I just have to say a great big THANK YOU to my sister-in-law for the gift she gave my son tonight. She brought him a bug house. Sounds innocent enough until I tell you what just happened in my house. Let me set the scene for you.
Husband: Sleeping soundly in our bedroom
Daughter: Sleeping soundly in her bedroom
Son: Sleeping soundly in his bedroom (or so I thought)
Me: Playing on the computer
As I'm writing my last post my son comes tip-toeing down the hallway and says "It's ok, I've almost caught all of them" Alarm bells instantly go off as I realize my 3 year old son has released all the lightening bugs that he and his cousins caught & put in the bug house that his Aunt Di bought him 3 hours ago!!!!!!! I go into my bedroom to try and wake my husband with a shrill "He let the bugs out!" I'm greeted with a mumbled "Damnit" as he rolls back over to sleep. So off I go into the chaos of a toddlers bedroom and begin trying to catch all the recently freed bugs to the cheers of my son saying "It's ok Mom, that one can sleep in my bed." It took every ounce of patience I had not to scream at him "What the hell were you thinking opening that up in my house!!!" Thankfully I was able to maintain my cool and I am happy to report that they have all been captured and placed safely back into their temporary home. At least that is what I'm telling myself!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Summer favorites
Two of my favorite things about summer involve ice cream. I love the ice cream truck that comes into neighborhoods to deliver push ups and bomb pops, in my house we call him the ding ding man. That is what I always called him growing up and I have not been able to break myself of the habit. I also love the Pineapple Whip girl. I don't actually eat Pineapple Whip but I like to shimmy my hips when I see her and sing "Pineapple Whip Girl". These are two things I am passing on to my children. A love for the ding ding man and the desire to shake their hips when they see the pineapple whip girl. It's fun to relive childhood with your own children.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Thanks for the offer
After all this time searching for a job I've finally gotten an offer. . . . and I've turned it down. I really did consider accepting it. I found a pre-school for my son, worked out arrangements with family for my daughter, I even negotiated for additional money and for a flexible schedule and then I turned it down.
I was discussing all the benefits of this job with my husband--better insurance, great retirement plan, opportunities for travel, tuition reimbursement, etc. Bob just sat there not saying a word and finally I said "Don't you have anything to say? What do you think about this job?" He looked at me and said, "Do whatever makes you happy." I said "But what do you think? Does this sound like a good fit for me & for our family?" Then he asked the question that made me really stop and think "If you take this job are you going to be back in this same spot a year from now? Are you going to be unhappy again and looking for something else all over? Are you going to be stuck in an job that doesn't provide you with the sense of accomplishment and fullfillment that you are looking for? Are you settling for a job now because you think I'm pressuring you to get one? Are you still going to be wishing for that dream job that you don't have?"
OK, he actually only asked the first question which led me to ask myself all the other questions. I knew I would be settling if I took that job and I was amazed that my husband knew it too.
So now I have a plan to go after a dream I've had for several years, I'm going to teach. I'm applying to substitute teach for now and I'm applying for a teacher certification program at MSU. Since I already have my Bachelors I can apply some of my coursework toward my certification to save time and money. I'm hoping to get into the accelerated program which will allow me to get my Masters degree at the same time.
It's going to be hard to go back to school at age 33 and begin a whole new career but I really believe it's never too late to chase your dreams.
I was discussing all the benefits of this job with my husband--better insurance, great retirement plan, opportunities for travel, tuition reimbursement, etc. Bob just sat there not saying a word and finally I said "Don't you have anything to say? What do you think about this job?" He looked at me and said, "Do whatever makes you happy." I said "But what do you think? Does this sound like a good fit for me & for our family?" Then he asked the question that made me really stop and think "If you take this job are you going to be back in this same spot a year from now? Are you going to be unhappy again and looking for something else all over? Are you going to be stuck in an job that doesn't provide you with the sense of accomplishment and fullfillment that you are looking for? Are you settling for a job now because you think I'm pressuring you to get one? Are you still going to be wishing for that dream job that you don't have?"
OK, he actually only asked the first question which led me to ask myself all the other questions. I knew I would be settling if I took that job and I was amazed that my husband knew it too.
