Wrap Me in Bubblewrap and Float Me in a Pool

I must be very hard on my body. Either that or I’m extremely prone to sports injuries.

I took care of the muscle pull in my left thigh. I wrapped it in a thigh sleeve, elevated it, and rested it. With some effort, I was patient enough to let it heal for five weeks. Healed!

Last week I got back to working out. But only for a couple of days until my right foot began to hurt. The same foot that I hurt back in October doing Zumba. However, this is a different pain and in a different location.

I now have extensor tendonitis. The delicate tendons that run along the top of my foot are all irritated and inflamed. My foot is swollen, I walk with a limp, and stairs are not an option.

Treatment is the same as usual. Rest-Ice-Compression-Elevation. I should rest my foot for six weeks. I’m not sure I have that much patience left in me.

Perhaps this is the Universe’s way of telling me that I need to stick with swimming.

Bacon Day 2011

This year Bacon Day fell on the observed Memorial Day. We did all the usual Memorial Day weekend activities. We ate hotdogs and hamburgers, Sweetie sold Buddy Poppies with his VFW mates, we watched bits and pieces of old war movies on TV, and my favorite was watching the little hometown parade down Main Street.

The parade was very hometown-ish with the local VFW Post, Kiwanis Club, high school marching band, fire department, blood mobile, boy scouts, girl scouts, and the forestry department with their bulldozer.

The high school drumline warming up.

I really liked the Boy Scouts' canoe on wheels.

I don't know who the little girl is but she was having a great time on her pony. And somehow I missed getting a photo of the forestry department's bulldozer.

O Brave New World!

PTSD is hell. PTSD isn’t weakness. PTSD is survival.

Someone in the middle of PTSD doesn’t think of the future. Someone in the middle of PTSD doesn’t think about escape. Someone in the middle of PTSD only thinks about surviving this moment, this day.

Someone with PTSD quickly learns how to regulate their emotions. Regulate their emotions to a fault. Once emotions are closed off it’s extremely difficult to open them back up.

PTSD becomes the new normal. The old life is lost and forgotten. No thought is ever given to going back.

Unless, there’s a special someone who asks you to come back. In my case, I have an entire family of special someones that asked me to come back.

I learned how to survive back in 1992. I’ve lived in fight or flight mode for 19 years. That’s almost half of my life. I forgot how to feel and experience emotions. I only knew how to tamp down the emotions.

For the past year I’ve worked hard. I fought against the PTSD. I worked hard to live life without PTSD.

Life is changing for me and it’s a little scary. I’m not just talking about the obvious changes that everyone sees i.e. eldest son going off to college and youngest son learning how to drive. I’m talking about the changes inside of me.

It’s scary as hell to experience emotions after such a long absence. But I have to trust myself. I have to metaphorically take my hands off the handle bars and enjoy the thrilling ride as the wind blows my hair back. I can’t worry if the butterflies in my stomach are a panic attack waiting to happen or pure and innocent excitement.

My changing life is helping me rediscover all of my emotions and it's wonderful as it is scary. Yesterday morning I was feeling particularly emotional and my first, gut reaction was,

What the heck is wrong with me?

But then I paused a moment and thought about EVERYTHING that is going on in my life. I thought seriously about it. I reviewed everything and my reactions to it all. Then I came to my conclusion,

All of my emotions are completely appropriate for everything going on.

I feel like I've stepped into a brave new world. I feel alive. This is awesome.

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Note: Complex PTSD is used to describe my PTSD symptoms because of the long-term trauma I experienced. Even though Complex PTSD is not a separate diagnosis from PTSD, mental health professionals recognize it and realize that different treatment might be needed. For more information, visit the National Center for PTSD.

Fuzzy Chick at 9 Weeks

As you can see the "little guy" isn't so little or fuzzy anymore. He still stays close to his parents and they are very responsible in keeping an eye out for danger and feeding him yummy tidbits. Flying lessons may begin soon. That is a sight to witness and I'd love to be able to capture it with my camera.

Rising Action

If this year of my life were a novel, this period would be the rising action.

