for all of us - I was basically doing it anyway for years. It's hard, and digging out of the financial crater is crap, but there is progress. I learned that I am a desirable, sexy, smart and funny woman. I am everything a man would be lucky to have, and everything he should endeavor to deserve. Thus the need to be astounded.

FINALLY I learned this - life is hard, but when you surround yourself with love - REAL LOVE - from those who you support and who support you, you can move mountains. So last cliché:

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

Ladies and gentlemen, I can benchpress a bulldozer full of bowling balls.

I LOVE YOU ALL - and you know who you are!

Staci Keanan has NOTHING on me...

Remember that TV show from the 80's called "My Two Dads?" The basic story line is a girl's mother dies and she doesn't know which of 2 men are the father of her daughter - played by Staci Keanan. The daughter meets the dads, they all decide to live together (as the men have no qualms about their manly orientation) and heartfelt hilarity ensues. It's a tale of love, family and the power of a dad in a girl's life...well, I have MULTIPLE dads. One might say I have a plethora of them. Both official ones and honorary ones as well as ones that take a role akin to a father in my life. So in honor of FATHER'S DAY 2011, I am going to pay homage to each dad in my life.

DAD #1 (aka BioDad)

I struggled with which dad to cover first, but it makes sense to start with the one that contributed to 1/2 my DNA. I refer to him as my "bio-dad" or by his first name, Scott. Scott and my mother were in high school together in the 70's. Along with parties and rebellion, my mother and Scott ALSO got me. Scott found out about me when I was a little older - as will be explained in "DAD #2" - and yadda yadda yadda, he lost touch with me. WELL, many moons later, a younger me (23) sent out letters to anyone matching Scott's last name. Long story short - I found my sister and then the whole family.

Out of this reunion, I got three more sibling, a great step-mom and a relationship with Scott. According to my husband, I also got much of my outward appearance from this side of my genetic pool - including my freckles and red-tinted brown hair. My boys also call Scott "Grandpa Scott" and his wife "Grandma Renae." I have to say that from Scott I have learned that out of struggle comes great things, and that sarcasm is alive and well (and fluent in my genes).

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY SCOTT - my bio-dad!

DAD #2 (also known as just "Dad")

Gary, for all intents and purposes, IS my dad. He married my mother when I was 4 back in the simple times of the early 80's. With my mom, he brought into this world my 2 sisters, and until I met Scott's family, the only sibling I ever thought I had. Dad - as I have and always will call him - loves music, family and enjoying life. He's a big kid and occasionally has a short and blunt temper. Growing up, I learned a love of music and family from him. Along with my uncles (my mother's brothers), he's sit up late on Saturday nights singing everything from "Hotel California" to "Rocky Raccoon" to the latest from ZZ Top. He even wrote a song that my sisters and I know the lyrics to to this day.

Dad and I haven't always agreed, and I sometimes think he still sees me as a 12-year old, but he has always been proud of me and proud to let everyone know this fact. Even though my parents divorced almost 10 years ago, my dad tries to check up on me and the boys. my sons call him "Papa" and LOVE going to his cabin. In fact, this Father's Day Weekend, that's where Noah is with my sisters and their kids. My dad is leaving the cabin to his grandkids - and I know they will be excited when the meaning of this actually sinks in.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DAD!

DAD #3 (aka Donald Arthur Fresen - honorary father)

In my life, I have met MANY people. Most of the best people I know, and the longest relationships I have, come from my many community theater shows I have had the good fortune to be part of in my life. Dad #3 comes from this amazing group of people. Don met me shortly before I turned 16 when I was cast as the youngest actor in Godspell. My mother loved him as did I. The rule became "if Don's going to be there, then that's just fine." Don always looked out for me and made sure that I wasn't involved in any of the possibly "questionable behavior" at cast parties, overnight trips, late night food runs after rehearsals, etc. I truly believe if I told my mother and father that I was going to go storm city hall and burn flags in effigy, as long as I said Don was going to be there, all was well. Don was a LARGE influence in who I am today, and I cherish his insight and friendship. Don and others helped me be the person I am and love life and its many differences.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, DON!

DAD #4 (aka Melvin J Los - the "father in law")

Ok, so you can pick your husband, but you can't pick your in-laws. I have hear horror stories about "evil mother-in-laws" and "freakish father-in-laws." I am SUPER lucky - I got great in-laws from the parents on down. When I was in my senior year of high school and needing air to clear my head, Melvin and Carol let me move into their basement. Ok, so Jake was SUPPOSED to sleep on the couch and me in the bed - but come on...hormonal teens in the same house...that's physically impossible to pull off. (I WILL INSIST that Mel and Carol understand that while we may have slept together occasionally, we never actually SLEPT together. That was a privilege saved for our wedding - and no, I am not a prude...) Still, they were gracious and heck, once Mel even walked in on Jake and I making out and he MAY have caught a glimpse of my goodies...so I think that's actually the real reason he likes me (ha ha ha).

From Mel I have learned about the true meaning of respect and stability. He has been there for us always, and is always willing to lend a hand. While all the "Grandpas" play with my boys, Mel PLAYS with my boys like he, too, is a 3 year old. Wrestling, baseball, goofing around, everything. Not bad for a man in his 60's. Mel always asks how I am and listens to the answers. He is great to joke around with, and even was a fairly good partner at Adult Weekend during ladder golf...though I was distraught to learn that he only got good after drinking a few beers..which was AFTER the tournament - next time suck down some Miller BEFORE we start the games!

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, MELVIN J!

