sweet downfall

If we had any leaves that were capable of changing colors...fall would be all around.




And I don't know what it is exactly about Fall... The sun has a particular look as it moves across the sky...the air suggests the colder days ahead. But I am very sensitive to even subtle hints...so for me even this mild Florida Fall screams as loudly as if I lived in Maine.

Summer always leaves too soon.

And I sit in my room, windows open, pulling my jackets and flannel PJs out of the cedar chest - wishing I had spent more time tasting every minute of the warm days of Summer. I wish I had gone to the beach more often, walked to park after work, and floated in a pool until I turned into a raisin.

Inevitably I spend too much of Fall dreading winter and aching for the end of Summer...wanting one more week of 100 degree weather...crazy, right?

Is it ennui? Wistful wanting? Nostalgia? What exactly is it about a ten degree temperature change and an hour less of daylight that knocks me around? And if you say SADD I will harpoon you with my rake.

And somehow I have only recently discovered Regina Spektor...today's early morning internet rabbit hole led me to this video...which perfectly sums up my mood at the moment. The video feels just like Fall. Enjoy a good listen, and if you run into me out and about these days - please do give me a giant hug and help me find a way to move through my autumn days like I dance through the springtime!

Happy Saturday ya'll  :)

I suppose....

I do get chided from time to time for having this here "blog" and not really updating it.

Want to hear an amazing story about the type of excitement in my life?! Do you? REALLY?

Well.......

Recently I washed my car!!! Whhhhoooooooo boy do I PARTY!
But wait. It gets MORE EXCITING! Then I waxed my car! WOW!


So I realize it doesn't seem like an interesting story...but it is ;) You guys know I can make anything all dramatic and meaningful by now...don't you?

You see, I am somewhat gimpy of late...herniated L5-S1 lumbar disc is the specific type of gimp. And I got some bad news from my doc a few weeks ago telling me to "take it easy". Which is like telling a two year old to quietly sit in the corner. He assigned some stretches and wanted to see me in a month.

But the doctor I went to before this one....well HE said I could do whatever I wanted. So as a sort of empirical trial I decided to wash/wax my car. I selected that particular activity because it always always makes me feel like my Dad is with me...my sweet Daddy would keep my car looking so great. Him cleaning my car would be his way of helping me get ready for an upcoming trip or soothing over heated exchanges we may have had. I would sit out there with him as he worked...sometimes not talking to him at all...but in our  silence any tension I felt facing a long drive or the remorse in my heart after a hormone induce teenage rant would melt away.

Since he died I will wash my car and think about him...sometimes I even ask his advice. I miss him so much :(


The car I had before this one was a 1995 Volvo sedan. Boxy and golden, no keyless entry, no frills. I loved the hell out of that car!

After I lost my job of 17 years...disheveled and desperate, I was looking for a path, a sign of what to do, just some help.

I prayed, cried, starved myself, over indulged...begged the dark nights to transform into days where I would know what the hell I was supposed to do to support my kid.

After 3 weeks of that nonsense I decided that tactic wasn't doing any good and I gathered up my brush, bucket and turtle wax to clean my car. I must have spent 5 hours outside that day. Cleaning the inside, outside, tires, wheel wells...I even waxed under the hood. Waxing under the hood was part of my dad's mantra that "we clean where people can't see - because the car just drives better when it's spiffed up".

The whole while I was scrubbing, I was talking to my dad. Should I take some soulless desk job making good money? Should I sue the company that had laid me off? Should I reverse direction and find another career? Should I move out of state to find a higher paying job?

I had absolutely no fucking idea what to do....and my dad was a superstar when it came to working middle class anxiety.

As I polished the car dry...I literally told my dad that I was putting my future in his hands...and begged him to move mountains to show me my next step.

The next morning I dropped my son off at school and went to the gym for the first time since losing my job. The gym was less than a mile from my house, but on that drive home a 70 year old man barreled out of a parking lot and T boned my precious car. The car was totaled. I got out of the car and just started keening. I screamed at the heavens, full of rage and high on the stress hormones of the collision's impact.