A lot of stuff is going on. So much is going on that I don’t even know if I can coherently verbalize it all. Now that I think about it, attempting to cram everything into one blog post would be foolish. And ridiculously long.

Suffice it to say that life is changing. I don’t like change. Even when change is good – like it is now. I still emotionally dig in my heels a little bit no matter how many times my brain logically tells me that this change is good.

Life is changing in many ways for me. And yes, all of them are good. Perhaps I’ll touch on some of them in later posts but for right now the most noticeable change is Mr. A’s high school graduation and departure for the US Naval Academy. Life is swirling with all the related activities of these milestones.

Yes, I’ll miss my eldest son after he leaves home. All of us will. G-Man will miss him too whether or not he wants to admit it. I’m very proud of Mr. A. He set his goal and he worked very hard. He worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known in my life.

Mr. A’s life is changing too. Actually, his will change the most. But I’m a little sad. Yesterday afternoon I realized that I won’t be able to witness his progress through life step-by-step as I have for the past 17+ years.

My realization came about when I saw the above photo on Facebook. I thought to myself, I won’t see A and his classmates climb Herndon.

When I shared this tiny little worry with my Sweetie via text this morning he replied, Well, we will get to see more of it than our parents did. Social media is a beautiful thing.

Duh. After all, I did see the photo on Facebook. The Mom area of my brain must not communicate very well with the Marketing area.

With that one crisis neutralized, my best plan of action for the next month or so is to just roll with the flow. I may not like change but there’s no way to avoid it. I might as well enjoy it the best that I can.

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Your Turn
Do you welcome change in your life? Are you like me and resist it? Or do you seek it out and make it happen? Any advice for me as I live through the rising action, climax, falling action, and dénouement of this “novel”?

Photo courtesy US Naval Academy Alumni Association & Foundation

Marco?

Polo!

Saturday was supposed to be Judgment Day. The Rapture was supposed to have taken place at 6pm. I’m not sure if it was EST or GMT or what. But the entire day went by and nothing happened that I could notice. I’m still here. My family is still here. Either we’re not penitent enough to be ascended into Heaven or the Rapture didn’t take place.

Gee whiz. First, Y2K disappointed by not launching us back into the Dark Ages. Then all the rolling dates of Judgment Day as predicted by the Terminator movies have passed without the machines rising up. Now the Rapture misses its cue as predicted by someone who knows how to do “math.”

Oh well, I guess now we hold tight until December 2012 when the Mayan calendar rolls over.

In the meantime, let’s have everyone sound-off so we know who’s left with the rest of us earth-bound souls.

Marco?

That Gnawing Feeling

Do you know that feeling you get in your stomach when you hear your child is hurt? My stomach usually flip-flops. And it’s happened twice this week.

Monday morning Mr. A knocked on my bedroom door to tell me that G-Man threw up.

Flip-flop.

Pause.

Go into Mom Mode.

This afternoon Mr. A called after school as soon as the last bell rang.

“How do you know if your thumb is broken?”

Flip-flop.

For his final Engineering project, Mr. A made an air cannon. Imagine the t-shirt cannons you see at ball games. However, eldest son used a SCUBA tank for his compressed air source. The project was a success but it eventually one of the fittings blew apart injuring Mr. A’s thumb.

My Sweetie has Mr. A at the urgent care getting an x-ray at the moment and I’m waiting. Logically, I know he’s fine, even if the thumb turns out to be broken. But I still have this gnawing feeling in my stomach. A gnawing feeling that will remain until I get word from my husband.

Both of my children are now young men. G-Man made it to the bathroom on time. He didn’t need his Mom to help him. Sure he accepted a hug but I didn’t have to rock him on my lap to help quell his tears like I did so many years ago. Mr. A will be away at school and in the Navy in only six more weeks.

Will I always get that flip-flop feeling when children get hurt? Will I always have that gnawing feeling when I worry about them?

Randomness

Life has been busy at the PLRH house and at work too. I’m pooped. I’m tired. I haven’t been able to come up with a coherent blog post in days.