DAD #5 (aka Joe - mom's Joe)

Mom's Joe is a quiet guy. He has many hermit-habits, and shies away from socially crowded situations. I know I challenge his thoughts a lot, but he takes it in stride. I consider Joe a "dad" in a way because he is always willing to help out Jake and I. He is truly someone we can look to for advice, help and support. No matter what the future holds, I know Joe will always want to be considered part of our lives and that of our kids. The boys call him "Papa Joe" taking lead from their older cousin, Olli.

So, even though Joe is silent, he's a loud whisper in our lives, and that is why he makes this list of the men in my life who are amazing "dads."

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, JOE!

DAD #6 (aka my husband - Jake)

Now to the dad who isn't MY dad, but is the most amazing dad I know. Jake once said to me, "I want to have a son who can look up to me as I look up to my dad. I want to feel that love and pride for my child." I think he'll get his wish. We have two sons who love their daddy so very much. He plays with them daily, and never finds them to be a burden or a chore. He is right there with diaper changes, laundry and discipline. Our sons will not only learn love, compassion and respect from Jake, but how to be a good man. My only wish is that they are the same man at their core as their father. Jake would do anything for his family and just seeing his face light up when he sees the boys reminds me that he was truly meant to be a dad.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, MY DEAREST LOVE!

...and Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. Remember, mom's are amazing, but dad's can teach things to their kids that a mother cannot though she will try. Be a good dad - not just a presence in the house - a presence in the lives of your children from the moment that child opens its eyes to see you. Men get a stigma thrust upon them of stoic strength, but loving your kids and showing them is not weakness...in fact, it's the pinnacle of strength.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

The difference between "wow" and "WOW"

So Elijah was activated on June 7th. Activated as in had his new cochlear implant programed and turned on - not activated for military duty or anything...NOW, I am beyond excited that he can hear things, don't get me wrong. When we sat in the audiology office and they said "on" for the first time...and Eli did nothing...I was a little bummed out. After some adjustments and programming, Eli finally heard a hand clap. He just stopped an smiled.

HE HEARD A HAND CLAP - holy crap! A simple action and he HEARD it. CLAP CLAP CLAP - just like that. JOY ABOUNDED... And that was it.

We were told that the auditory nerve needs to be strengthened before massive amounts of information (electronic impulses) can be fed into it. I guess that makes sense. Before you can use a muscle, it needs to become stronger. This means that we need to work him UP to human frequency sound. SO he can hear clapping, stomping and some driving bass beats in music. This is AMAZING, but I am still a little tiny teeny small bit disappointed that he still cannot hear me. We were all ready to work on his first sounds, teaching him how to identify sound, etc, etc.

So we wait.

He has 2 processors and 8 programs. We are on P6 (program 6 - my cochlear lingo). So far we live in reactions to booming noises. He smiles and stops. He did hear the beginning of the noon siren...so that was cool. BUT COME ON - the wait is KILLING me. Is that bad? I'd like to be happy in the amazing excitement of him hearing ANYTHING - but I would really just love to have him hear me. The audiologist said that maybe at the one month mark he'll hear us...depending on where the computer sets his next set of programs. I just HATE waiting...

...but it is pretty cool my son's hearing is controlled with a little remote I get to carry...

SO STAY TUNED - I know this post was fast and short, but I wanted to get it out there that I am an impatient woman...especially after waiting SO LONG just to get the implant turned on!

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

It's MOTHER'S DAY. A day to reflect on your children, take in the love of a spouse and resign yourself to not do anything all day in recognition of the effort and pain you went through to BECOME a mother...yeah, right. Any real mom (this being a mother who does not enlist the help of a full time nanny so she can go shop and feign parenting angst) knows that taking a day off is not necessarily ever going to happen. I travel for work, and though I am away from my kids, I still have to take care of grown-up children. SO in honor of the day where we mom's get a free breakfast made with love or an extra hug, I want to outline my idea of a perfect mother's day - and it involves NO MONEY.

1. Sleeping In
   This simple gesture on the part of the ones you love could mean more than a relaxing spa day. Imagine - SLEEPING IN. Not just sleeping in until 7am as your kids decided to give you the extra 1/2 hour, but lounging in dreamland for a few extra hours without having to be woken up by a child. Absolute bliss. Add a comfy room and the pleasant sounds of a ceiling fan to lull you to sleep, and Dreamland, here you come!
2. Breakfast
   I give kudos to my husband for making breakfast this morning - pancakes. This simple gesture means two things: ONE, YOU don't have to make it, and TWO: YOU don't have to clean up after it. Now granted, a mother needs to then be satisfied with the meal placed before her. Might I suggest adding fruit, her favorite beverage and placing mom far away from any child that will be removing from her breakfast enjoyment by needing help cutting, chewing or drinking.
   
3. No Expectations All Day
   Mom has ZERO obligations all day. Laundry, cleaning, child bathing, diaper duty, financial woes, driving, cooking, etc - these are all things that will be taken care of without mom having to mention them or even worry they won't be accomplished. I would spend my "no obligation" day sleeping, writing, watching a movie, going for a walk or even embarking on a project of my choosing...all sans interruption - like back in the day before the blessings of children came into being.
4. Lunch/Dinner
   Like breakfast, and in line with point #3, food prep and meal planning will be in the hands of others. Mom can dictate the meal and even choose the restaurant (yes, I said these would all be FREE, but I didn't say for WHO) that will be visited. Mom gets to eat first and eat SLOWLY - again, sans interruption.
   
5. MASSAGE
   Feet, back, neck, legs - everything. I suggest dad or significant other takes on this task in conjunction with wine and many MANY comments on the beauty and perfection of the mom in question.
   
