Some people take better care of their pets than they do themselves. Their animals can run like the wind and they can barely make it up a flight of stairs.    -Jim Rohn                                          

That’s right, and my Greyson can make it out the open front door in a flash. This time it went unnoticed as Ab and her friend headed out to the movies last night. It had to have cost him at least a few of his 9 lives in this weather, since it’s rained and rained and rained. For days and days. He’s lucky it didn’t turn to snow.

I thought neutering was supposed to settle little boy kitties down a bit. At six months old, he’s found the outside to be rather interesting and he desperately wants to get out and explore. Of course, mama won’t have that, because I expect them to be totally indoor cats. Greyson just has to push the envelope.

Ab and Cassie had to be giggling in anticipation of a girl’s night out as they headed off to see Hitch, Will Smith’s latest film and we suspect that’s when the culprit made his escape. I was down the mountain with a friend, at the annual Home Show. Ab and I returned home about the same time, but it wasn’t until about an hour later that we noticed Greyson wasn’t anywhere to be found. We searched everywhere in the house and then headed out in the weather to see if he was somewhere outside. It was pouring. Freezing rain, with gutters nearly overflowing with rushing water. I got in the car and drove slowing around the neighborhood with my bright lights, but I couldn’t find him. We’d call out his name from the front porch, to no avail. All night long, we’d check for him at the front door, but no Greyson.

I was just crying and heartsick that this very loved and extremely, well-taken-care-of-pet (just ask my vet) was likely to be coyote or owl food in no time, if he didn’t freeze to death or get swept away in flash floods. Fortunately for him, the Boxers, who love to terrorize cats and skunks, were hunkered down together for the stormy night in their insulated igloo and they didn’t see or hear him in the side yard.

This morning, while calling his name and following his cries, he was found with cold, wet paws, but no worse for the wear. After lots of warm hugs from his people, he decided to eat and play before curling up with his brother for a cozy nap.

I hope he’s learned a lesson about the great outdoors.

We’ll see.

In the meantime, I'll be working on getting up my stairs without huffing and puffing.  :)

 

 

Another Birthday!

She entered the world feet first on February 6, 1973. Six pounds, nine ounces of a perfect, beautiful baby doll! She grew to be a chubby bundle of happiness and joy to her young parents. An infectious laugh and dimpled smile, on what was surely the most intelligent child ever born. Her parents doted on her, taking her everywhere. She soaked up language, speaking like a little adult, and while her first word really wasn’t "irregularity" as they’d joked, it was something similar.

With a microphone held up to her rosebud mouth, she’d sing along with the Lennon Sisters on Lawrence Welk’s weekly show. After she was put to bed on warm summer nights, she’d disobey her mommy by sneaking out to the front porch to watch the Disneyland fireworks light up the sky. Who could get mad about that?

She loved to help in the kitchen and once made a nice, colorful batch of Kool-Aide for her goldfish….in their bowl. The goldfish didn’t really appreciate her gesture. She loved her baby brother who called her Sissy, until they both outgrew it. Her thumb was a comfort, as was a special pillow that she’d hold close to her sweet face.

She grew up with Barbies, Big Wheels and bunkbeds. She played soccer and basketball and desperately wanted to be one of the boys. She was a Brownie and Girl Scout. A boy-crazy and rebellious teen, who graduated high school by the skin of her beautiful, straightened teeth.

She’s now 32 years old, and still hasn’t decided what she wants to be when she grows up. But there’s one thing for sure, she’s still her mama’s beautiful baby girl.

And, baby…..look at you now!

                  

                  Happy Birthday Sweetie!

 

Bubba's 18th Birthday

We do not want riches, but we want to raise our children right.

               ~Red Cloud

Bubba, my wild Indian child, became part of our family just after he turned 8 years old. I embraced that child with love, even before he stepped over the threshold to his new home. I became his mother in every sense of the word, whether or not he chose to address me in that way. Despite the fact he was only 8 and he hadn’t lived with her since he was 3, his neglectful birthmother had made an indelible mark on his wounded heart. I didn’t try to erase the connection, I only hoped to fill the gaping wounds with love and show him what true mothering was all about. I figured he’d come around, and eventually realize that I was his mom, and he’d finally bestow me the honor.

By the time Bubba was 11, we stood before an Oklahoma judge and sealed the adoption for both kids. The kind judge, who had been involved in Bubba and Ab’s case for years, stood for pictures with our "finalized" family, figuring on a success story. It was at that time our family counselor said, that Bubba needed to start calling me some term of endearment worthy of a mother. If it wasn’t Mom, then there were some alternatives other than "Lisa" that she suggested, or he could make up his own name for me.

