Scooter had a great day at school yesterday. Her teacher commented that she's extremely quiet, but that they'll hopefully get her out of her shell before the year's over.
Once she was "safely" in the car with Ben, though, she was a ball of communication. She called me at work, where I asked about her first day and was told that the best part was that they had TWO recesses. One after lunch, like normal, and one before math. Probably a good idea to get the stink off (as my mom would say) before settling down for some major brain work. Her other favorite part was gym class. They had a jungle gym INSIDE, and two tarzan ropes over big mats that they swung across, and a maze made out of tall mats set up (which the teacher switched up every so often). The other best part was getting to use a calculator at math class. She's never used a calculator before. The other best part was that all the girls came up to her to ask her to be their friend. The other best part was lunch - she liked how it was set up where she could just choose whatever she wanted and then "pay" for it with her lunch ID.
She had nearly an hour of homework last night. She had to practice her spelling words by writing them each 5 times. She had 10 words, plus 5 "bonus" words. One of her bonus words was ambidextrous, which she practiced by writing it with both her left hand and then her right. Afterall, part of spelling is also learning the word and what it means. She also had to read for 20-30 minutes. Luckily, with Scooter, that's hardly a chore. She loves to read. She did want to hang out w/ Bubba while she did so, though. I made her sit in her room with me while she read, and I put laundry away so she wouldn't be so distracted. Bubba was watching a mickey mouse clip on the computer and playing.
It was a great start to getting her into a routine. I had to sign off on her homework, and send it back to school today. This morning, Scooter rode the bus for the first time (since leaving our house in Omaha). Even though the school is less than a mile away, they expect all students to ride the bus or get dropped off by their parents - nobody walks to school. I find that extremely odd, considering the walkability of Beaverton and the number of active people you see around town at all hours. But I suppose with gym classes like those and two recesses daily (plus swim lessons and trips to the park), Scooter will have enough exercise. I'm excited to find out how school went today.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
"first" day
There's 16 days left of school out here. Well...15, now. School's almost out for the day. I took Scooter to her first day of school today. I would have liked a few more days to kind of get her ready for it (since that job is falling soley on us), but it was better now than later. Ben has to work, and Scooter would have been bored at the house - and unwelcome at daycare. She needs to be in school.
We got to walk around with her teacher a little bit before school, checking out the different hallways, her classroom, and the recess area. Kids were everywhere. The school building itself is much older than Scooter's old school in Omaha, but it's a really good school in a very good school district. The faculty and staff seem to know all the kids there, and the projects and artwork on the walls in the 2nd grade wing were pretty impressive. I hope Scooter is prepared for this.
The cafeteria is set up much like the one in the hospitals where I work. There's a serving counter thing where kids walk by and grab what they want, and then 2 other pods of cold drinks (or yogurt in the morning). All kids have free breakfast if they want it. Then, they wait in one of four lines to check out. There are 2 "cashiers" who supervise the kids punching in their student IDs while they "ring" up what's on their trays. It all gets fed into an online system where parents can add $$ to their kids' meal accounts, but then also monitor what their kids are taking for lunch. It may not be completely accurate as to what they're eating, but it will at least show what they checked out with at each meal - including free breakfast. Pretty interesting (to me).
Scooter was so nervous this morning that she was almost shaking. So scared. More so than she was on her first day of kindergarten. But then again, she was probably better adjusted and more confident in kindergarten than she is today. That was one of the things that her teacher in Omaha noted at conferences this year. I'm hoping that in a couple of months, when she's back with us on a more permanent basis, that she'll again feel secure and confident in herself. This year was a time of uncertainty and stress, and it would have been difficult for a well-adjusted adult to navigate. I think we're making baby steps in the right direction, though. Bubba had Scooter laughing so hard yesterday that Scooter couldn't breathe. I love watching those two interact. He was lost without her, and hopefully, he'll help her find her way now that we're together again.
We got to walk around with her teacher a little bit before school, checking out the different hallways, her classroom, and the recess area. Kids were everywhere. The school building itself is much older than Scooter's old school in Omaha, but it's a really good school in a very good school district. The faculty and staff seem to know all the kids there, and the projects and artwork on the walls in the 2nd grade wing were pretty impressive. I hope Scooter is prepared for this.