6. Bubble Bath
   Now, some moms aren't big on this - but I am. Nothing soothes aching muscles, fried nerves and a week-long headache like a warm bath. Locking oneself in a room where candles can be lit, a good book can be employed and the world can be shut out of is therapy you need (especially the working moms - as we ALL are - I mean even stay at home mom's work their butts off). During bath time, NO INTERRUPTIONS (note the recurring theme). SHOULD you have a tub like mine where it isn't luxurious, heck, just pretend.
   
7. Love - Lots of It
   From everyone and to everyone. Recognize all mothers with a phone call, hug, facebook message, text, video chat, etc. Love on Mother's Day should equal that given and felt at Christmas. Moms not only help populate the world, we feed it, calm it, discipline it, hug it, teach it, do silly dances with it, tickle it, tackle it, defend it, support it, dress it, kiss its ouchies, sing to it, rock it to sleep, nurse its maladies, make it strong and leave it all the better when we are gone.
   

Centuries of moms have come and gone. Each of us have one or we wouldn't be here (unless you are a test tube birth in a lab somewhere - in which case I am not qualified to tell you to whom you should give your Mother's Day card). I look out my window and see cars rushing by, people walking past an the sun shinning and wonder, "Is each person out there going to see a mom today?" I hope so. Mom's aren't perfect. I admit that. Yes, I too am not perfect, however, like my fellow moms, perfection is what we want for our children, so we tailor the world around them to give them all they need to achieve it.

Happy Mother's Day to my mom, my grandmother, my bio-dad's wife, my mother-in-law, my friends who are moms, my aunts, my sisters, my sister-in-laws and even to those I know who are pregnant for the first time. To these gals I say this - the club you are entering is elite, original and bound by one thing - we KNOW we are always right...the rest of the world just spends their lives realizing that!

Life at 7:05am on a Wednesday

As I sit here in the restaurant at the DoubleTree Hotel in sunny Anaheim, California (wide awake as the time difference has my internal clock all confused), I decided to blog for two reasons:
ONE - why not? I mean it's been a while.
TWO - I need to fill time and maybe someone will want to fill their time reading something completely random like this post.
So let's break it down into the many MANY facets of my life as I cruise along the 32nd year of my life. (and i promise - the picture will make more sense at the end BUT it caught your attention I bet).

MY MARRIAGE

Perhaps the most BUSY part of my life. To date, my hubby and I have enjoyed nearly 10 years of marriage. It hasn't all been wine and roses (though they have made many appearances). Marriage is tough. Anybody who IS married, or is planning on getting married, and HASN'T realized this is either in denial or in a coma. It is frustrating, tiring, scary and even annoying at times. I know we have had large ups and gigantic, world-ending downs. But this aside, marriage is also something that I don't think gets enough credit by today's culture. I know my marriage has taught me how to love, survive, laugh and made me the person I am. Marriage is hard, but it is also the easiest thing in the world IF you have a good one. What's easier than coming home to your best friend? What's easier that sitting in a room together watching a movie in happy silence? What's easier than being able to say everything in one smile? Marriage is a life-long lesson that we all hope to get right. Those of us lucky enough to see 10, 20 or 60 years of it have a special gift (cheesy as it sounds) that is not only rare, but AMAZING.

MY SONS

I have two. ONE is 3 going on 30. He is my little man, my mini-me and my daily reminder that the world does have beauty to offer. He can spell his name, both by writing it AND using sign language. He's SUPER smart - so much so it staggers me on a daily basis. Everyone says they have a brilliant child (it's a parental boasting right). But honest to God, I have a brilliant child. I am just amazed that I made this little person who one minute is spelling his name and the next is rockin' out to 80's music. Parenting is hard - at BELIEVE ME - I have wanted to staple him to the carpet on MANY occasions. Parenting is also fun. I didn't want kids for most of my life. Now that I have them, I wonder - WHAT was I thinking? Ok, ok, ok - so I can't just go out and I am beyond broke, but I have little people who love me EVEN if we lived in a box and ate nothing but Mac n Cheese (which I think Noah would prefer anyway).

My other son is deaf. It took a while for me to be comfortable saying this.

DEAF

This little four letter word is feared by hearing parents like me. It's like CANCER or BIRTH DEFECT - things that you learn about on TV but never expect to have in your life. However, I have learned that DEAF is like BRUNETTE or RIGHT HANDED - it's just an aspect of an overall person. Also, we recently learned that he is deaf due to a genetic trait that both my husband and I have to be carriers of in order for our child to BE deaf. The chances of this are only 3%...yeah - FATE isn't quiet when it wants your attention. We were meant to have little Eli. Meant to be together and meant to journey this path.

Cochlear Implant time is also approaching for our little man. I watch him grow in his silence - which in anything BUT silent. He babbles and observes. He is as in-tune to the world as a hawk. His smile could melt the most iron of hearts. I can tell already he is loving and has a stellar personality. The implant will give him another tool to navigate his life. Should he choose to remain in the deaf community, we plan to continue to learn ASL (which Noah is a whiz at). Jake and I are trying to put everything in perspective and keep on track, but doubts do creep in. Only affirmation from friends, new and old, reminds us that we are doing what good parents should - give our child all the advantages and options the world today can offer.