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The pulled muscle in my thigh seems to be healing. I bought a thigh sleeve a couple of weeks ago and have been wearing it since. The added compression and support makes a tremendous difference. I really thought that I could get back to being active in another week but then I woke this morning and my thigh hurt. What could I have done to it while I was asleep???

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Last night at the high school we attended the Senior Awards ceremony. My husband, several of the presenters, and the faculty commented on the 5-inch high heeled shoes many of the girls were wearing. I didn’t have an issue with the shoes but rather the hemlines on the skirts and dresses of the young ladies. One girl walked on stage wearing a white, skin-tight skirt. If someone had dropped a Quarter the entire auditorium would have gotten an eyeful.

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During their 4-year high school career, the Class of 2011 (about 435 students) worked over 46,000 volunteer hours. That’s the most any class has done in the school’s history. How cool is that?

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Energy Star recommends that ceiling fans spin counter-clockwise for optimal cooling. But when the heat is on in the house, the direction of the fan should be reversed to clockwise to help the warm air gathered at the ceiling circulate around the room. What I’d like to know… Is the opposite true in Australia?

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If you break the words down, it’s hard to believe that Awful and Awesome have opposite meanings.

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Dear Michael Kors… Love you, love your clothes. You’ve drawn on everything that was fabulous in the late 70s and early 80s and made it modern. You design clothes that make a 41-yr-old mother of two teenagers feel young, hip, sexy, and fashionable. I only have one question… Why, oh why do you insist using cheap, stiff polyester tags in your clothing that scratch the heck out of my neck and cause me to use an X-acto knife to cut them out?

Overheard in the Lunch Room

Normally, I don't blog about politics or current events or gossip. But the conversation that I couldn't help listening to in the lunch room today really stuck with me. My co-workers were exceptionally passionate about the topic and I decided to share a snippet of it with you.

“Did you hear the news about Arnold?”

“As soon as the news came out that they were getting divorced, my brother said that Arnold cheated. But I thought No Way!”

“Seriously, if you’re married to her why would you even need to cheat? She’s beautiful!”

“Their children are gorgeous!”

“Well, now he’s got another child.”

“I don’t think he’s good looking.”

“It just goes to show that a man’s brain completely stops working when…”

“He’s political career is over.”

“No kidding. He should have never crossed that family.”

“He’ll end up at the bottom of a river someday.”

Social Graces

The same day as my interesting lunchtime errands, Mr. A, my Sweetie and I went to a Navy League dinner in at a hotel in Tampa. As the reception hour was winding down, I decided to go to the ladies’ room before dinner started. After washing my hands, I walked out of the ladies’ room, across the hotel lobby, down the hall, and into the ballroom. Just as I sat in my chair a woman came up to me and said, “Here, let me help you with that.” She then pulled a streamer of toilet paper off my backside and handed it to me. Eldest son was mortified and I couldn’t stop laughing.

Tales from My Lunch Hour

The other day I needed to run some errands at lunch so I could hurry up and get home after work. I was leaving work early that day because we were driving up to Tampa for a dinner and I was a little short on time. My plan was to fill up the car with gas, pick up a sandwich at Subway, and swing by the post office to mail a package and buy stamps.

During the course of my errands, I ran into a few interesting individuals.

At the gas station, a young man pulled up across from me, he filled up with $5 worth of gas, and then drove off. As I watched him drive away, I wondered how far he thought he was going to get when gas costs $4 per gallon.

From the gas station I went to Subway. I’m not really a fan of Subway but I really like their sweet tea and it was convenient. However, the woman in line ahead of me was so demanding and picky that she held up the process. This woman ordered a salad and kept on insisting on more toppings. Every time the “sandwich artist” added more cheese the woman insisted “more, more” so the girl behind the counter added another handful. The salad now resembled an uncooked cheese casserole with some lettuce. Then at the register the woman interrogated the cashier about the iced tea and the cookies.

“Is the tea fresh? Are you sure it was brewed this morning? Do you have any cookies with cranberries? Those are my favorite. Why don’t you have any with cranberries? The white chocolate cookies don’t look like they were baked long enough. I would get the white chocolate cookie IF they had been baked properly. I guess I’ll take a raisin cookie.”

