I think it's about forgiveness...

February 26, 2009 | Category: In My Life

Despite having a great weekend, a better life now than before, Helen's revealing and provocative post got me thinking.

It's amazing. When you get a bit stronger, how much more you realize you have to deal with.

Forgiveness. What is it, really? What does it mean to give it - and receive it?

I tangle with the weightier concepts, the overlays of God and Jesus and women and men and trust and mess and relationships and betrayal, then all of a sudden, I am sliced to the heart with memories and this sudden heartache.

Like it won't stay in the box, the one I laid it all to rest in so long ago.

If I forgive you, and we work on getting past this, can you guarantee me it will never, ever, happen again? Can you? The question is a trap, you know. I want you to say yes. To promise yes. As I promise it to you. As I dream of Before.

But we know that what you can do once, you can do again, I can do again, and will do again. Part of my trust knows this. Lies to you. Wants everything to be all right even as it clutches its brokenness.

I'm With Him

February 25, 2009 | Category: Thy Wedded Life

If you've been here before, you know that life - especially mine - is not a fairy tail. There was no white horse, no happily ever after, no castle with roses climbing the side.

What we got was messy, chaotic, brilliant, and hard. And full to the brim, even at the worst of times, with love. I could say that's 'cuz of me. Strange but true - I have never stopped loving anyone in my life. Anyone I have ever loved, I still DO love. Just... differently. Maybe, it could be argued, somewhat theoretically. Considering distance and time and...

I digress.

My point (and I hope there's one around here somewhere) is that we are now in a somewhat good time. Last fall, a crack appeared in the ceiling and we had to dig it out, find the source, patch it. They say that broken bones once healed are stronger than before. If that were true of relationships, my marriage would be made of titanium.

It's not.

We're human. We screw up. But we know how to choose to fix things, now. We know the difference between pain and anger. Into this wisdom, we've found a way to walk very gently with each other. To be very on-purpose with our communications. We stopped letting in people who are full of negativity. And we started cherishing the good, now that it's here for a visit.

Last Saturday was the Icelandic version of Thanksgiving. This has been a pain in the ass in the past because it forces CD and I against our natural roles. Neither of us likes to be social in groups, but when forced - I'm the ice breaker and networker, he's the guy standing just to my left carrying two drinks with a pink cell phone, a tube of "Brick-O-La", and a Revlon compact stuffed in his pockets.

But for Thorrablot, he's got to be the first one through the door. He's the one who - quite literally - speaks the language. For those hours, it is his childhood memories being invoked. His traditions. His heritage. I'm the American appendage, somewhat clueless and mispronouncing most people's names.

Some years, his frustration at being forced out of his hard protective shell has triggered some last-minute scuffles. This year, I had decided that I could over-prepare us into a better start. I found a babysitter way in advance (it was adults-only because of space constraints), had formal outfits dry-cleaned for both of us, and made our contribution - a chopped salad with 9 different ingredients - a day in advance.

Then, at the last minute, disaster struck. My go-to pants? Were NOT what I brought home from the dry-cleaners. My husband had several suits, all lovely. But because of a bunch of reasons that all gathered to sabotage me - every back-up outfit I own was unavailable. CD ripped the house apart as I finally had to get in a shower. When I emerged - fully made up and blown dry and totally naked - he sighed.

Well, he made a pass. THEN he sighed.

"Here's the deal," he said, with the face that let me know I wasn't gonna like it. "I pulled our jeans from the wash and tossed them into the dryer on high. They should be done in about 10 minutes."

"You mean my jeans," I corrected. "It's a fancy occasion. The Icelanders will all be dressed up. You have to wear the suit."

"Babe," he shook his head. "We'll both wear jeans - it'll be fine."

I swallowed growing dread. "That's stupid. You won't feel right in jeans. It's not Icelandic."

"Screw being Icelandic," he answered, and I swear he almost laughed. "I'm with you. We're wearing jeans."

So we did. And?

We had a wonderful time.

The Brass Tacks of Doing It Cheaper

| Category: On The Job

I never really got the hang of food shopping.