MY JOB

This brings me to why I am at a table in the Trofi restaurant at my hotel. As the "Marketing Communications & Creative Manager" I travel a lot. Currently I am in Anaheim cranking out many projects for 2 of the 4 brands I work with. Travel is ok. I don't mind it BUT it gets lonely and I miss my family a lot. Apparently I am doing well at my job. My sales reps love the help and planning I put into the various trade shows I am in charge of. My department heads are satisfied with my skills and abilities. All in all I don't think I'll be searching for a job anytime soon. I like the variety I have and - as always - am astounded by the faith my coworkers have in my abilities. It makes me feel like I actually know what I am doing.

I just got my masters in Consumer Psychology - so now I have a MOUNTAIN of debt instead of just a hill. Basically it means I can say I have a masters...yeah, that's about it. BUT I am hopeful the skills I have learned will translate to my job and into my future career ultimately leading to a PhD and the purchase of the Jaguar I so desperately want. And I want world peace.

SO that's it folks. That is life to date for Jamie Lea Los. Mother. Professional. Friend. Wife. Daughter. Sister....and all around Wonder Woman (as Noah calls me - as some days he is Batman or Kid Flash or Silver Surfer or Spiderman). I think all women are Wonder Woman. We females should never forget that. Single or married, with or without kids, we are amazing. Men have kept us in the shadows for centuries not because they view us as weak, but because (I believe) they know how amazing we are. SO to all the WONDER WOMEN out there from Anaheim, California I say HAVE AN AMAZING DAY and YOU PRETTY MUCH ROCK.

Implanting Tomorrows

So here we sit. Eli is now 8 months old and growing like a weed. He's healthy, big and happy. In fact, he's well in the 96% range for height...and weighs 20 lbs. For comparison, Noah, who is 3, weighs only 34 lbs. SO, with that in mind, the Cochlear Team feels Eli could have his first implant before he turns a year old. It's a pretty sweet deal. However, looking at implant options and talking about two surgeries (implant one side, then 3 months later, the other), I pause to contemplate the world.

FIRST we have had SUPERB help from our Birth to 3 program, our Deaf Mentor (Sarah, who basically rocks), our Guide-by-Your-Side (Karen), our ENT (Dr Chun), our audiologist, implant team and more I can't think of. I didn't realize one little boy could be important to so many people, so many strangers, so quickly. We have been blessed with good insurance and live in a community with a stellar health system. We also are lucky to be able to have jobs where we can go to appointments and not worry about losing income. So far, all is well. For this, I am beyond grateful.

SECOND, we are learning sign language. Sarah, our mentor, is like Eli in that she has profound hearing loss. What this means is that they can hear...but unless the sound is a BOOMING jet engine, there will be no recognition. SO, until the implant process is at hand, we are learning sign language. Sarah doesn't speak at all, so we are learning a LOT by immersion. Noah is a signing fiend. I am so proud of him. He asks Sarah how to sign things all the time. Ask him to sign "Buzz" (as in Lightyear) for you. It's cute.

FINALLY, I think of those in my family and my friends who ask about Eli and support our journey. There are not words to explain how critical this it to us. Eli's smile makes you fall in love with him instantly, so support is not hard to come by, but it's important to recognize it and say THANK YOU!

SO there you go, my thoughts on the process to date. We have MONDO appointments with our cochlear team in the next several weeks. My little man has many people working to "fix his ears," as Noah puts it. Who knew Noah was on the right track when he told Jake that we just needed to change the batteries in Eli's ears.

So I gave a homeless girl $20 today...

Here I am, in San Francisco. It is the Gay Mecca, busting out with Chinese culture and fashionable. It is also heavy with homeless. You can't walk more than 10 feet without literally bumping into a homeless person. Granted, being homeless in California isn't like being homeless in Chicago...but the sheer amount is staggering.

So, it "begs" the question - are those who give to the homeless "schmucks?"

No - I say if you give money to another human being, good on you. Sure, they may buy booze and they may buy drugs, but so might a non-homeless person. Plus you don't know the circumstances that made them homeless, so who are you to judge? So yes, I gave a homeless girl $20.

She was different.

She was sitting on the sidewalk outside the posh stores down Powell St. She was bent over reading a thick novel. Next to her was a little wire-haired Benji dog. She had 3 backpacks and a suitcase behind her. She also had a sign that read "HUNGRY, HOMELESS AND PREGNANT. Any little bit helps me and my family." I could see her bulging pre-belly, and thought, heck, who am I to judge. Yes, I too need money, but at least I have a home, a job and that job put me in San Fran where I had the fortune of walking past this girl.

I handed her the money and she looked shocked and grateful. She had MANY tatoos on her face, arms ad body, rotting teeth and wore thick glasses. She almost looked like she was going to cry. I told her that I just had a baby, and I can't imagine life without a place to call home for him. She asked his name and I said, "Elijah." I learned that she too had a son named Elijah who was a year old. She doesn't take him out with her when she begs for money. I didn't get tell her that Eli is almost totally deaf, but she told me that HER Elijah has hearing problems...

...talk about COINCIDENCE...

So I bid her good luck, God bless, and started to walk away. She called after me, "Congrats and thank you!"

So who knows, maybe she'll by drugs and maybe she'll get booze...or just maybe she'll get her little Elijah a happy meal and eat something to help her new baby to grow. It was my place to help, not judge. So God, please help that girl and her little family. Life is hard for everyone - and I need to just think of her to realize that it could be so much worse.

Options...we are obsessed with them!

In today's materialistic society of individuals trying to be part of the group but stand out, there are just too many options. What I mean is you can now trick out anything from your car to your shoes to yes, even your braces. Customization is key always. We want what the Jones' have, but we want it different enough to be similar but better...