Finally, I paid for my meal and got my coveted sweet tea.

Next stop, the rural post office that is almost empty even at lunch time. But as luck would have it that day there was a long line and none of the transactions were easy ones. The customer at the counter was a woman who wanted to buy a $1,000 money order. The last time she bought a postal money order the fee was $1.50. She had exact change with her. What she didn’t realize was that the fee went up to $1.55. She stood at the counter not comprehending that even though she had $1,000 cash in her hand, she was 5 cents short to make her purchase. No matter how many times the clerk behind the counter explained the price increase, the customer didn’t understand. It also didn’t matter how high in volume the clerk raised her voice, the customer still didn’t understand. The solution was easy as I leaned forward and said, “Here’s a nickel.”

The other big hold-up at the post office was the man trying to mail a CHAINSAW to AFRICA. The same clerk told the man that it fit within the size requirements. But the clerk who was assisting me kept telling the first clerk that she needed to check the international shipping regulations because she really didn’t think a chainsaw was allowed. Seriously, if you’re shipping something like that overseas, wouldn’t a freight company make more sense? I paid for my stamps and headed for the door as the chainsaw discussion really heated up.

All of that took so long that I ended up eating my now soggy sandwich at my desk. Oh well, at least my lunch hour was entertaining.

I Did It

Note: The Blogger software platform experienced some technical difficulty this week and my post from Wednesday was lost along with the comments. Blogger is back up and running and is working on restoring the lost posts. But just to be on the safe side, I decided to re-post I Did It.

All of my life I wanted to be a Mom. Sure, at various points in time I wanted to be an archeologist, a museum curator, a forest ranger, a medical illustrator, an interior design, a chef, an international businessperson (whatever that might be), and a kindergarten teacher. But through the years my desire to be a Mom was constant.

So I didn’t pursue any of the above mentioned occupations but I did become Mom in October 1993. Then I became a Mom again in June 1996. I would have liked to have had four children but that just wasn’t in the cards.

I saw my job as Mom to love, nurture, protect, and guide. My ultimate goal was to raise two healthy, happy, considerate, well-adjusted young men who would be productive members of society. Two men who might one day eventually become loving & respectful husbands and fathers.

I didn’t read parenting books or magazines. I didn’t have the internet as a resource. I didn’t watch talk shows. I went forth in my role as Mom on pure instinct. I learned my parenting skills through example from my parents. I’ve never done anything so naturally, so innately as mothering.

But I was up against a huge obstacle – the Not-So-Nice person I originally married. He tried to put plenty of barriers in my way. Ten years of an abusive marriage. Nine years of PTSD and recovery. I was still a Mom though. I still had my goal and the things that Not-So-Nice person did made me even more determined to do my job well.

Now I have the privilege of sharing this parenting gig with the love of my life. My wonderful husband is a totally awesome Dad. Last night at the Scholar Athlete awards ceremony for the high school, we did a little fist bump when Mr. A was awarded the Overall Male Scholar Athlete of the Year.

Then as I thought about our TWO FANTASTIC SONS last night, a strange feeling started to come over me. A surreal, overwhelming feeling. A feeling that I didn’t understand. A feeling that I couldn’t comprehend.

Finally, this morning the Universe slapped me upside the head and at last I understood.

I DID IT. I’m successful. I’m successful as a Mom.

What did I do when I had the epiphany that I realized my life-long goal?

Simple. I sat at a red light and cried as I stared at the “Navy Mom” bumper sticker on the car in front of me.

Randomness: Hats, Bangs & BSB

People are still talking about the hats worn at the Royal Wedding. The most notable headgear was designed by Irish-born milliner, Philip Treacy. I coveted the hat Camilla Parker-Bowles wore during the blessing ceremony portion of her wedding to Prince Charles in 2005.

Then I saw Treacy’s creations on Project Runway last year. Fabulous and bizarre! Finally, I went on Philip Treacy’s website and picked which hat I’d like to wear. Now all I need is an occasion!

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I think Olivia Wilde is the only person on the planet that looks good with bangs. Must have something to do with her sensual eyes.