It didn’t happen. At least not out loud, to me. There were times when I thought we were getting close. Mother’s Day cards made at school with cutout red hearts and loving sentiments. A wooden photo frame, stamped with the words MOM in various sizes, that contained a picture of him in his swimsuit, with his boogie board. "I’ll have to ask my Mom!" hollered breathlessly as he ran home to get permission to stay at a friend’s for dinner.

We spoiled him. Probably gave him way too much, in an effort to compensate him for what he lacked in earlier times. In return, we received his love, gratitude and appreciation. He made us laugh, hysterically. Bubba’s favorite comedian was Jim Carey and he could do some great imitations. And you should have seen him dance, exaggerating fancy moves with his round bottom sticking waaaayyy out! Handsome and charming wasn’t even close to describing that young man.  I encouraged him to be a model or an actor someday and "support us in our old age!"

Everyone loved Bubba’s personality. He never knew a stranger and could work his way right into a crowd without noticing or caring if he’d invaded someone’s personal space. He was comfortable talking with adults and children looked up to him, following him like he was the Pied Piper. He was loved beyond measure and yet disciplined, when necessary. We had such high hopes for him. College. Military. Law school……after all, I told him, he was always one to find the loopholes in anything we told him he couldn’t do. He kept us on our toes!

What ever he wanted to do in life, we knew he’d be a success. We thought he’d finally break the cycle of alcohol abuse and the bad choices made by his birth family with our love, encouragement and our never-ending faith in his abilities.

Instead, the dark days of adolescence and the ghosts of his past began taking root in his susceptible heart and we mistakenly believed his behavior to be normal teenage angst and rebellion. It got worse. There were lies and manipulation, theft, drugs and alcohol. Near death experiences. Then, thankfully, his genuine plea for help. Rehab and family counseling. A change in heart and my ol’ Bubba returning to me. Fear, great disappointment in himself and the fact that his Papa was dying, seemed to be a catalyst for a new way of living.

But only for a short time.

Another near death episode and it was decided that it was now time for a longer stint in rehab. We couldn’t lose him. We’d seen that change was possible and we knew that relapse was a possibility. He knew that was the next step. At 16 years old, he was on his way to long term drug rehabilitation.

Rather than returning to rehab, he ran. All the way to Oklahoma. Back to that troubled blood line and an unstructured, undisciplined life. Living with his drunken "Mom" and "his family" and making it clear that he’d just run away again if he was made to come back home.

Today he is 18 years old and my legal obligation is over. I have to say it’s a relief in a lot of ways. It’s been 14 months since he left and my grief at the loss isn’t as raw. It was like I had two deaths in the family during that time. I don’t worry about him like I used to and I don’t choke on my bitterness anymore.

I still have the greatest hope that Papa and I had enough positive influence on him that he’ll succeed in spite of it all. I know that I am his mother. I am the one who rocked him and sang to him every night when he first came to us. I am the one who read him stories, took him to the doctor, comforted him when he was sick and dried his tears when the big stray dogs scared him to death, by jumping on him. I am the one who attended his basketball games and wrestling matches, did teacher conferences, and elementary and junior high graduations. We are his "family" that celebrated milestones, holidays and birthdays, all lovingly documented in scrapbooks. This mom created "Gotcha Day"…. a day of kid selected fun to celebrate their adoption on the 7th day of August each year.

I am the mother that stayed at his hospital bedside for hours when he nearly died from drug or alcohol overdoses. I am the mom that loved him enough to send him to drug rehab.

I am also the Mom who loves him enough to let go and let him grow into the man I have always hoped he would. Here’s hoping he’ll someday understand what true mothering is all about.

                          Happy Birthday Bubba!

Hello from Fly Boy!

Here's the latest photo of Fly Boy, fresh from Iraq that he sent the other day.  Is that a handsome young man, or what?

I just love this modern technology, where he can send a photo or quick message via the internet.  In an effort to be efficient, he'll send one email message to his dad and I at our seperate email addresses, with the heading......"Dear Mom and Dad" and it just cracks me up, since his dad and I have been divorced for over 20 years!

Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers! 

Love,

Lisa

 

Fly Boy and the Election

Fly Boy telephoned this morning to inform me that he wouldn't be in touch for awhile because of heightened security at their base, as a precaution during the election.  I won't go into details, but it makes perfect sense to me.  Now, it is Sunday in Iraq and the election has started. We can only pray that it goes better than expected because the insurgents have made it clear that they will cause major problems.   From what I have already read on internet news, they've kept their promise.  Suicide bombings have started.