So now I have a plan to go after a dream I've had for several years, I'm going to teach. I'm applying to substitute teach for now and I'm applying for a teacher certification program at MSU. Since I already have my Bachelors I can apply some of my coursework toward my certification to save time and money. I'm hoping to get into the accelerated program which will allow me to get my Masters degree at the same time.
It's going to be hard to go back to school at age 33 and begin a whole new career but I really believe it's never too late to chase your dreams.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Gambling with the Girls
Tonight was my monthly Bunco (or Bunko) night. For those of you who don't know Bunco is a 12-peron dice game. It is a very simple game to play, 4 people at 3 tables roll dice for points. Whoever has the most points wins. Apparently it's a very popular game and everyone plays it differently. Some groups play for small gifts like candles, but we play for cash. Each player pays $5 and the biggest payout is $20. Our little group has been playing together for a year now and we really have a lot of fun. A different person hosts each month and it's fun to see how we all do it so differently. My good friend Jaime hosted tonight and she really knows how to host a party. She made enough food for 30 people and really makes everyone feel welcome. I think my favorite thing about Bunco night is after the game is over I usually go and grab ice cream or hang out for a little while with Jaime and Amanda and I get that feeling like I'm 16 years old again and I'm missing my curfew!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Help Wanted
I hate looking for a job. When I was hired at my last job I swore I would never look for another job again, yet here I am 5 years later unemployed. I've had a job since I was 16 years old, but not now. I'm on month five of not having to drive to work 5 days a week. I should say that I'm not sitting around on the couch watching TV all day. I've got my 3 year old and 5 month old keeping me far busier than I ever thought possible.
I had planned on going back to work after a 12-week maternity leave. But when the time came I realized I couldn't go back to working up to 60 hours a week, missing bed time at least three nights a week, and traveling all over SW Missouri.
I've been on several interviews but so far no job offers. It's actually become a bit of a joke. Up to now I had never been on a job interview where I wasn't offered the job. It sure is a blow to the ego though when you continue to hear "You were an excellent candidate, however we are unable to make you a job offer at this time. We will keep your resume on file for 1 year and if another position becomes available please consider applying."
My very first job was at Waffle House. I was a waitress and I loved it. It was much more fun to work when you weren't working to pay the mortgage. I guess I could always go back there. I still remember how to call in the orders:
Waffle
1 sasage
2 hasbrowns scattered, make one smothered and covered
I have another interview tomorrow. Wish me luck!
I had planned on going back to work after a 12-week maternity leave. But when the time came I realized I couldn't go back to working up to 60 hours a week, missing bed time at least three nights a week, and traveling all over SW Missouri.
I've been on several interviews but so far no job offers. It's actually become a bit of a joke. Up to now I had never been on a job interview where I wasn't offered the job. It sure is a blow to the ego though when you continue to hear "You were an excellent candidate, however we are unable to make you a job offer at this time. We will keep your resume on file for 1 year and if another position becomes available please consider applying."
My very first job was at Waffle House. I was a waitress and I loved it. It was much more fun to work when you weren't working to pay the mortgage. I guess I could always go back there. I still remember how to call in the orders:
Waffle
1 sasage
2 hasbrowns scattered, make one smothered and covered
I have another interview tomorrow. Wish me luck!
Friday, June 15, 2007
The day he died
I had planned to write this on Wednesday and then again yesterday but honestly I didn't want to see it out in front of me again. I know if I don't write this it will nag at me until I finally do and since this is the appropriate time of year here goes.
My last semester in college was really difficult for me because it was leading up to the first anniversary of my brother's death. I was taking my final technical writing course and our final assignment was to create a "how-to" manual from start to finish. I was in a bit of a slump, barely able to force myself to go to class and the last thing I wanted to do was write a manual to teach anyone how to do anything. I've always kept journals but up to that point I hadn't written anything about my brothers death. So I decided I would write a manual on how to survive the death of a sibling. Death affects everyone in different ways and the death of someone so young is especially hard to understand. But when that person commits suicide that puts understanding and acceptance in a whole new category. My parents found a support group that they attended but I never felt like it was a good fit for me. I knew I needed to tell my story in my own way and my manual helped me to do that. After I completed my manual ( & turned it in for my grade) I destroyed it. I'm not sure why I did that. Again, this was the first year after he died and I did a lot of things I can't explain that summer. I want to write about the day he died, and share a bit of what that day did to me.