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I looked at the calendar last night and realized that we have something planned EVERY SINGLE WEEKEND now through the 4th of July. That doesn’t include the three things we have going on this week. While all of that activity might provide tons of blogging material I think I might need a vacation come the middle of July.

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The Birthday Girl loved the Backstreet Boys video we made for her. All of us were laughing so hard when we watched it that I was afraid someone might choke on birthday cake. My co-conspirators and I really got into our characters. Robert was AJ incarnate. The other girls channeled their BSB’s dance moves. Me? Everyone agreed that I looked just like Brian. Great. I look like a BSB. Only with boobs and hips.

As part of the birthday festivities, we each shared the memory of our favorite birthday (or one of them). The memories were wonderful and included an American Girl birthday (age 6), No Doubt concert (age 22), dance party with DJ (age 13), and a Sweet Sixteen with a live band.

My favorite birthday memory? On my 3rd birthday I was running a high fever over 100. I received a green and yellow tricycle. It had a green & yellow, glitter, banana seat and green & yellow streamers hanging from the handle bars. Since I was sick, I got to ride the tricycle INSIDE around the family room on the hardwood floors. It was totally awesome!

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Your Turn
Would you wear a Philip Treacy hat?
What's your philosophy on bangs?
What's your favorite birthday memory?

Mr. A Meets the Congressman

This evening our Congressman hosted a reception honoring all of the local Service Academy appointees that he nominated. Yes, Mr. A was one of the appointees honored. In all there were five going to West Point (Army), three going to the Naval Academy, one to the Air Force Academy, and one to the Merchant Marine Academy.

Mr. A met the Congressman. He received a certificate, his very first challenge coin, and an American flag that's flown over the US Capitol Building. How cool is that?

Every day that passes I become prouder and prouder of my eldest son.

Heron Lagoon

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We went away for a family weekend to Heron Lagoon out on one of the local Keys. Our plan was to spend some quality, family time together before Mr. A heads off for school. Laptops were banned for an unplugged weekend.

The spot we stayed at was a little cluster of cottages on the lagoon.

We had so much fun fishing and canoeing/kayaking up and down the lagoon that we never made it too the beach. In fact, no one wanted to go! It was a great weekend with just the four of us floating along the water. Really, it was the best Mother's Day present ever.

Young & Hip with the Backstreet Boys

Remember how I feel young and hip when I socialize with my 20-something co-workers? Well, except for when I have to explain a mimeograph machine or confess that I watched the Royal Wedding on TV 30 YEARS AGO!

Anyway, one of the girls will turn 26 next week.

(Yes, 26. Do you remember 26? I do. I was 26 when G-Man was born.)

To help her celebrate, one of the other 20-something girls suggested that we make a music video. Birthday Girl is a big fan of the Backstreet Boys. In fact, she’s going to Boston next month to see the New Kids On The Block / Backstreet Boys concert.

So five of us are going to lip-sync to I Want It That Way. I get to be Brian (second from the left in the above photo). Our group includes three 20-something girls who all listened to the BSB in high school, Robert (he’s one of the girls, if you know what I mean), and yours truly. In other words, I’m the only person in the group who is not familiar with the song.

Yesterday, I downloaded the song to my iPod and have been listening to it on a loop. I want to get the lip-syncing down because I know I’ll be disastrous when it comes to the dancing. I’m not the most graceful thing on dry land. There’s a reason why I get all these sports injuries and prefer the swimming pool and water as my element of choice.

Last night I watched the real music video on YouTube and tried to “sing” along. I couldn’t finish because I started laughing so hard. In my mind, I kept imaging the unemployment line scene from The Full Monty. (I could only find the movie clip in Spanish)

Ahhh…. The things we do for our friends.

And before anyone asks… NO! I will not post the video of our rendition of I Want It That Way!

Unless of course, I look fabulous!


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Your Turn
What's the wackiest thing you've done for someone's birthday, bachelor/bachelorette party, wedding, etc? Did you listen to the Backstreet Boys? Have you seen The Full Monty?

