Your next one

Having our first CCI puppy has been a delight.

The number TWO question. After the number ONE question (How are you going to give him up?), is well, when do you get the NEXT one?

Society assumes we have to do things again.

People have one child. When's the next? How far apart do you want them?

Society also assumes, once you have done something, you are going to want to do that same thing again.

THEN - society tells us - every experience is different. Treat each one likes it own. Even if you are doing the same thing a second time.

Why would this time be just like the last?

With most, "first children" - there are certain expectations we create around those kids. What we expect of them. How we hope they will turn out.

Second children? Third? We have those expectations too, only truthfully, we just hope we - and them - all get to the finish line alive. (The finish line being each milemarker in life).

I'm probably just the same. Yet, the complete opposite all at the same time.

Let's say my CCI puppy graduates from Advanced Training and gets matched.

Let's say my oldest son graduates from high school. Is a productive member of society and can live on his own.

That would all be great.

Do you really think the next one wouldn't raise that bar?

If my first one was great, wait until you meet the next one.......

Raise the Bar

My sons high school has a 'pep rally' three times a year. Fall sports. Winter sports. Spring Sports.

I remember in high school - we had a pep rally once a week for football. I'm not sure if we had them for the other sports.

(BTW, I really HATE the phrase "when I was a kid". No one cares about when you were a kid. Get over it. Your childhood is OVER. This is NOT your chance to re-live what SHOULD have been your childhood.)

Sorry for the tangent.

Last year was the FIRST year EVER in the history of Denver Public Schools for the district to have a hockey team. It was pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.

The hockey team was good. Not great. Good.

They made it to the first round of playoffs.

There was then the "Winter Pep Rally".

NORMALLY, when the teams come out: the athletes walk out. Wave. The crowd cheers. The announcers announce the "team"

"Please welcome the East High School Wrestling team."

Everyone cheers. Everyone waves.

Last year, the hockey team was announced.

They had a "skit" planned: they lined up the players as bowling pins and "rolled" a senior to the pins.

The crowd went crazy..........

This year: the hockey team set it up to have a little brother of the team (he just turned 10) - "Sack" all the players and score a "goal" on the best goalie in the state.

The crowd, once again, went crazy.

The other teams, still walked onto the floor of the gym and waived.

Except, for one other team - they had a skit this year too.

The hockey team has "raised the bar"

Set a standard higher than what was previously attained.

The hockey team is already worried about what they might do next year. Next year, "to top" this years performance.

Sometimes you change what is considered "standard"

Sometimes you raise the bar.....

Peter Pan and Hope are Assholes

Peter Pan is the child like adult we all want to change. Either that, or we want to go play with him. The thing is, he will never be the man we want him to be.

The grown up in all of us, knows that. Hope refuses to believe he's not turning out the way we thought.

Hope - she just "knows" Peter Pan is going to want to go. She just wishes he wouldn't be who he is. Only, who he is, is who she loves. Hope is whom he loves too.

Hope and Peter Pan are in a fight.

They are fighting over the way things are "supposed to be".

In the meantime, Gypsy Girl received a call from Mr. Bigg.

The real Mister Bigg. The real - thank you for bringing me back to reality. Thanks for being this incredible guy - a wife, kids, running a huge international company. The friend of mine whom all he wanted to know I was okay.

He wins.

Peter Pan loses.

Mr Big called to tell Faith - it's all good. Glad that we were all friends.

So does Hope. Gypsy Girl - Hope's cousin. Faith's sister.  Gypsy learned to go on with her life.

Or she caught the last port from Kona. She went on.

Her cousin Faith? She lived Happily Ever After.

Colloquialisms

kəˈlōkwēəˌlizəm/

noun

noun: colloquialism; plural noun: colloquialisms

1. a word or phrase that is not formal or literary, typically one used in ordinary or familiar conversation.

   • the use of ordinary or familiar words or phrases.

   
   

Colloquialisms. "local phrases or dialect". If you aren't from the region, country, etc, you might not realize things you say. Other people don't know what they mean.