On June 13, 1996 I was taking my brother out for his 24th birthday. He was to meet me and a friend at a local comedy club. I don't remember why we were meeting but there was a reason. My brother was late so I called him and there was no answer. I called several times and he never answered and I was getting really pissed. I had talked to him earlier in the day and we had confirmed our plans. I was so mad when he didn't show but I left his ticket out front in case he came late and I went into the club. I sat through the whole set the entire time thinking about why he wasn't there. I started to get really worried and decided we better go check on him.
We left the comedy club and went to my parents house where he was staying. His truck wasn't in the driveway so I figured he wasn't home but decided to go in the house anyway. I went into the living room and his shoes were in laying by the couch. When I saw his shoes I knew something was wrong, he always wore those shoes. I went out to the garage and his truck was parked inside. I really started to freak out then because he never parked in the garage. I walked out to the barn and called his name. I looked in all the buildings but I couldn't find him. I ran back into the house and started calling my relatives to see if anyone knew where he was. It was really late at night and I was starting to really panic 'cause nobody had seen him. They all thought he was with me. My aunt convinced me to come and get her so she could help me look. In the meantime my uncles were coming over to help us look for him too. This may sound like we were overreacting but Lynn had attempted suicide before and so we were all really scared.
After picking up my aunt I drove back home and I remember turning dowm my road and seeing flashing red lights racing to my parents house. I remember hearing sirens from the police and ambulances. I felt relief. I thought that the police were coming to help us look for him. I actually thought the lights and sirens were a good sign. It didn't occur to me to wonder who had called them. I pulled into the driveway and I saw my 3 uncles walking toward me and I don't think I even said anything and one of them said "We found him." I said "Good where is he?" then one of them said "He's dead." I started screaming, crying and hitting whoever was holding me. I don't even remember who it was. They told me that they had found him hanging from a rafter in the barn. I had been in the barn, but I didn't see him . I don't know how that happened but I'm thankful I didn't find him. I'm not sure if I could have recovered from that.
I remember running into the house calling up my brothers ex-wife's house and told her mother to "tell your daughter thanks to her my brother is dead." Then I told my uncles they had to go and get my mom. She was at work and I didn't want her driving home by herself to the horrible scene of police cars and ambulances in her driveway. The police wouldn't let one of my uncles go because he had been the one to cut my brother down. They had to question him because it was considered a crime scene. I remember asking my aunt to go out and try CPR. Then I called my mom's best friend and asked her to come over so my mom would have someone to lean on. Then I called my dad. He was a truck driver and I had no idea for sure where he was. Luckily I found him on my first try . I had to tell my dad over the phone that his only son was dead and that he needed to turn around and come home.
I don't remember seeing my mom when she got home, I know that she went out to see his body. I did not. I know that she was glad I had called Janet and she knew that I called dad. I don't think she and I ever spoke that night. I do remember her telling me to get some sleep the next day. I also remember her telling me to go out and meet my dad when he got home. My uncle had picked up him and driven him home. I walked out to meet him as he climbed out of the truck and he collapsed. I only remember bits of the next few days. I remember calling the morge to see if his body had been transferred to the funeral home. I remember calling the minister to ask him to help plan the funeral. I remember going to the newspaper to place his obituary. My parents and I barely spoke during all of this. We were all to consumed with grief and I had the guilt that if I hadn't stayed for the comedy show that perhaps I could have stopped him.
The funeral was on fathers day. I remember sitting on my grandparent's porch waiting for the car to pick us up to take us to the service. We drove to this little country church that was packed full of our family. I remember my dad breaking down as we walked into the church. I remember thinking during the service that the minister didn't have any idea what he was talking about and wanting to yell at him to shut up. I didn't go up to the casket, I sat on the front pew all by myself while my parents went up there. They had forced me to view him at visitation and I wasn't about to do it again. I remember my uncles and cousins carrying the casket back out to the car and someone broke down. I remember the Garth Brooks song "The Dance" playing at the funeral. I remember my dad standing up to thank everyone for their support. That is the last thing I remember.