The next morning I woke up unable to move. My body was wrecked, my car a crumpled mess, and I didn't even have one teaspoon of energy to navigate the insurance company's claim process. Of course the insurance company was refusing to pay for a rental car, refusing to give the green light for medical treatments and sending me down a rabbit hole of "press 1 to speak to claim rep" and "mail three copies of the original  declaration of independence to Iceland".

Bitter, hopeless and hurting, I called an attorney. "Can you get the insurance company to just honor the terms of my contract?" I asked him. "I can make it so you never even have to speak with them again" he replied. I retained his services that day.

I felt like the universe was truly kicking me around. I had prayed to my dad for help....washing and waxing my car...and 12 hours later that car was crushed and my spirit broken. I never would have acquired an attorney if I hadn't been in the state of mind. But by hiring him, the world of reimbursement opened up to me. All my medical expenses were immediately OKed. The rental car was approved. I had access to massages that were so wonderful I felt just a teeny bit of hope emerge.

I started nursing school...and my world started changing in amazing ways. My body healed, and I totally forgot I had even hired the attorney. And then one day he called me and told me the insurance company wanted to settle my case - and I would be receiving a check for 15 thousand dollars!

My mind instantly went back to the day I had been washing my car.

And I remembered my dad.

My dad didn't always fix things the best way. Usually his "fixes" consisted of duct tape, soldering wire and a cut up beer can. Once I asked him to install my car stereo speakers and the end result were plywood boxes, untethered, banging around in my back seat every time I took a turn. The boxes were nearly as big as my back seat and covered with splinters...but they worked ;)

And who knows...maybe it is tricky to send help from beyond this world. Apparently there aren't western unions.

Today I am a very proud nurse...and that check arriving when it did was a turning point in my schooling.

I feel like I am in just the right place these days. And when I washed and waxed my car last week it was my way on thanking my dad for his help along the way :)

like yesterday...

I had a doctor's appointment in the morning twelve years ago today...just a regularly scheduled midwife exam. My nasty gross mucus plug had expelled itself a few days before..."a good sign" my midwife would tell me. She would perform an ultrasound and tell me it could be "any time" in the next two weeks. From the looks of him on that fuzzy gray screen, Jackson was about 6 pounds and was doing well.

Adrien took me to the appointment, and to breakfast afterward. Everything revolved around FOOD for me. I had eggs and chile rellenos.....yum! Every day little J was in my belly I craved spicy foods. I remember putting my fork down during the meal - a very rare thing for a pregnant lady - because I was feeling pangs and bumps and wiggles from the little man...but I was so used to being miserable that I didn't think a thing of it. And I wasn't about to waste one bite.

Adrien took me back home even though I told her I was fine and wanted to go back to work. I wandered around my big old lonely house trying to find something to take my mind off feel crummy. I was restless, uncomfortable and the house felt enormous.  I threw up my breakfast (but that wasn't unusual) and pooped for over an hour (also not too unusual for pregnant me). I tried to nap, watch tv, take a walk....but I was starting to get scared and finally called Adrien. She wasn't at work (now that was unusual). She said she was packing an overnight bag. "Why?" I asked her...and she laughed and said "BECAUSE YOU ARE IN LABOR!"

So we timed the contractions over the phone and sure enough they weren't just plain old being pregnant and miserable pains...they were regular, and consistent and laboring kind of pains.

I called the midwives and they said no need to rush...we still mostly likely had a day to go...so Adrien finished packing up and headed over to my place.

Then the memory gets hazy.