Yesterday my heart did flip-flops when I heard that a Kiowa chopper went down near Baghdad. I wasn't at peace until we were notified by his unit that the downed helicopter wasn't from Mortaritaville.  It really doesn't matter that those killed weren't from his unit, they were brother and sister soldiers to my son.  It's more loss of precious life in this awful war and I am quickly becoming weary of it all.  Another mother's son or daughter, a father's pride and joy, a father, a brother, a husband/wife, who may have even attended flight school with my son.  Gone.  

The sad news of another crash on the heels of the Marine chopper that went down with a death toll of 31, was almost enough to put me over the edge.  A nightmare come true, for their families. 

When will all of this end? 

Birthdays

 

 

     

I didn't get around to doing an entry for Ab's very special 13th birthday last month, so I am posting this photo of her cake and using this entry to send loving birthday wishes skyward to my Papa who would have celebrated his 69th birthday today!  Ab doesn't mind sharing her cake!  I hope you heard me sing to you today!

 

                 Happy Heavenly Birthday Papa!

Missing Papa

Tomorrow is Papa’s birthday and he’s been on my mind a little more than usual. And…it had to happen, even once tonight…well meaning acquaintances that I haven’t seen since his death or they didn’t see the obituary just happen to ask, "How’s your Dad?" Is there anything more awkward for both parties?

I am searching my memories for special remembrances because I am feeling like they’re slipping away and that scares me. I grab at any little thing that will keep me connected to him.......

What would Papa say about that? Those were his favorite pair of shoes. Boy he’d get riled up when Abbie and Bubba used his fingernail clippers and never put them back. Papa would have ordered this off the menu. We used to take Sunday drives and he’d play "Slug Bug" with the kids. He’d want to know all about that officer killed in the line of duty last week. Papa loved this….or that. Remember when………….

So tonight, rather than make this a totally downer type entry, I thought I’d share one of my favorite Papa memories….. To give you a little background, Papa would "babysit" my kids when I was working various shifts. About 15 years ago, when my oldest daughter was a teenager and she was constantly monopolizing the telephone, this was the message he placed on his answering machine……..

You have reached 822-5555. Obviously you’ve called for Tammy, and since she didn’t answer, that means she’s not here. She’s probably at Rachel’s house, so call there. If she’s not there, try Michelle’s. If that doesn’t work, you might find her at Heather’s. Or, maybe Rebecca’s……

Papa was pretty polite and was often exasperated when kids didn’t identify themselves when calling. He expected them to identify themselves and then say "May I speak to --------?" Of course that never happened, and every once in awhile when he was feeling rather ornery the conversation went like this…….

Papa: Hullo?

Kid: Uhhh, Is Tammy there?

Papa: Why, yes she is! Thanks for asking! Goodbye.

 

Miss you Papa!  :)

 

A Change...in plans and in decor.

I postponed our trip to Disneyland last weekend, for several reasons. Mostly because I had a bad case of the redecorating bug after watching Home and Garden Television on a regular basis lately. I decided my little family room could be totally transformed if only I’d rearrange the furniture around the room’s "focal point" just like I learned on HGTV. It really wasn’t that simple.

The fairly new sofa sleeper I had in the room, was just way too big to turn toward the fireplace, which I decided should be the focal point. It’s a beautiful brick fireplace and I always enjoy changing the decorations on the mantle for the seasons, or whenever I get a few new knickknacks that I need to show off. If the fireplace became the focal point, and the sofa was turned facing it, one would have to sit in an awkward position to watch the television in the entertainment center on the wall that was opposite the sofa. Not good for the neck and certainly not an appealing look for the room. The massive oak entertainment center could not be moved easily due to the television cable and stereo connections that moi, a girly girl, who’s electronically challenged….couldn’t reconnect by myself. And besides, it was just too damn heavy for me to move. Where’s a man when you need one?

So, my solution? I just went to the local (well, they want us to shop locally) furniture store and bought a new love seat and a comfy rocker recliner, and created a new, cozy seating arrangement in front of the entertainment center, which remained the focal point after all. I then headed to the local KMart and bought a nice striped floor rug with all the perfect colors to pull it all together. The only thing missing was a suitable coffee table that would fit nicely in front of the love seat so I went on a marathon shopping trip to find that perfect table. It was no where to be found down the West side of the mountain. I hit every store imaginable, including Pier One Imports.

At Target, in their World Bazaar section, I found a white wooden bench, in the perfect size that I decided would "work" as a coffee table if I painted it a color to go with the new furniture. Little did I know I’d find an absolutely perfect table, in the form of a trunk at TJ Maxx the next evening. The color, size and height was just right and in decorating speak…"it completed the look for a stylish, colorful and inviting room" in my home. I am so thrilled with the look and here’s some pictures for you to see for yourself. I am only sorry I didn’t do "before" shots for you to really see the transformation.

