Fog. Bridge. Stubborn. Sorry.

July 29, 2006 | Category: In My Life

I wrote a long entry here. And to sum up, I've been ill. My ability to write, walk, shit even remember my way home from the bank has all been compromised over the last month.

I've talked about having Lupus before, but before it was inconvenience to my life.

I made some mistakes with my health, and then made the situation worse with a dose of pride and recklessness. I kept thinking if I could get through the day, then it wasn't so bad.

It was my first time facing a flare without a backup resource, and if it was a test - I failed.

I did manage to write about it, but it took more courage than I have at just this minute to have it out there.

I'm sorry.

Welcome Home

July 21, 2006 | Category: Picture Post

(This is part two...)

I have never understood the whole Missouri/Mississippi river thing. The first is part of the second, or not. Here's what I DO know - we crisscrossed them and all their little friends. A lot.

We were in the midst of river crossing #zabillion when the little man in the backseat shouted that the portable DVD player wasn't working. He was cranky from so many hours in the car seat, and hungry, and for the next 10 minutes as we made our way over the bridge I tried telling him in soothing tones that Mommy couldn't fix it right now, because driving off bridges is bad.

He started throwing DVD's at me.

I pulled off at the first exit on the other side of the water, and we found a McDonald's (the first we'd seen in about 6 hours). After a strong talk about hucking things at people and a threat about corporal punishment, Bear sniffed back tears of apology and we cuddled and then I attempted to fix his DVD player.

Not so much with me and the technical thing.

I admitted defeat. We trooped into MickyD's and I ordered us some food and asked for directions to the nearest WalMart or Target or wherever I could buy a new DVD player.

"Walmart? Hey, Deanne, isn't there one oh..."

Deanne, the shift manager, came up from the back. "Oh yeah. So what you want to do is get back on the highway and go about 62... maybe 63 miles. Go right at the exit and left at the light. Can't miss it."

"63 miles...?" I echoed, disbelieving.

"Yeah. I can't think of where you could buy one of those things closer."

I blinked at her for a long moment, then took my hamburger Happy Meal and milk and walked off to the play area in a daze.

"Uh, Bear..."

"Yeah, Mommy?"

"We're going to have music time when we get back in the car."

For the next hour, we scanned through the tall collection of homemade discs I'd brought. The songs that Bear and I can both agree on are an eclectic mix of Southern Rock, 80's bands like the Police, Queen and Talking Heads, Laurie Berkner, some Disco, Neil Diamond, and selected one-off's from bands like Rascal Flatts and Rusted Root.

At one point, "Another One Bites the Dust" came one and Bear immediately loved it. I ended up playing it for him a half-dozen times.

63 miles later, we found WalMart. But by then, our old DVD had miraculously self-healed. And besides, we were having fun singing along and playing car bingo.

We travelled the length of South Dakota, the depths of Iowa. CD flew out to meet us in Nebraska and from there it was the long stretch through the dusk and the dark and then the lightening back home.

Just in time to pick up my Mom from the airport (because my mom will always find the cheap ticket - even if it means getting to the airport at 4am in the blessed morning). Then it was a parade and fireworks, and a fair with a rock-climbing wall. There were training wheels to come off a bike. There were hours spent curled up in people pile on the couch, just happy to be a family together.

And then it was back in the car, for a trip to Indiana, back to Illinois, and then up to Wisconsin for the opening weekend of the Bristol Renaissance Faire.

And finally, we straggled out to the parking lot. Nothing ahead but a last drive home and then.... life, again. Unpack, finally. And clean. And back to swimming lessons and popsicles and....

Bear fell asleep in the back. I scrolled through the camera, looking at all the pictures.

"I look tired," I said, peering at one of me in a garland. "My eyes are smudged and pouchy," I complained.

"No," CD argued. "Beautiful."

I wrinkled my nose at him.

"You need a good night's rest," he admitted.

"Bear farts in his sleep," I told him. "Also? He kicks."

CD laughed. "Kept you up?"

"Yeah." I reached over and held his hand.

"Were they good trips, though?"

I nodded. And he smiled. And we went home.

And remember, people, that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive, there're still some things that makes us all the same. You. Me. Them. Everybody.

July 14, 2006 | Category: Family, It's a Trip

(This is part one...)

I packed in a huff and a rush, having let myself get so overwhelmed by the prospect of this all that I procrastinated the heck out of my "to-do" list - that right there says something profound. I am famous for getting things done.

So I stuffed his Elmo suitcase and my bulky black one and did the best I could to remember what I was forgetting and at 7AM that fateful Saturday, we headed into the west.

You know those movies where the road trip becomse a montage of music and little snapshots and at the end, the car is beaten down and dusty and the occupants somehow moved through some life change?

Yeah?

Well, that is EXACTLY what happened. But more on that later.

So....

If you look to the left, you'll see a LOT of IOWA. That tall green stuff? Corn. 'Nuf said.

Pit stop in Nebraska. Omaha. If you're of a certain age, you'll join me in singing "Mutual of Omaha means peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeople..."

No?

ahem.

Visit to the Omaha Zoo, where kids can take feed sticks into an aviary and enjoy having any of dozens of brightly colored domestic birds landing on them. Bear (and I) were entranced.

Our friends there are almost like family, and it was a warm nest of a visit.

But moving right along. Yes folks, that right there is even MORE Iowa, just outside the window.

And, finally, South Dakota.

The bright kelly green stalks of corn give way to grassland. Sandy-colored miles of it with the rare tree. And the flat Earth begins to roll and pitch, and swerve.

We stopped wherever our fancy struck. For the Corn Palace. For that big ol' drugstore in Wall. To meander through the Badlands. For a sundown service at the "big Heads", with Bear curled up in my lap as a ranger talked to us about Theodore Roosevelt. To talk with an archeologist volunteer about the bone she was excavating.

We slept together in hotel beds, his growing limbs restless. We swam for hours in the hotel pools. We held hands as we crossed the street. And we missed CD dreadfully.

And then it was time to pack up the van, plug in the DVD player, fill up our Big Gulp cups with ice and juice. 1400 miles to home, gassed up, windshield wiper fluid topped off.

"Bear?"

"Yeah, Mommy?"

"We got a long, long drive now..."

"OK, Mommy. If you get tired, I could drive for a little while."

"Sounds good, hun. Just give it about 11 years."

Foot over the gas peddle, sunglasses on. Hit it.

... and not so much with the "right back"

| Category: In My Life

We came home from, uh, .... Nebraska, South Dakota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Indiana... to discover that Mega finally had the DSL turned off. It had been a perk of my previous position.

You'd think, in 2006, getting connectivity would be a fairly simple matter. Not so much.

But we back. We're somewhat unpacked.

And now I have to take a shower.