I remember her driving me to the hospital...each bump in the road made me feel like I was passing out. I remember walking in to the triage area and stopping every 5 feet to brace myself against the wall, or ground, or random post. Then suddenly I was laying in the comfy room waiting to be seen by a midwife and kept thinking there was no way in hell I could do this. It felt like every cell in my body was trying to escape through my skin. These weren't cramps or contractions...these were electrical shocks from my soul. I knew that statistically speaking labor lasted 14 hours. It was around 2 o'clock at this point and I had only been hurting for maybe an hour...so I was still in early labor!!!!! I turned to Adrien and said oh hell no makeitstoprightnow... I screamed at her to get out and come back with an epidural. Adrien tried to reason with me, reminding me that non-insane Karen had wanted a natural experience. But all the soothing and coaxing just made me more ferocious and pretty soon Adrien left the room and returned with a midwife.
I have a friend with four kids and she jokes that there should be a person called an "epidoula". And their job would be to accompany a laboring woman to the hospital and yell "EPIDURAL RIGHT NOW" until the anesthesiologist comes running.

So the midwife arrived and promptly stuck her hand up in me for about a millisecond before pulling it out....shocked to discover I was already 10 cm and ready to push!

Well then everything happened really fast.

They moved me into a birthing room immediately.

That's when I realized that blood was just oozing from my most precious bits and I was shocked that no one seemed to mind. I was leaving a trail as I walked!! YUCK!  The nurses and midwives just laughed when I kept trying to clean the mess as I hobbled along the hall to the birthing room.

Four hours later I was holding the most precious thing this world has to offer. Where there was one...there was now two.

And even though his feet stink and he drains every penny I make and is a horrible dishwasher...I have never in my life done anything more rewarding than be his mom. It is absolutely the reason I was on this planet.

Thank you, my little man, for 12 great years....may the best of last year be the worst of the next.

scrub it DOWN

I was outside quite a bit today playing with Mr. Waffle the Fearless Kitty. I was also donating blood to the local mosquito gang...

I would imagine that I personally fed about 542 of the little fuckers...and when I returned inside I was itching like a 3 dollar frog hanging wallpaper.

So I finished my evening chores, reconnected with a sweet dear friend and gave myself a nice long soak in the tub. Candles were lit, oils and salts were added to the perfect temperature water and I let myself drift into pure relaxation. Feeling the urge to exfoliate the mosquito whelps from my skin interrupted my respite...and I used my handy dandy, all natural loofah type bath brush all over. The heat of the water and the salt and oils mingled wonderfully and I finally felt relief from the lunacy mosquito bites can bring.

Upon exiting the bath, wrapped in my comfy robe, I slathered myself with lotion and suddenly felt a stinging sensation ALL OVER! I had been over-zealous in my exfoliating! I think maybe the first 3 layers of skin had been removed!

So I sit here and patiently wait for my skin to settle down....

And while stalking checking out my friends on facebook I came to the conclusion that I don't go out enough. Because the fodder for my blog consists solely of work, motherhood, heartbreak and dermatology.

Part of the problem is that I don't drink. Going out is not as much fun when you are the designated driver. Add in my laziness and general ennui and you have a hermit in the making.

Tomorrow? The 26th of August? I shall GO OUT! And not just to the grocery store or to visit my aged mother unit! I will go out and find some FUN!

If my skin has healed  ;)

sleeplessness....

It isn't really that I have insomnia.....

for some reason (these days) I just don't like to sleep.

Maybe it is hormones?  Most of my semi-adult life I have felt like a passenger riding the river of hormones. Sometimes enjoying the rapids, other times colliding against the rocks...begging for shade on a sunny day or straining for starlight at dusk.

I miss having my sweet baby laying next to me....dreaming of lizards and dragons

but I miss the gentle breathing of my girlfriend even more.

So I sit awake and play games, tidy the house, enjoy being quiet. Nighttime me is a big planner too! Making lists and organizing my calendar...not realizing that daytime me doesn't really pay attention to those things!

In the night I am a perfect mom, wonderful friend and on time for all my appointments. My girlfriend is never disappointed in me and I contently browse for delicious recipes that may or may not find their way into my oven.

I think I love the night because there are no expectations, no pressures, no phone calls and nothing I "should be doing".

Tomorrow I will figure out how to pull this evening optimism out of the dark.....if I don't sleep half the day away that is ;)