In Cincinnati, people say "Please". "Please" does mean, "yes" - like it does in the rest of the US, but it also means, "Huh?". Or I didn't hear what you just said, will you PLEASE repeat it. Only, they just say please.

The Southern United States is also famous for many phrases the rest of the country doesn't use. "Go put your books up. " Meaning "Go put your books away" to the rest of the USA.

I moved from Texas to Colorado in 1992. I've now lived longer here than I did there. People often comment that I don't have an accent. I usually reply "I left my accent, my hot rollers and I got the hell out of there." People usually smile.

If I've been in Texas for a bit, I can come back with my accent. I hear how other people talk and assimilate to the culture.

I notice when I wrote the Dear Timothy blog, I used the word "hollering". I didn't even notice I had used the word until I was back in Colorado proofing the blog. I have no idea when the last time I even SAID hollering much less wrote the word down. I normally would have used the word "yelling".

The family I went to help out is a very Southern Family. It's no wonder I came back with the colloquialisms I used in Texas. 

I remember just after college, I had applied for a position. The hiring manager asked me what kind of reference my previous employer would give me. (You know, that part-time babysitter position I held). My first response:

"Oh, he thinks I hung the moon".

Huh? I remember the man looking at me like I had two heads. I was no longer in Texas.

Since I've been back from Texas, I've actually said. "They think I parted the sea"; "Over yonder"

I don't think I've said those things for years.

But the BEST one yet?

When I called the grandparents to tell them the story of Timothy's arrival into the world? The Papa replied,  "well, darling, you earned your spurs this morning."

The Colorado girl in me wasn't sure what it really meant, but the girl born in Texas? She knew it was a compliment in the highest regard.

Dear Timothy

Dear Timothy,

By the time you are old enough to read this letter, you will already know this story by heart. (Your family is really good at telling stories).

I should start with the back story (which no doubt you already know too).

Once upon a time, I was in college. Your Papa, your Aunt Tiffany and Uncle Travis and I all lived in this same college town.

Your Papa needed some help. I answered an ad in the newspaper (ask one of us old people what a newspaper was) for a part-time baby-sitter. 5 days a week Monday - Friday. 3:30 - 6:30.  Your dad wasn't even a glimmer in the eye yet.

Long story short - I got the job. Your Granny moved to town. Your dad was born the next year. I was at the hospital the morning your dad was born.

Fast forward: 28 years later. Yes, TWENTY EIGHT years later. I was no longer "the girl who answered the ad, we were all family" Most people know me as your Papa's little sister.

It's 1:30am on February 23 and I'm with you parents and sister in Fort Hood, Texas.

I had been there for a week. We had done EVERYTHING we could to get you to come out of the belly. You weren't having any of it. I was all set to leave on the afternoon of the 22nd, but changed my plane to stay one more day. Your Grammi and Pappi were due to arrive on the 23rd at noon. I wasn't about to leave your parents and your sister without any extra help.

At 1:30am your daddy is banging on my door. Telling me your mom's water had broke. Your dad informs me, I'm going to the hospital as last time - even though her water had broke with your sister, it was still hours and hours.

I yelled at your dad to get out of my room because I was naked and need to finish putting on my clothes. He didn't want to see me naked so he got out of the room.

We all somehow managed to put clothes on. I even brushed my teeth.

He got your mom in the car. I got in the drivers seat. I told your parents "you two get in the backseat". You dad looks at me and he said, "No, you two are going. I'm staying with the baby. I'll take "second shift".

Truly, in my gut of gut, I knew at that moment, it was your mom and I bringing you into the world.

It was pitch black. POURING down rain. Thunder. Lightning. I don't see well at night - at least I remembered to grab my glasses.

We run 4 red lights. 3 stops signs. Couldn't find the hazard lights to save our life.

We get to the hospital and can't find the emergency entrance. I'm on the phone with 911 trying to get directions. We finally see it, but there is no way to pull the car to the entrance.

I park close. Get out of car and RUN to the ambulance entrance. In the meantime, I was in flip flops - I left them (of course I did) to run to the door.

I'm BANGING on the ambulance entrance and ringing the bell. In what seemed like an eternity, someone saw me.