It's not rocket science, OK? But with the best of intentions, I would carefully make a list and go to the store. Then I would still be running back to the store a few times a week to get things I "needed".

By the time I left the Big Gig we were spending up to $400 a week on food! Part of that was just the cost of living in Chicago. But there was also so much waste - food that would go bad, and cans in my pantry that I could swear have been there since the 90's.

It's become my mission to change the way I budget and prepare food. without sacrificing our standards or giving up our indulgences.

These days, I usually spend less than $100 a week on groceries.

[[PDF download (Free) of our actual budget and meal plan after the jump]]

Continue reading "The Brass Tacks of Doing It Cheaper"

I Can't Give Them You

February 18, 2009 | Category: In My Life

Have you ever wondered, if people could watch your life like it was a television show... what your ratings would be?

What kind of show would you be? Would your home be the primary set? Or the local coffee house?

BlogHer is doing a workshop about how to re-invent a blog after the initial reason you started it - ends. I've been struggling with this for years.

I began a website when CD and I were getting married. I shudder to remember the little animation I coded, that made my dress twirl. That I didn't embed Midi music must have been the intercession of a compassionate deity. That site? Won an award.

After I got in the habit of living out loud. I sorta... didn't stop. I've journaled my whole life. This was just a new interpretation of that.

I remember the first person who ever signed my "guestbook". I had never met her in real life, yet she was interested in reading about me. And me, in her. Despite our subsequent life changes since, we remained, virtually, friends.

I began an anonymous blog in a moment of crisis. I had a great job. Challenging, rewarding. I worked from home most of the time, always engaged with room to grow, and had a great team that I loved working with.

And yet?

I was unhappy.

Because as much as I loved my career and everything it meant - I never had a single day when I went to bed thinking I had done right by my son. I told myself it was just guilt. I told myself it was the universal complaint of working parents. I reminded myself of the amazing life my son had.

And then, I cried.

We cannot reason our hearts.

I quit and took on a new life, with wide open eyes. Homeschooling, living on a shoestring, keeping house, cooking dinner, paying bills. I signed up for this woman's army and Hoo-rah, I don't need or expect it to be easy. I stand behind that decision as one of the best I've ever made.

But it's played hell with me as a writer. Hell.

When you stop being mad, and put out the fire in the living room and the marriage and fill in the hole of your life with the whole of your life, well....

Thank you for listening the past month. I know I went quiet for a few days here, but I have not been away. I have been here, re-reading. A lot of very bland, and silly posts. But a couple of goods ones, I think.

I'm not Friends. I'm not Lost. And I've never even been to Las Vegas.

But that doesn't mean that there aren't things left worth saying. Or that this writer can't write them. Here.

He Passed!

February 15, 2009 | Category: Bear Stories

3+ years, sometimes driving up to an hour from his Montessori school.

2 sets of uniforms. 12 tournaments. 8 color belts. 5 color headbands.

Hours of practice, and telling him to practice.

Then: 3 forms without weapons, a form with a weapon, 2 sparring matches. Break a board with a punch. Break a board with a kick.

Wait.

Finally, the man says - "and to the rank of decided black belt..."

And the tears start.

(That's Bear. Behind him is the board he'd broken with a punch. Just about to kick the board on the left and then swing his arms over his head when he realized he'd done it. Just before the entire TKD school exploded in cheers and hugs.)

The Winner is (Week 4)...

February 13, 2009 | Category: Free, Contest, Giveaway

Thank you to everyone who de-lurked, and commented this week. And to those who left such kind comments about Ian. I appreciate you, more than I can say

Now, on to the last winner of the late, great Corporate Mommy giveaway!!

That's YOU, Jean!!! Congratulations!

(All of last week's unique, non-related to me comments after the jump)

Continue reading "The Winner is (Week 4)..."

Last Dance, Last Chance, For Love

February 12, 2009 | Category: Mother to the First Power

Tomorrow night, Bear tests at the Karate School. If he is successful, he will walk away a black belt.

I was talking to an old friend this afternoon, and we go back. Way back. I'm talking rainbow suspenders, Mork & Mindy, and Donna Summer. I'm talking roller skates, the kind that have four big wheels on them.