My family changed the day he died. My parents and I have never had a close relationship since. In fact I haven't been close to anyone in my family since. I can't explain why. We all changed so much and dealt with his death in very different ways. I'm just not the same without him and being with my family with him not there still doesn't feel right.
I will never fully understand why my brother did what he did. I do think he felt that he had no other options and that was the only way to end his pain. I am sure he had no idea of how much his death would alter my entire family. I'm sure that he didn't mean to kill bits of me too.
My last semester in college was really difficult for me because it was leading up to the first anniversary of my brother's death. I was taking my final technical writing course and our final assignment was to create a "how-to" manual from start to finish. I was in a bit of a slump, barely able to force myself to go to class and the last thing I wanted to do was write a manual to teach anyone how to do anything. I've always kept journals but up to that point I hadn't written anything about my brothers death. So I decided I would write a manual on how to survive the death of a sibling. Death affects everyone in different ways and the death of someone so young is especially hard to understand. But when that person commits suicide that puts understanding and acceptance in a whole new category. My parents found a support group that they attended but I never felt like it was a good fit for me. I knew I needed to tell my story in my own way and my manual helped me to do that. After I completed my manual ( & turned it in for my grade) I destroyed it. I'm not sure why I did that. Again, this was the first year after he died and I did a lot of things I can't explain that summer. I want to write about the day he died, and share a bit of what that day did to me.
On June 13, 1996 I was taking my brother out for his 24th birthday. He was to meet me and a friend at a local comedy club. I don't remember why we were meeting but there was a reason. My brother was late so I called him and there was no answer. I called several times and he never answered and I was getting really pissed. I had talked to him earlier in the day and we had confirmed our plans. I was so mad when he didn't show but I left his ticket out front in case he came late and I went into the club. I sat through the whole set the entire time thinking about why he wasn't there. I started to get really worried and decided we better go check on him.
We left the comedy club and went to my parents house where he was staying. His truck wasn't in the driveway so I figured he wasn't home but decided to go in the house anyway. I went into the living room and his shoes were in laying by the couch. When I saw his shoes I knew something was wrong, he always wore those shoes. I went out to the garage and his truck was parked inside. I really started to freak out then because he never parked in the garage. I walked out to the barn and called his name. I looked in all the buildings but I couldn't find him. I ran back into the house and started calling my relatives to see if anyone knew where he was. It was really late at night and I was starting to really panic 'cause nobody had seen him. They all thought he was with me. My aunt convinced me to come and get her so she could help me look. In the meantime my uncles were coming over to help us look for him too. This may sound like we were overreacting but Lynn had attempted suicide before and so we were all really scared.
After picking up my aunt I drove back home and I remember turning dowm my road and seeing flashing red lights racing to my parents house. I remember hearing sirens from the police and ambulances. I felt relief. I thought that the police were coming to help us look for him. I actually thought the lights and sirens were a good sign. It didn't occur to me to wonder who had called them. I pulled into the driveway and I saw my 3 uncles walking toward me and I don't think I even said anything and one of them said "We found him." I said "Good where is he?" then one of them said "He's dead." I started screaming, crying and hitting whoever was holding me. I don't even remember who it was. They told me that they had found him hanging from a rafter in the barn. I had been in the barn, but I didn't see him . I don't know how that happened but I'm thankful I didn't find him. I'm not sure if I could have recovered from that.
I remember running into the house calling up my brothers ex-wife's house and told her mother to "tell your daughter thanks to her my brother is dead." Then I told my uncles they had to go and get my mom. She was at work and I didn't want her driving home by herself to the horrible scene of police cars and ambulances in her driveway. The police wouldn't let one of my uncles go because he had been the one to cut my brother down. They had to question him because it was considered a crime scene. I remember asking my aunt to go out and try CPR. Then I called my mom's best friend and asked her to come over so my mom would have someone to lean on. Then I called my dad. He was a truck driver and I had no idea for sure where he was. Luckily I found him on my first try . I had to tell my dad over the phone that his only son was dead and that he needed to turn around and come home.