Fuzzy Chick at Six Weeks

Fuzzy Chick isn't so fuzzy anymore! His flight feathers are coming in and he's as tall as his parents. Although he still has a way to go before he's filled out.

I got down to the lake a little late yesterday evening. The Sandhill Crane family had already finished foraging and were starting to bed down for the evening.

Little Unexpected Milestones

The PLRH boys are growing up. Heck, I could even argue that they’re already grown up. G-Man will be 15 years old June 25th and two days later we leave for Maryland to deliver Mr. A to the Naval Academy.

Something happened this morning that reminded me that it’s the little things that take me unawares and let me know that my little boys are now young men. The “any day” occurrence that sneaks up and makes me take note of the passage of time. These brief moments mean more to my mother’s heart than any traditional milestone.

The first day of kindergarten? I was cool as a cucumber on the days each of my boys started school.

Same thing for first day of middle school, first day of high school, National Honor Society Induction, driver’s license, 8th grade dance, prom, etc…

But I will never forget the feeling of the hot tears rolling down my cheeks the morning I couldn’t reach to kiss Mr. A on the top of his head before he left for school.

Or the first time G-Man was able to order his own dinner in a noisy, crowded Applebee’s after a year of intense speech therapy and the waitress understood him! His speech therapist, Miss Tina and I cried about that one together the following week.

So what happened this morning? Due to a car maintenance scheduling issue, I needed to drive the boys to school before going onto work. As we were about to walk out the door, G-Man bolted for the bathroom and puked. I made the instant decision for him to stay home and the rest of us would carry on. But the Mom in me made me stop back by the house after I dropped Mr. A at school.

Back at home I made sure that G-Man was all settled and I talked to my Mom on the phone. Even though I knew that Grandmother (my Mom) was only a phone call and two miles away, I still got a pang of growing pains when I picked up my car key and said good-bye to my youngest.

I felt a little sad that my “baby” was old enough to stay home sick by himself and that I wasn’t needed. But by the time I got to the door, I was proud that he’s mature enough and that I trust him to stay home. Of course, that didn’t stop me from texting him throughout the morning to check on him or my mother from picking him up at lunchtime so she could make him something to eat at her house.


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Your Turn
What makes you take notice of the passage of time? The big milestones or the little unexpected things?

Wondering if the big news will make a difference

My husband and eldest son told me of Osama Bin Laden’s death this morning and how SEAL Team Six did the deed. I didn’t share in their enthusiasm. It wasn’t apathy on my part but cynicism. My response was, They (al-Qiada) will just replace him with someone else.

I didn’t believe that eliminating one person would make a difference.

It’s been almost 10 years. Will eliminating one person bring all of our troops home from Afghanistan? Will eliminating one person end the threat of terrorism against the United States?

At work I overheard some co-workers discussing the news. So I went online and read about it. The first article I read mentioned 9/11, the US Embassy bombings in Africa, and the USS Cole. I experienced a flash of the fear I felt on September 11th. How dare they come into our country and attack us on our soil?

Later in the morning my Sweetie called me to say hello. He must have heard the emotion that made my voice thick and heavy. We talked for a few minutes and then he said, You know, taking out Bin Laden was more symbolic than anything.

I agreed that the families of all the victims over the years needed closure and hopefully this event will provide it.

Curiosity got the better of me and I read a few more news articles online. I read about the compound in which Bin Laden resided. After 10 years of being on the FBI’s most wanted list, he still lived in a fortress. He must have been either a) full of self-importance or b) paranoid. But then I thought, Maybe he really was a huge cog in the wheel and eliminating him will make a difference.

Then I remembered what every Joe and Sailor in the US military knows…

Take the fight to their backyard so they can’t come to ours.

I must admit that I’m extremely proud that the US Navy SEALs were the ones to show up at the party.

To Disney, Or Not To Disney

Friday Mr. A went to Grad Nite at Disney World. That same day I mentioned in an email to a friend of mine that I no longer have the desire to go to Disney. My family has no interest in going and I've finally given up asking.

Then Mr. A sent me this photo:

Now I want to go... but at NIGHT!