The cafeteria is set up much like the one in the hospitals where I work. There's a serving counter thing where kids walk by and grab what they want, and then 2 other pods of cold drinks (or yogurt in the morning). All kids have free breakfast if they want it. Then, they wait in one of four lines to check out. There are 2 "cashiers" who supervise the kids punching in their student IDs while they "ring" up what's on their trays. It all gets fed into an online system where parents can add $$ to their kids' meal accounts, but then also monitor what their kids are taking for lunch. It may not be completely accurate as to what they're eating, but it will at least show what they checked out with at each meal - including free breakfast. Pretty interesting (to me).
Scooter was so nervous this morning that she was almost shaking. So scared. More so than she was on her first day of kindergarten. But then again, she was probably better adjusted and more confident in kindergarten than she is today. That was one of the things that her teacher in Omaha noted at conferences this year. I'm hoping that in a couple of months, when she's back with us on a more permanent basis, that she'll again feel secure and confident in herself. This year was a time of uncertainty and stress, and it would have been difficult for a well-adjusted adult to navigate. I think we're making baby steps in the right direction, though. Bubba had Scooter laughing so hard yesterday that Scooter couldn't breathe. I love watching those two interact. He was lost without her, and hopefully, he'll help her find her way now that we're together again.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Home again, home again, jiggety jig...
I got into Omaha late. Not "too" late, mind you, but late enough that we didn't have time to leave the airport for a picnic. We had planned on going across the street to a park, but I got in around 1:30, and by the time I actually got off the plane, etc, we were running short on time. 1st, we ran down and checked in for our next flight. Next, we went to the bathroom. I hadn't eaten anything or used a restroom all day. Lastly, we had our "picnic" in the food court area outside of security.
It was delicious. It was also a lot of fun. And...I was kind of glad we didn't leave the airport. As we were deplaning, I briefly experience the hot, humid air of Omaha, Nebraska and quickly thanked my lucky stars that I don't live there, anymore. It was like a sauna out there. It wasn't particularly hot, but it was sweaty nonetheless. Again, I was reminded of a colleague I had while I worked at Offwire. He actually lives in Portland, and kind of (really) talked up moving out here. He once said to me, "You are an American. You can live anywhere you want! Any kind of climate is yours to choose from. In my country [he's from Kuwait], you have your citizenship, and whatever city you were born in, that's where you live. But in America...you have a choice. I never did figure out why people, who have this choice, would choose to live in the midwest." I can kind of see his point.
When I flew back twice a month to see Scooter this winter, I had to shovel the driveway every time. And now, unexpectedly, it's a sweat box outside. Portland might be having one of the coldest springs on record, but when it's sunny, it's BEAUTIFUL, and when it's "cold," it's still in the 50s. This is my kind of weather.
Anyway, after a lovely lunch with my mom (which was completely pest-free), Scooter and I packed up her backpack, and headed through security. We had enough time to grab a bottle of water on the other side of security before boarding the flight to Vegas. Scooter was completely unimpressed with the "gambling machines." In fact, they seemed to offend her in some fashion. But with such a long layover, we didn't have much to do besides walk on the people-movers and count people playing the slots. We also rode the tram from C terminal to the main terminal over and over again. The 7:40 departure turned into an 8:10 departure. Boo! Southwest had a 25% on-time percentage on this trip, which is in keeping with our experiences with them lately. Lame. We arrived in Portland only 15 minutes late. Unfortunately, some horrific traffic kept Ben and Bubba from picking us up until 11:15 or so. We got home very late, but were still able to appreciate the streamers, banner, and balloons that the boys spent all afternoon working on.
In Scooter's words, "It's good to be home. I call this place 'home' because it's where I'm supposed to be." I couldn't agree more.