"My niece is in labor. Her water broke. Her contractions are two minutes apart."

4 people, one person with a wheelchair RAN to the car with me. They literally examined your mom in the front seat of the car - just to make sure we weren't delivering this baby already.

Nurse/midwife says "Your at 10 cm" - which means it was time for YOU to come out.

These same people told me, I could move the car. Then come on in. I told them, "I'm not leaving her".

We RAN. and by running, I mean the nurses, the paramedics, myself and the person pushing your mom - RAN to the emergency entrance in the POURING rain. They are hollering "Call OB - let them know we are on our way up" "Call Peds too".

I had picked up my flip flops on the way back in. (I really wonder what made me think to do that). We are then still RUNNING (this was no jog) to the elevators to get us to the second floor.

At some point, someone told me I needed to put my shoes on. I know we were on the delivery floor. I told them I couldn't run in my flip flops. They said they understood, but I had to put them on now.

Your mom was so brave. She did great. And in less than 30 minutes from the time we made it into the room, you came out of the belly.

All 8 pounds 10 ounces of you. They let me cut your umbilical cord. You were such a soft baby, with really long fingernails. Looking like your daddy, but with your momma's eyes.

We texted your dad. Your grandparents. A bunch of other people who love you too.

No one could believe how fast you came out! ON your due date. I told the nurse, "And that's the last time this boy will ever be on time. He's a Darter."

I went to your house, to send your dad to the hospital and stay with your sister.

If you really want to know something about me - I LOVE adventures. I LOVE that I was able to have this adventure with you. May we have many more adventures together.

Thank you for sharing your BIRTHday with me.

Love you always,

Tutu

P.S. Remind me to warn you the dangers of applying for jobs. They told me this was going to be part-time. You never know what you might get yourself into.

Sounds like you

Working from home has it's set of advantageous.

For years, I couldn't have imagined working at home. Now, I can't imagine working in an office. Well, at times I have gone into offices, but I'm too far gone now.

Perceptions of us work at home people:

• We do our laundry during "work hours"
• We don't really work
• We wear workout clothes all the time
• It's loud and there are tons of distractions

Some of the above are true.

When I first started working at home, I would always work in my office - with the door shut. The boys were younger and knew when they could/couldn't come into the office. My workday ended when the boys got home from school.

As I have "transmorphed" into my full fledged work at home person?

All of the "rules" I used to have and abide by - they are gone.

I still get all my work done, but I workout in the middle of the day. I've been known to get all the ingredients ready for dinner in the middle of the afternoon. Or throw some laundry in the wash. Or take a nap. Or work at the dining room table - or a friends dining room table in Hawaii - or on and on and on......

I was in the middle of Texas this whole last week waiting for a new baby to arrive. I've been working here. Only there is the dryer buzzing. The doorbell ringing. The dog barking and the baby crying. At any given moment.

I joke, I was on the road to freedom. Now I have a 1 year old and a puppy. That doesn't sound like me.......

I'll be back to that other life again soon.

Love and all that stuff

February CRAWLS.

As in, I look at the calendar EVERY DAY and think "it's not over yet?"

This February I refuse to succumb to the month. I did the same thing last February. Only it TRULY takes a conscience effort to plan each day. To know that it's grey and cold and it's only one month out of the year.

A girlfriend came to visit this weekend - her husband and sons went to the mountains to ski. We had a girls weekend.

The weather was BEAUTIFUL - as in: not a cloud in the ski. Highs lower 60's. This is our March weather. We had the top off the convertible.

A picture perfect weekend.

It's Valentine's Day. It's her husbands birthday. The sign of maturity - knowing that you can celebrate your love. Your birthday. Any freaking holiday. Anytime you want....

You don't just need a day.

I received a text from Peter Pan at 3:15 this morning wishing me Happy Valentine's Day.

Life doesn't always look like the movies. Sometimes you just have to make it work for you.

One day, whether you are 14, 28 or 65

you will stumble upon somoene who will start a fire in you that cannot die.

However, the saddest, most awful truth you will ever come to find ----

is they are not always with who we spend our lives. 

Our should I say

Not whom we spend our lives with Hollywood Style