Options are part of life as well. You can take road A or road B; or even road C if A and B are not to your liking. Do you go to college or straight to a job? Do you get a Big Mac or a sub? Do you buy import or American? Do you marry and have kids or have kids and marry? Tatoo or piercing? Both? CHOOSE CHOOSE CHOOSE...but choose wisely. With every decision comes consequences; good or bad. Yeah, the latest celeb haircut looks great on the 6 foot blond amazon goddess, but on your average mid-western melon it's a travesty. So the next choice is wig or dye job?

Making endless decisions is part of life, and as adults, we are faced with an endless stream of them from the moment we wake up (go to work or go back to sleep?) to the moment we go to sleep (sleep or sex? - side note, as a parent of 2 small kids, sleep wins 95% of the time). Our choices are always complex and we think we know the outcomes, but more times than not, we are surprised. This compounds once you add children...because now you have to make decisions for a person who YOU made, and who relies on YOU...and you don't want the choices to end up as long therapy sessions at the age of 40 when your now grown up baby thinks their inability to commit stems from the time you couldn't choose between Bambi and Cinderella so you said "well, let's just have a quite night and read the CAT IN THE HAT."

The issue of choice compounds even further when your child has a developmental issue - like my little man and his inability to hear. NOW I am faced with ETHICAL choices...should he get implants or be deaf and choose himself when he's older? Should I go with implant brand A that is waterproof, but brand B has better sound? Do you get one or two implants? Do you start out with sign language or lip reading? Shall your child be a talker or a signer? Do you have insurance to cover this or do you have to wait? Can you afford the copays? BLAH BLAH BLAH....

For an issue concerning a deaf child, there's a lot of noise.

To help alleviate the clutter, we have enrolled in our county's BIRTH TO 3 program which aims to help with these decisions. We will also be visiting an ENT for a second opinion and meet with audiologists and otolaryngologists (say THAT 10 times fast). Each groups will try to help us make decisions...but in the end, it's our choice as parents. What path to take? What is right? What is ethical?

SO when you are 75 and your 40 year old child looks at their life, will they be happy with what you have done for them? As a child myself, the answer isn't always clear. Parents mean well. I just pray my son knows that.

Besides - we can always trick out the implants!

Sometimes there just aren't enough rocks...

You know that scene in Forrest Gump where Jenny and Forrest return to her childhood home and she begins to toss rocks at the house, breaking the windows. She does this to take a small amount of revenge on a father who sexually abused her and destroyed her life. After tossing several rocks, she collapses to the ground and cries. Forrest sums up the experience by saying, "I guess sometimes there just aren't enough rocks."
This is my feeling when it comes to the latest news on my new baby.

Little "Goober" failed his hearing test right after birth. My first child had the same issue, but passed his follow up hearing test with flying colors. I assumed, silly me, that Goober would be the same way. Imagine my dismay when the audiologist said in no uncertain terms, "he has severe to profound hearing loss and is a candidate for cochlear implants."

Toss rock #1.

So my child is deaf? Really? You have a baby and want that little person to be perfect, but here's the thing, it doesn't always work out that way.

Toss rock #2.

I know - it could be WAY worse. He could be missing limbs or blind or have cancer or a list of other atrocities that affect the young in the world. I know this, but those who say "it could be worse" aren't feeling the helplessness and anxiety I am about my little boy who may face surgery in a few months to allow him to hear his mother's voice. Let me at least be upset about this.

Toss rock #3.

SO the rocks are tossed. I haven't improved the situation and all I get is the slight satisfaction that comes with the mental release of writing down your unhappiness. I will now have to let my "mental Forrest Gump" pick me up, brush me off, and point out that there are never enough rocks. So I'll have to stop tossing them, and move on.

So now what? We have an appointment with Goober's pediatrician on Friday to go over the results of the test as the audiologist used words that I had to keep looking up. Then we have to go for a second opinion. Next is a series of hearing aid trials that will then lead to recommendations for the cochlear implants - these can be installed (like he's a car or something) by the time he's one. Studies show that, as we discovered this so early, he'll have a normal life with normal speech patterns and communication abilities. Until then though, it's going to be a long road. We'll have to learn signs to communicate with my baby. My oldest will be wonderful at this as he's already a big helper. My husband is also strong and right there ready to work at this. We can do this and will. Little Goober will be fine and it's just a bump along the way...

My only sadness as this journey starts...little Goober doesn't know the sound of his mommy's voice.

Where's a rock when you need one?

What is strength?

What does it mean to be strong? Does it mean large biceps and the ability to lift twice your body weight? Does it mean standing up for what you believe in when challenged? Does it mean holding up the world when it threatens to crash on those you love? It means all these things, and I have seen strength from my tall, handsome husband and my smallest son.

First - my husband. When the news that our newborn son had to go to the NICU for issues breathing, having just given birth two days earlier, I lost it. Any mother out there will testify that hormones are completely out of control the first few days after you push a human out of your body. Couple this with watching your newborn get rushed out of the room the second he is born as he is not breathing, and news of a trip to the NICU hits like a ton of bricks.

As I collapsed, my husband became a pillar for my family. He protected me from phone calls from family in order to keep my hysteria in check. I know he cried to my family, how could he not? But by me, he was strength beyond strength. He held my hand and assured me that this would all be ok. He was Strength. For this, I love him even more.

Second - my son. Upon his birth, he was unable to breathe. It took an hour to fully get him awake and alert enough to come back to the room and see me. He then steadily declined to the point where the NICU was the only way to assess and treat him. He fought hard to breathe, and after a week, he has progressed enough to cause the oxygen they hooked up to him obsolete. He is now breathing on his own, and if he can keep it up, he can come home.