It was delicious. It was also a lot of fun. And...I was kind of glad we didn't leave the airport. As we were deplaning, I briefly experience the hot, humid air of Omaha, Nebraska and quickly thanked my lucky stars that I don't live there, anymore. It was like a sauna out there. It wasn't particularly hot, but it was sweaty nonetheless. Again, I was reminded of a colleague I had while I worked at Offwire. He actually lives in Portland, and kind of (really) talked up moving out here. He once said to me, "You are an American. You can live anywhere you want! Any kind of climate is yours to choose from. In my country [he's from Kuwait], you have your citizenship, and whatever city you were born in, that's where you live. But in America...you have a choice. I never did figure out why people, who have this choice, would choose to live in the midwest." I can kind of see his point.
When I flew back twice a month to see Scooter this winter, I had to shovel the driveway every time. And now, unexpectedly, it's a sweat box outside. Portland might be having one of the coldest springs on record, but when it's sunny, it's BEAUTIFUL, and when it's "cold," it's still in the 50s. This is my kind of weather.
Anyway, after a lovely lunch with my mom (which was completely pest-free), Scooter and I packed up her backpack, and headed through security. We had enough time to grab a bottle of water on the other side of security before boarding the flight to Vegas. Scooter was completely unimpressed with the "gambling machines." In fact, they seemed to offend her in some fashion. But with such a long layover, we didn't have much to do besides walk on the people-movers and count people playing the slots. We also rode the tram from C terminal to the main terminal over and over again. The 7:40 departure turned into an 8:10 departure. Boo! Southwest had a 25% on-time percentage on this trip, which is in keeping with our experiences with them lately. Lame. We arrived in Portland only 15 minutes late. Unfortunately, some horrific traffic kept Ben and Bubba from picking us up until 11:15 or so. We got home very late, but were still able to appreciate the streamers, banner, and balloons that the boys spent all afternoon working on.
In Scooter's words, "It's good to be home. I call this place 'home' because it's where I'm supposed to be." I couldn't agree more.
to market, to market, to buy a fat pig...
My stomach had pretty bad butterflies all week last week. It was hard to tell what, exactly, was going to happen on Saturday. I had officially designated my mom as the "adult" who would pick Scooter up on the 21st, but that was met with some resistance. It was touch and go for a few days, there. The other thing to be nervous about was flying. I normally love flying. I have no fears about boarding a long metal tube and being hurtled 500 miles per hour through the sky several miles above the earth. I kind of like it, other than the people I generally have to sit by. The thing I was nervous about was the timing of everything. I was supposed to leave Portland at 6:30am, arrive in Denver at 10am, leave Denver at 10:40am, and get into Omaha at 1pm. From there, Scooter and I were booked on a flight leaving at 3pm to Las Vegas (arriving at 4:20pm), then taking off at 7:40pm and arriving in Portland again at 10pm.
Right off the bat, things went wrong. I was safely on my flight at 6:15, and we were preparing for take off, when the pilot announced that we may or may not need a new plane. One of his instruments was broken...I called Ben. At that point, the customer service people, the flight attendants, and the pilot all assured me that I'd still make it to Denver by 10 or 10:20 - plenty of time to make my 10:40 flight. By 7:15, we were boarding another plane. We took off right around 8am. Oh, man...The flight attendant made an announcement that we *should* still make several connections, but if the Omaha people miss their 10:40 flight, there's no problem. There's another flight leaving Denver that'll get us into Omaha by 8pm. I started crying. By 8pm, there are no flights leaving Omaha to go back to Portland. If I remember correctly, the last one is at 6:45pm.
The fight attendant came by to get people's connection information so the pilot could check on gates for us. I told him my story: I'm flying to Omaha to pick up my daughter after a lengthy custody battle. She and I are scheduled for a 3pm return flight from Omaha. If I miss the connection now in Denver, I don't make it to Omaha in time for us to fly back. PLUS, my 7 year old is stranded at the airport... Please. Is there any way to hold that flight in Denver? His reply? "Ma'am. Nobody on this aircraft has the authority to hold flights on the ground." I said ok. DARN IT!!!