Oh, and you're all invited to come for a visit to try out the cozy loveseat.  But please, make  reservations because the room is so small, we can only handle two guests at a time, since I'll be in the recliner! 

 

A few of my fellow journalers did this exercise, so I thought I'd play along.  It took some real effort and introspect to fill in the blanks.  It's kinda like what we have inmates fill out when they first come into the system to see if they need to be in the mental health program.  Man, I wonder what a therapist would say about my answers!

 

I am not: punctual. I know

I hurt: deeply. people I love the most

I love: my family and friends completely. my family--two- and four-legged
I hate: black widow spiders.

I fear: growing old, sick and helpless.

I hope: for peace on earth.

I hear: everything going on in the room, unless I purposely tune it out.,

I crave: a forever love.

I regret: that my mother and I didn’t have a better relationship.

I cry: so easily.

I care: about others.

I always: watch for Red Tailed Hawks.

I long to: travel and take photographs. l

I feel alone: right now.

I listen: to the lyrics in country music.

I hide: in my house behind my standards

I drive: lost in thought sometimes. huge-ass van

I sing: softly so others can’t hear how bad it really sounds.

I dance:seldom. working

I write: because I can and must for my sanity. keep myself sane
I breathe: clean, crisp mountain air. time (did I just admit I?m a mouth-
I play: with Riley when she visits.

I miss: Papa, my sister; Kim and my maternal Grandma Jeanne.

I feel: sad a lot.

I know: what I want in life. myself better than anyone else ever will
I say: what is on my mind.

I search: for God and truth.

I learn: something from everything I experience.

 doing
I succeed: when I decide I will.

I fail: to be a good sister at times.

I dream: of someone to share the rest of my life.

in glorious living color
I sleep: soundly.

I wonder: if there is really an afterlife. was given such a wonderful man toe
I want: order in my life.

I worry: needlessly, most of the time. myself out of a really great opportunity
I have: so much more than I need. life that many would envy, yet I often feel d
I give: freely. l

I fight: for those I love.

I wait: impatiently.

I need: my dad's wisdom.

I am: grieving. a

I think: there is that special someone out there for me.

I can not help the fact that: Bubba ran away.

ople person
I stay: quiet at work, rather than risk putting my foot in my mouth. inside my own head way too much

I Went and Got the T-Shirt!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We had to change our plans for our Disneyland trip to next weekend, because Ab decided that taking a friend would be way more fun than having to endure her "overly-positive" mother at the "Happiest Place on Earth!" (I guess if that that’s the worst thing she says about me, then I am doing all right!) In the meantime, I must find my own friend to go along so the child and her friend, won’t be subjected to too much of her mother’s disgustingly sweet commentary on the enchanting surroundings.

So yesterday, spontaneous woman that I am, I remembered Cher was performing that very night in B-Town and took my chances at obtaining some tickets online. Much to the horror of the girl child who was destined to be my date if I couldn’t find a friend to accompany me, I SCORED!!!! Yep. Two tickets, in the first risers just off the left end stage and we were about 50 feet away from her! She’d often come to the end of the stage, turn and perform right in front of us, ahem..Abbie and I. Ab really seemed to loosen up and enjoy Cher and commented on how young she looks. Her body is amazing but in my humble opinion, her face looks a little too perfect.

This is the second time I have been able to see Cher on her Farewell Tour. It’s not really clear how long she’s going to be saying goodbye, but I could watch her perform over and over again. She is truly a diva after all her years in the business and to Britney Spears, J-Lo and the rest of those youngsters that consider themselves superstars she says…"Follow this you bitches!" Her costumes were stunning and the show had a circus theme that she opened with….Ladies and Gentlemen, and Flamboyant Gentlemen, Welcome to The Cherist Show on Earth! Brightly dressed dancers did amazing stunts from big metal rings and ribbons dangling from the ceiling while she performed hit after hit. During her costume changes the audience was entertained by a video that included clips from the Sonny and Cher Show, her many movies, appearances on talk shows and with many of the famous people she’s had the opportunity to perform with in the past, like Ray Charles, Lucy, Carol Burnett, etc.

The Village People were the colorful opening act and they were awesome. Ab wasn’t nearly as impressed, but she admitted they were entertaining. The crowd was enthusiastic and on their feet throughout most of their performance which included their hits…Macho Man, In the Navy and of course, the favorite..YMCA! They gave us lessons on the proper way to form the letters, saying they’ve heard of and seen too many improper moves at wedding receptions and Bar Mitzvahs! Now we can say we’ve got the directions straight from the horse’s mouth!

Yeah, I went and got the T-Shirt too!