He showed me that the tiniest person can have enormous strength. His little lungs fought to repair the damage caused from aspirating amniotic fluid, and he's strong, eating well and progressing perfectly. He is Strength.

My men amaze me on a daily basis. From my husband working like crazy to get a teaching job, to my oldest son's kindness, compassion and humor to my new baby's ability to make me laugh at only a week old. These 3 men are my family, my life and my loves. They teach me what strength is, and for that, I am grateful.

Been a while...

So yeah, I have been busy...like über busy. You know, work, school, toddler, husband, travel and oh yeah, having a baby. This leaves little time for personal reflection or even personal time (or heck, even alone time in the bathroom with your thoughts and a much needed #2).

I am blogging today on life in general. There are several things I am grateful for and I just don't think I say it enough. SO UNIVERSE - THANK YOU for all you have given me:

1. My job: I love my job. It's challenging, different and a great mix of all the things I do well. Ok, ok, ok, so occasionally I have to do something that really makes me ask, "...and I went to college why..?" But all in all, it's great. I have traveled a LOT in the past several months and met many great people. I have been given kudos for my accomplishments and even had a great 6 month performance review. I am at this moment attending my national sales meeting (which I planned all of) in Dana Point, CA. I am backing in the sun on my balcony while working AND yes, blogging. All in all, it's a good place to be. PLUS without this job, Jake couldn't be a full-time student on the verge of finally graduating. Face it, at San Jamar, I was barely making enough to get by WITH Jake's income. There's no way we'd even be staying above water now with Jake not working. SO THANK YOU UNIVERSE for my job. Keep the success coming!
2. This goes to #2 - Jake. I am lucky to have a husband who has heart, compassion and is a great dad. Sure, we've had some bumpy spots, and I want to flick him on the forehead sometimes (what wife doesn't want to whack their hubby sometimes), but in the end, here we still are. He supports my career and picks up where I leave off when I travel. He also (even though he doesn't believe me) makes me feel pretty and special...even when I am the size of a house with a preggo belly. I really miss him when I travel because he is not only my husband, but my best friend, and we LOVE traveling together. (ok, you can vomit if you want.......I know.......) SO THANK YOU UNIVERSE for Jake - here's to a lifetime together.
3. My little Noma. He's the coolest kid. I know all parents gush about how smart and fun their kid is, but he really is super intelligent. It's like talking to a 10 year old kid even though he's only 2.5 years old. He makes me laugh, and what I love the most is I can see in him little glimmers of the man he'll be. He is compassionate, funny, charming (sometimes that's his saving grace) and all about family and fun. I can only hope that #2 is as cool as his big brother. SO THANK YOU UNIVERSE for a healthy, happy son and for the little man growing in my belly.
4. My friends and family. I have the best in both arenas. It's true. I can be a dork with my friends and they will echo it back to me without so much as a judgement (because I am at heart a big dork). My family is there for me and mine, and that's sadly rare in today's world. I say, if you are wrapped up in hating your family, you are missing out on a lot my friend - so suck it up, build a bridge, and get over it...you only get one family. SO UNIVERSE, thank you for my "universe."

SO there you have it, my sappy list of THANK YOUs that I am putting out to the universe. They say the positive you put out you get back...adn I think that's right. Happiness can happen, you just have to let it.

To pee or not to pee - and other things

I am sitting at my desk - I have to pee. NOW as a pregnant woman, this is not in any way uncommon. I visit the facilities at work at least 5 times a day if not more. The issue is that I have to travel across a small continent to GET to the bathroom. Anyone who works in an office setting knows that anytime you leave your desk, a giant flashing light appears above your head and anyone who has been looking for you will inevitably walk into your path and engage you in work-related conversations. Sometimes, these conversations even cause you to backtrack to your desk to obtain the answer. So my daily quandry is: How do I travel across the world to the bathroom without detection?

I have gone so far as to go back into the warehouse to walk across the building to come back into the office at the door by the bathrooms. This way, I only encounter those in shipping, assembly and manufacturing who don't know who I am and would prefer that I not make eye contact. The only issue is, this puts me a little out of my way, thus increasing the urgency to reach teh bathroom.

Bottom line: WHY can't there be a bathroom on THIS end of the building? Not to mention the fact that there are about 150 workers or more IN the building - most of whom, believe it or not, are female, and there are only 6 stalls...and you know, ladies, that there's always one stall that is off limits as some woman decided to eat 100 bean burritos for breakfast and leave the evidence for you to find - ew....(side note - why is it that public restroom always smell like old lady poo?)

SO that is my TMI for you for the day. I have to pee, and dread who will jump into my path along the way. During my first trimester when more came out my body from all areas, I was stopped on a jog to the bathroom by and IT guy, and I plainly said to him, "If you aren't bleeding, I need to use the facilities - now." He moved out of the way.

THAT said - wish me luck and off across the world I go!

Let's Talk Stupid

Ah yes, stupid. Webster's defines it thus:

stu⋅pid
–adjective

1.	lacking ordinary quickness and keenness of mind; dull.

2.	characterized by or proceeding from mental dullness; foolish; senseless: a stupid question.

3.	tediously dull, esp. due to lack of meaning or sense; inane; pointless: a stupid party.

4.	annoying or irritating; troublesome: Turn off that stupid radio.

5.	in a state of stupor; stupefied: stupid from fatigue.

6.	Slang. excellent; terrific.

In short - it means "salesman." NOW I know a good deal of salespeople and they are NOT stupid. They function in society, can tie their own shoes and make a copy on a complex copy machine. It is not these individuals that today's lesson are aimed; it's the ones who I practically have to hand walk through the perils of the world like i do my toddler. Today I sat neck deep in a pile of stupid.