Continue reading "Last Dance, Last Chance, For Love"

The Backless Dress and The Long Drive

February 11, 2009 | Category: In My Life

About 8 weeks ago, I got a call. I wrote this, and now it's time I think to share it here....

It was late spring just about 15 years ago. I headed to England with $350 in my pocket, an open-return ticket, and a new journal tucked between my spare jeans and the extra underwear in my backpack.

Long story short, I ended up dating a Coldstream Guard. Who invited me, one summer evening, to a dance. I found a little black halter dress in a thrift store and twisted up my hair with an antique rhinestone clip. But like Cinderella, I had a curfew - the B&B I was living at locked its doors at midnight.

And like Cinderella, I lost track of time. I realized it with a panic. One of the more senior men, Ian, had a car and offered to drive me across London.

We raced, but not quick enough. I rang and rang, and eventually realized I was stranded.

"What will you do?" Ian asked.

"Get a hotel room," I mused. I had an emergency credit card stashed, well, somewhere. I knew I couldn't stay at the barracks, and all my contact numbers were up in my room - on the wrong side of that impassive door.

"Dressed like that? With no luggage?"

"What's my alternative?"

"I'm headed home for the weekend," he said, opening the passenger door with a smile. "You can kip with me and my family, if you like."

I nodded slowly. It was uncomfortable, accepting a ride and the offer of a place to stay from a near-stranger. He had ginger hair and a big laugh and that's about all I knew of him. I wondered if I was going to end up in the pages of the newspaper, with the headline 'Unknown Woman washes up on Thames!'

"The thing is, it's a bit of a drive," he said as we headed onto the M1.

"It's far?"

"250 miles, give or take," Ian laughed.

It was nearing dawn when we finally got to Darlington. My gut was full of butterflies. Ian had proved to be a complete gentleman on the trip. Dropping the military persona, he told me stories of how his 3 children had been born and what they were like. And especially about his wife, Susan. How she'd saved lives when they'd lived in Ireland, by noticing something 'off' about a car parked on their lane. It had turned out to be a bomb. They'd lost everything they'd owned when it had gone off, but not a soul was hurt because she'd had the presence to sound the alarm.

I wondered what she would make of her husband showing up at all hours with a blond American in a dress down to here.

I needn't have worried.

She pulled the door open with a merry smile and offered me tea. Her husband looking at her like she was a hot cross bun and he hadn't eaten in days. By the end of the weekend, it was a done deal. Like Sandra Bullock's character in 'While You Were Sleeping' - I was in love with whole family. Ian and Susan and their kids and friends. All of it: their home full of happy noises and the smell of tea cooking, the greenhouse in their back garden filled with pots of dirt and bulbs, and the barbecue where Ian liked to char three kinds of meat while chomping on a cigar. I was in love and grinning and giddy.

As Ian ushered me out on Sunday, for the long drive back to London, Susan made me promise to return. And after my long, hot London summer had ended, I did - eventually moving in with them for several months.

Even after I came back the States, we stayed as close as we could. Exchanged phone calls and Christmas cards. I have pictures of the kids growing up. Clippings, and letters tucked in a box.

When Susan left me the message the other night, I knew. You always know. It's that tone of voice, you know?

I think I was crying, even as she told me.

Leaving the Darlington F.C. game, Ian had a bad fall. He died in hospital later that night, probably of a massive heart attack. He was only 53.

He leaves behind the sweetest woman on Earth, 3 great kids, a brother, and countless mates, co-workers, and former brothers in arms - as well as a desolate dog who is still waiting for him by the door.

He was the kind of guy who wouldn't leave a soul stranded, even if it meant hauling them 250 miles. The kind of guy who would bring a stranger home to his family, and make them welcome. There are too few people like that.

And now, there is one less.

De-Lurk Tuesday

February 10, 2009 | Category: Rants & Raves

Help! I'm starting to freak out. Are the comments working in the new layout? Is it too ugly to look at? Did I break the RSS feed??? Is it not showing up right in some browsers? Mprq?! (Not sure if that's a word, but for today... it applies)

So I'm officially declaring it a de-lurk day. Please let me know if this thing is on, OK?