I don't remember seeing my mom when she got home, I know that she went out to see his body. I did not. I know that she was glad I had called Janet and she knew that I called dad. I don't think she and I ever spoke that night. I do remember her telling me to get some sleep the next day. I also remember her telling me to go out and meet my dad when he got home. My uncle had picked up him and driven him home. I walked out to meet him as he climbed out of the truck and he collapsed. I only remember bits of the next few days. I remember calling the morge to see if his body had been transferred to the funeral home. I remember calling the minister to ask him to help plan the funeral. I remember going to the newspaper to place his obituary. My parents and I barely spoke during all of this. We were all to consumed with grief and I had the guilt that if I hadn't stayed for the comedy show that perhaps I could have stopped him.
The funeral was on fathers day. I remember sitting on my grandparent's porch waiting for the car to pick us up to take us to the service. We drove to this little country church that was packed full of our family. I remember my dad breaking down as we walked into the church. I remember thinking during the service that the minister didn't have any idea what he was talking about and wanting to yell at him to shut up. I didn't go up to the casket, I sat on the front pew all by myself while my parents went up there. They had forced me to view him at visitation and I wasn't about to do it again. I remember my uncles and cousins carrying the casket back out to the car and someone broke down. I remember the Garth Brooks song "The Dance" playing at the funeral. I remember my dad standing up to thank everyone for their support. That is the last thing I remember.
My family changed the day he died. My parents and I have never had a close relationship since. In fact I haven't been close to anyone in my family since. I can't explain why. We all changed so much and dealt with his death in very different ways. I'm just not the same without him and being with my family with him not there still doesn't feel right.
I will never fully understand why my brother did what he did. I do think he felt that he had no other options and that was the only way to end his pain. I am sure he had no idea of how much his death would alter my entire family. I'm sure that he didn't mean to kill bits of me too.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
A day to remember
I don't remember much about my brother. I wish I could remember what his favorite movie was, what his favorite song was or any other useless bit of trivia about him. You would think that I could remember more than I do. I was 21 years old when he died, he was 24.
What I do remember is his sense of humor. He had this crazy laugh and would make the silliest faces. I have one picture of him with this crazy look on his face at one of his birthday party's and it is my favorite picture. That is the picture that helps me remember him. I also remember he used to love the song "My future's so Bright I've gotta wear Shades" I think of him when I hear that song.
I wish he was still here so he could meet my son. My son reminds me of him when he laughs. He has the same wide-mouth laugh. My brother would have loved him. In my mind I can picture the two of them together and laughing. That is a picture I wish I could take.
It's heartbreaking to think that my brother never met my husband or either of my children. The three most important people in my life will never get a chance to meet the one person who shared my entire childhood with me. So many times I've wished I could pick up the phone to call him and say "remember the time. . . . . . . "
I hate that we never had the chance to be friends as adults.
What I do remember is his sense of humor. He had this crazy laugh and would make the silliest faces. I have one picture of him with this crazy look on his face at one of his birthday party's and it is my favorite picture. That is the picture that helps me remember him. I also remember he used to love the song "My future's so Bright I've gotta wear Shades" I think of him when I hear that song.
I wish he was still here so he could meet my son. My son reminds me of him when he laughs. He has the same wide-mouth laugh. My brother would have loved him. In my mind I can picture the two of them together and laughing. That is a picture I wish I could take.
It's heartbreaking to think that my brother never met my husband or either of my children. The three most important people in my life will never get a chance to meet the one person who shared my entire childhood with me. So many times I've wished I could pick up the phone to call him and say "remember the time. . . . . . . "
I hate that we never had the chance to be friends as adults.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Rainy Day
What a dreary, lazy day. This is a day made for staying in bed and reading a good book. The weather actually reflects my mood so I'm glad that it's a rainy day and I'm also glad the next few days are forecast the same. This is my least favorite week of the year and I prefer it to be gloomy, not sunny and happy. The next two days are really hard days for me and my family. Tomorrow, June 12, is my brother's birthday and he would be turning 35. Wednesday, June 13th, is the 11 year anniversary of his death. Each year these days are a little easier to cope with, but I'm still prefer to have days that are sad to match how I feel.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
My first time
I've spent way too many hours reading other people's blogs and now I find myself sitting here creating my own. I have no idea if anything I have to say will be of any interest to anyone else, but I can't resist the desire to create my own blog even if only I read it. This is (sadly) the most exciting thing I've done in a very long time. Now that I've gotten started I'm afraid this could easily become an addiction.
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