SO - let's say you are a great salesperson and the company pays for you to have an ALL EXPENSE PAID ALL INCLUSIVE TRIP to the Dominican Republic. Normal people would give a, "hell yeah, let's go" attitude. They would understand that it's a longer flight, but the destination is worth the trip. Let me say, my salesman friend is not normal (remember, the theme today is stupid) and he complained from the get-go with flight planning.

NOW world events as they are, there was a tragic LARGE earthquake off the coast of Haiti (a country on the same island as the Dominican) and devistation is still being counted. SO emergency services gets priority for travel. This means that the crappy longer flights are left for the sunshine, freeloading sales reps from my company. NOW stupid rep "Tim" gets his list of flight options from me and his response is, "What do you mean you can't get to the Dominican in one day before 3pm?"

Let's revisit the definition of "stupid" to gauge my feelings about this question:

1. lacking ordinary quickness and keenness of mind; dull.
   My dear Tim, the Dominican is 1/2 a world away from your little haven in the west. There isn't a direct flight. Get on the bus.
2. characterized by or proceeding from mental dullness; foolish; senseless: a stupid question.
   This needs no further explanation...
3. tediously dull, esp. due to lack of meaning or sense; inane; pointless
   This was my feeling when it came to explaining the shape and size of the world to Tim - he would only ask why he still couldn't get there in less than 6 hours.
4. annoying or irritating; troublesome
   Yes, yes he is...
5. in a state of stupor; stupefied
   This has been my state of being all day as Tim has coworkers who are also salespeople with the same fantastic questions.
6. Slang. excellent; terrific
   Let's just say this is a "stupid" definition and use of "stupid."

SO that is the full description of my "stupid" day with the "stupid" rep on this "stupid" subject.

THANK YOU for letting me vent, dear reader.

My own personal power plant...

This will be quick. I learned yesterday that I will have enough natural gas to power me into the next century. I could probably even sell some of it and make a small profit. With the world as it is, money is tight, and FREE is always good...well, it's not TOTALLY free...I'll have to invest for about 18 years or more and then some.

What am I talking about??

Ladies and gents, I am going to have another BOY! That means I will have 3 men stinking me out of house and home and building up natural gas by the metric ton. SO - in about 10 years, my house will be the smelliest, most efficient on the block. Clark's gene can pass on the ability to produce a green cloud that will clear a room, melt wallpaper and cause the DOG to leave the bed. I will have 3 of these in my home.

...if you have spare candles or nose plugs, let me know!

Blogging amiss...

So my husband has informed me that I need to continue my little blog. He loves those of our friends, and I guess I can try to add my opinions to those out there in the greater ether of blogging land...

SO here's today's thought: why aren't there any books out there toting the ups and downs of the SECOND pregnancy? There are umpteen million books on the arrival of your first little bundle of joy (though they conveniently omit the icky, sore and unexpected "joys" of carrying a life), but there are little if any out there giving second-time mom's the tools needed to prepare for #2. IN RECOGNITION OF THIS, I, Jamie Los, do hereby give you my list of things that second time mothers and probably beyond need to know:

1. When they say "no two pregnancies are alike" it means for YOU either.
   My first pregnancy was sunshine and moonbeams (minus some sciatic issues at the end). I felt good, looked good and had energy. In the grand scheme, I only had morning sickness once, during which my husband, let's call him "Clark," asked innocently, "why are you throwing up??" Despite this one nasty incident, all was well. The delivery was even a snap.
   
   Welcome #2. You know that feeling you get when you take NyQuil and you are just about to pass into unconscious bliss. You know, your head is light, your movements are slow and trippy and you want nothing more than to crawl into your bed and pass out. THIS is the state of being for me ALL DAY and NIGHT during trimester one of baby #2. Also, nausea, hip pain and even VAGINA PAIN are always prevalent...that brings me to point #2.
2. You have VAGINA PAIN....what the..??
   Ok, it's not INTERNAL pain - or a burning pain - we're not talking STD or a rash...this is a pulsing, bruise-like pain all around your soon to be mangled little friend that only intensifies after sitting too long OR engaging in marital Olympics with your spouse. It's enough that you almost - I stress ALMOST - want to call a massage therapist and have them spend 30 minutes massaging the area around your little friend. I asked Clark to do this for me...yeah, that was too weird for him.
3. You thought your breasts got big with #1...HA HA HA...
   Now in my family, being blessed with mammoth. copious breasts is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing for your significant other who revels in their soft, round comfort, and a curse for you as you try to find dresses, swimsuits and button-up shirts that fit your full cup size while not being too big on your smaller body parts. With baby #1, they do swell a bit and yes, once the Boobie Fairy comes post-birth bringing mommy's milk for the baby, they swell to mythic, beer commercial size. Your spouse is please but won't touch due to unexpected leaking......BUt nonetheless, you stop breastfeeding and POOF they deflate t a size smaller than pre-baby...your spouse is saddened.
   