[thank you]

Like those who curse their luck in too many places; And those who fear are lost

February 09, 2009 | Category: In My Life

It's dark and windy outside. And still, surprisingly, warm.

I head down the sidewalk away from the library. A bag hanging from my hand, weighed down with a few new books that I'll probably won't find the time to read.

My car is behind me. Nestled into a parking space between two SUV's, up against the railroad tracks. And though the car keys jingle in my purse, I keep moving away. Into the night.

A gust lifts my hair, a mist sprays my face. The hems on my jeans are long and dragging; damper with each step.

I don't know where I'm headed.

An old Sting song is echoing in my mind. Memories of a time before. When I belonged to no one, and nothing. I cross over the street. The streetlight is flickering and dying. The buzzing noise entrances me for a long moment. I look up. In those thick clouds is a moon full and just as fickle. It won't stay on for me.

When I need the light, it's never there.

Breathe deep; the world smells like something from a memory.

And I'm washed clean.

Big Boy Room

February 08, 2009 | Category: Mother to the First Power

His room? Is painted.

There are parts of the trim that hadn't been dusted, painted, washed, or even looked at closely since we moved in over 8 years ago. Well, specifically that long piece of trim about 1 foot from the ceiling, that serves some decorative purpose that remains a mystery to both CD and me.

This has been the master bedroom for a few years, even though it is technically the smaller of the two main bedrooms. We can't remember why we switched, so please don't ask.

Although we chose an organic, no-VOC paint for the walls - the trim was done in regular give-you-a-massive headache white latex enamel. The truth is, we have about 3 cans of the stuff in the basement. Bought on sale at some point back when we didn't care if we polluted the environment or killed Mother Earth. You know, last year?

So now, I have a massive headache forming. Time for some Alleve and a stiff drink. And to bask in the glow of being almost there.

Bear is getting a bookcase/desk combo from Ikea. We have to pick it up this week, and then put it together. It's funny, I showed him some other pieces he could have if we saved for a while but he really loves this set. There's a twin of it at his tae kwon do school and he totally digs the idea of having cubbies that he can use to sort his massive collections of Lego's and books and of, course, trophies.

By the end of this week, there should be a whole new room to show for all this. Before we put up the paintbrushes tonight, Bear gave me a big hug. I asked him what it was for and he said; "for knowing how much I really, really, wanted a big boy room."

Chinook Wind

February 07, 2009 | Category: In My Life

I have spent almost my entire life north of the 40th parallel. CD grew up around the 74th, and although surrounded by a warm channel of water - I think we can all agree, that's damn cold. The farthest north I've lived is about the 53rd, and....nope, CD still wins.

Boston, Chicago, Buffalo, Toronto, Detroit - these are the cities of hugging about the 41st-42nd degree of latitude. And having spent some time in all of them, I can say what they have in common...4 real seasons, deep cold in winter and blazing hot in summer. You get the full spectrum around here, which is somehow deeply satisfying to my soul.

One of my favorite things about this level of North is the Chinook Wind. It's like the world saying "ok, you gonna get your ass frozen off for 4 months - but we'll give you a nice day in the middle there, to keep you from going absolutely out of your freaking mind."

Although too far East to get the real snow-eater, we still get that day or two of a "false spring", of improbable warmth. A soft wind seems to sweep the snow away, bringing dripping puddles of mud and short sleeved shirts hastily dug out of the closet.

Today was it.

Bright sun, gusty breezes, pokes of green grass in February. A little miracle just at the moment when we are all so sick of winter that we want to cry.

I woke up early, with a full schedule ahead of me. They'd been promising that today was the day - and as I stepped outside around 7:45, the snow had already half melted away from the lawn.

We've been telling Bear since he turned 8 that we would change around bedrooms with him and get him some 'big kid' furniture. So, catching the sunshine in a jar, we raced over to Home Depot. Bear had to choose from the palette offered for the no-VOC paint we were using. (It comes in 65 organic pre-mixed tints) He shocked both of us by choosing an aqua color called "Summer Dragonfly" from their 'Waterscape' shade.

"Really?" we asked, our eyebrows inching up to our hairlines.

"Yes," he insisted, firmly.

You know how it is. The Chinook Wind comes blowing in, and you push open all the windows. The neighbor boys come over. You empty out the room, patch and fix the rough spots. Take down the curtains, and roll on the new paint.

Then, suddenly, everything is new. And possible...

The Winner is (Week 3)...

February 06, 2009 | Category: Free, Contest, Giveaway

It's been a quiet week, here. My flu last week crawled into my sinuses (I know, yuck) and it's just fuzzled me up. But the response to last Saturday's post Into the Looking Glass was so, so awesome. It was just one of those moments - you know?

Anyway, thanks again. And without further ado, this week's winner is...
Sharky Malarkey!!!

OK, on to the last week... ready? (All of last week's unique, non-related to me comments after the jump)

Continue reading "The Winner is (Week 3)..."

The Tide is Made bie the Moon

February 05, 2009 | Category: One House Schoolroom

Yesterday, I asked Bear to write a sentence using at least 2 of his 20 vocabulary words. He said he didn't want to because, he couldn't spell. I promised him that if he sounded out the words, it would be fine.

"OK, but I still don't want to," he announced, marching off with a green maker and his notebook.

He wrote:

My name is Bear, tooday is Tuesday in 2009. Aquatic mammals like the whales livz (lives) in the ocean. The tide is made bie the moon.

[other side of the paper] This is Bear and I like to stutea (study) aquatic mammals. They are cool!

He presented it to me with a huge grin, and then read it to me twice.

People ask me why I homeschool, and I guess this is my answer. In fact, I went to Goodwill today and bought a flatbed scanner (for $7) just so I could upload his recent flurries of creative writing.

I know it may not seem like much. But Bear has perception issues much like dyslexia. So this? Is the whole, beautiful, wide world. He wrote 4 sentences more than I asked, just for the fun of it. The same boy who, last month after Christmas, was reduced to hysterics when I tried to get him to write thank-you notes.

It's a razor walk, to keep him interested and eager to read and write despite the struggle. We give up, a lot. But then, one day, he writes about how the tide is made bie the moon - and I just.... melt.

Cartoon You

February 04, 2009 | Category: Lookie Here

Have you ever wondered what you would like like as a cartoon? Like that commercial, where real people get turned into animations?

Well, some years back, I moonlighted as an advice columnist. Not that I'm all that or a bag of chips, but I was asked in part due to the blog and it was a wonderful experience for the 6 months I did it.

Which is all not the point. The point? Is that they drew a cartoon of me to be used with my byline. I should have provided a better sample of pictures for the artist to draw from, which I only realized when I saw the result.

Continue reading "Cartoon You"

Domain Pirates

February 03, 2009 | Category: In My Life

After I started this blog, I began thinking that eventually I would move over to my own domain. So I reserved the domain name "CorporateMommy dot com" through a friend.

In 2007, I forgot to renew it on its expiration. When I went to try, I discovered that a squatter had taken the name and parked it. Meaning - they didn't want to do anything with it themselves, just re-sell it to the highest bidder.

For a $12 name, they were asking thousands. Pirates.

Continue reading "Domain Pirates"

Groundhog Stew

February 02, 2009 | Category: Mother to the First Power

Slow day, as we recover from colds. At one point, I was just hanging out online while Bear was watching a cartoon.

"Hey, the groundhog saw his shadow," I called to him.

"What does that mean again?"

"Six more weeks of winter."

"I say we find that groundhog and make him change his answer!"

Continue reading "Groundhog Stew"

Hands Down, the MVP HAS to be...

February 01, 2009 | Category: Not The Nightly News

Bruce Springsteen.

Am I right, or am I right? (Rob thinks I'm really wrong.)

With deep love left for James Harrison, Ben Roethlisberger, Santonio Holmes, Kurt Warner, and Larry Fitzgerald.

Oh, oh, oh and the casts of Chuck, Medium, and Heroes (especially that last one) for the funniest commercials of the show.