   NOW for #2. You pee on the stick, get all excited and the Boobie Fairy now has you on speed dial. She hears your joy and the coming #2 and POOF - you are now the proud owner of two dwarf planets orbiting your body. They aren't just bigm they are HUGE. Bras don't fit. Shirts don't fit. they get in the way. Female coworkers remark, "Wow your boobs have gotten big....no really, I mean BIG." Gee, thanks. This leads to issue #4....
4. Get comfy in your old maternity clothes as you will be in them form DAY ONE.
   Yes...I was in maternity clothes at 6 weeks. It's like my body said, "OH YEAH, I remember this - ok fellows, let 'er go!" Suddenly you butt is large, your hips have exploded and 20 lbs tack themselves onto you overnight. That's all I have to say about that...excuse me while I lament my little underwear...
5. What is that smell??
   It's unpleasant, but ladies, let's be truthful with the world...we ooze. Women ooze. Constantly. Something is always coming out. Well, with baby #2, it's like a leaky faucet. Oh, and for an added bonus, it's odor is unpleasant and you feel like you need to bathe 24/7. To combat this, you use vaginal washes (avoiding the douche...ew...) and place a panty liner in your now LARGE underwear. Yes, you don't HAVE a period, but you need to still go thru the motions.
   
   Then there's the boob smell...see #6...
6. What's with the goo?
   Ok, you expect to start seeing "goo" coming out of your breasts in the 7th to 8th month in preparation for making nutrients for your little miracle, I get this. BUT with baby #2, the water works showed up around 12 weeks...and it is a little smelly, makes the boobs grow even more AND makes them too sore for the enjoyment of your spouse - sorry, Clark.

There you have it. My journey thru pregnancy #2 up to 20 weeks...yes, there are still at least 20 to go. Now don't get me wrong, I am excited and my hubby is too. I look at my 2-year-old and know he'll be a good brother. We're working on the baby room, and I am looking forward to birthing in non-summer heat. But, alas, there are the above issues. Now they aren't one at a time...no no no...these bad boys come as a package deal. A full set. SO ladies, remember, #2 may be the most smelly, sticky, gooey, painful, uncomfortable and plumping experience of your life - but at least the reward is worth the discomfort.

Today's word is "Criterion"

According to Yahoo, today's educational expand your mind and sound intelligent word is "criterion" and it's definition is stated as: (noun) a standard of measurement or judgment.

I think today this is quite an insightful word to have posted. Mainly because, in the last week, my husband and 14 people employed by my parent company have been let go - cut off - given notice - chopped off like a bad limb.

How, you ask, does the word "criterion" then fit into you feelings on the state of the economy and that of those who know who are now on unemployment? Well, eager reader who stumbled upon this blog, I will enlighten you. I ask to the Economic Powers That Be - what was the CRITERION taken into cosmic consideration when my husband was pegged to be downsized? What measurements were take to cut off useful and good people, while leaving morons and idiots to remain? I, alas, do not have the answer.

I could consult Webster and his dictionary for the words to aptly express the state of "crapdom" that we, as inhabitants of the 21st Century, are living in. What CRITERION will be considered as our leaders, or more closely, we ourselves, navigate this uncertain time and look for a good tomorrow? Mind now, these are just questions, and I am not the one with the all powerful answers (though my son thinks I am THE genius). I would just hope that we all, great and small, consider this in our list of CRITERION we use to live our lives in these tough times:

1. Love thy neighbor - and barter...we are facing a time when our abilities that we have to share are going to outweigh the money we can offer. SO hey - trade milk for eggs, help shoveling for help raking, and kind smiles for friendly waves.
2. We all poo sitting down...remember we are all equal in our basic forms. Money buys status, but at the end of the day, we have to work together to make it thru life, so don't be a weiner...you are NOT better than anyone.
3. Kids rock...adapt their smiles, free way of thinking and imagination. It helps.
4. Love - all you can. Then if you end up in a box on the corner, at least you are not alone.

SO there ya go - that's my list of CRITERION for making it thru 2009. Take it as you will. Insight, words of wisdom, ranting, or perhaps just the mumblings of a tired working mother.

My Three-OH Face

Yeah - so tell me...when did 30 become THIRTY? I other words, when did the little number 3 and the little number 0 combine in such a way as to attach themselves to me so soon? I hear "Thirty is only the beginning" "It's all easier from here" "This is when your life begins" - really? C'mon now. Let's not be that bold. If life begins at 30, then what was the purpose of my twenties? Hmm? I ask this of the cosmos - if my life is beginning NOW, then what significance did the events of my twenties that STARTED my life hold? Graduating college. Getting a career. Getting married. Buying a home. Having a child. I'd say these are pretty big things. So then I guess I need to look at this wisdom from another angle.

IF life begins at 30 - perhaps those wise humans imparting this wisdom upon me didn't mean the above mentioned milestones. Perhaps they mean that at 30, you KNOW who you are. You KNOW what you want. You KNOW where you are going AND you KNOW why you pay $30 for a good bottle of Zin and scoff at the $4 Arbor Mist. I'm talking the onset of Wisdom my friends. Pure, honest, life-affirming Wisdom.

By saying "Life begins at 30" those already into their 40s are basically telling me that I now KNOW the crap that I spent my 20s trying to figure out, and THAT knowledge will alter my path in positive and upward ways (or that's what I would like to believe). SO -

Here then, is my nod to my 20s. They were good to me. I learned a lot. Grew a lot. Found ME and tested my limits both physically and mentally. I learned my weaknesses and how to turn them into my strengths. I learned that I am worthy of love from others and myself. I learned that appearances fade, and a person's soul is really the heart of who they are. I learned that your priorities can change the instant a little person looks to you for care and protection. I learned that my husband loves me more than I ever thought possible to find. You were good to me 20 thru 29. I respect each year and the growth in me that came from them.

SO THIRTY - I'm here. Take me down whatever road you see fit. Mold me, challenge me, but most of all, give me the heart to hold onto the important things, dismiss the material things, and grow with my little family to a better, brighter tomorrow.

...and, keep the wine coming!