An hour or so later, the pilot made an announcement with gate locations. We were flying into C49 (far north end of the terminal). The Omaha flight is at C31 (far south end of the terminal). We landed at 10:42. I waited like a nice girl in row 11 (exit row!!) for the first 60 people to de-plane. The man sitting in the aisle was nice enough to let me out first. I RAN all the way to C31. I got my phone out and turned it on as I was running. Ben called about 1/2 way to my gate. I told him I was running, and I'd have to call him back. I got to the end of the terminal, where there are a bunch of gates all clustered around the end. A ground crew guy called out, "Going to Omaha?" I said YES!!! I handed him my ticket, and thanked him profusely. As I was going down the jetway, I called Ben to see if he'd call Mom to tell her I made it. I made it! I started crying again.
As I made my way down the airplane to find the very last seat on the flight, I noticed that there was nobody standing in the aisle, adjusting overhead bin luggage. There was nobody shifting around their seat, to arrange their under the seat storage. Everyone already had their seat belts on. They were all looking at me. I took my seat (a middle, of course), and a flight attendant handed me a bunch of tissues. I said thanks, and we were on our way...
Right off the bat, things went wrong. I was safely on my flight at 6:15, and we were preparing for take off, when the pilot announced that we may or may not need a new plane. One of his instruments was broken...I called Ben. At that point, the customer service people, the flight attendants, and the pilot all assured me that I'd still make it to Denver by 10 or 10:20 - plenty of time to make my 10:40 flight. By 7:15, we were boarding another plane. We took off right around 8am. Oh, man...The flight attendant made an announcement that we *should* still make several connections, but if the Omaha people miss their 10:40 flight, there's no problem. There's another flight leaving Denver that'll get us into Omaha by 8pm. I started crying. By 8pm, there are no flights leaving Omaha to go back to Portland. If I remember correctly, the last one is at 6:45pm.
The fight attendant came by to get people's connection information so the pilot could check on gates for us. I told him my story: I'm flying to Omaha to pick up my daughter after a lengthy custody battle. She and I are scheduled for a 3pm return flight from Omaha. If I miss the connection now in Denver, I don't make it to Omaha in time for us to fly back. PLUS, my 7 year old is stranded at the airport... Please. Is there any way to hold that flight in Denver? His reply? "Ma'am. Nobody on this aircraft has the authority to hold flights on the ground." I said ok. DARN IT!!!
An hour or so later, the pilot made an announcement with gate locations. We were flying into C49 (far north end of the terminal). The Omaha flight is at C31 (far south end of the terminal). We landed at 10:42. I waited like a nice girl in row 11 (exit row!!) for the first 60 people to de-plane. The man sitting in the aisle was nice enough to let me out first. I RAN all the way to C31. I got my phone out and turned it on as I was running. Ben called about 1/2 way to my gate. I told him I was running, and I'd have to call him back. I got to the end of the terminal, where there are a bunch of gates all clustered around the end. A ground crew guy called out, "Going to Omaha?" I said YES!!! I handed him my ticket, and thanked him profusely. As I was going down the jetway, I called Ben to see if he'd call Mom to tell her I made it. I made it! I started crying again.
As I made my way down the airplane to find the very last seat on the flight, I noticed that there was nobody standing in the aisle, adjusting overhead bin luggage. There was nobody shifting around their seat, to arrange their under the seat storage. Everyone already had their seat belts on. They were all looking at me. I took my seat (a middle, of course), and a flight attendant handed me a bunch of tissues. I said thanks, and we were on our way...
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Boring, boring, you're ok, boring...
I was just discussing with Ben the other night how this blog has really gone down-hill from when I first started. First of all, it's just a re-hashing of the same old, boring business of angry ex, ex's crazy new wife
and other such nonsense. In short, I need a new topic. Or at least a new theme. Don't get me wrong; I still have plenty of ammo on why I feel as scared and "hellish" as ever (don't worry...I'm still going), but it's just more of the same. The ex has gone insane, alienating my mom, cutting my phone time with my daughter down to < 10 supervised minutes (yeah, it really is prison over there) per day, threatening to keep Scooter on the 21st if I am "unable or unwilling to care for her ON the 21st." What does that even mean? The order clearly states me or my designated adult... But enough. ENOUGH! It's time to find a new topic.
Pennies? Yeah, that's an over-used subject of mine as well (by the way, I've found 3 this week, and Ben found TWO DOLLARS yesterday).
Hair? It's already gone.
Kids? That's always a good topic with me. Except, I can only report on one at the moment. The other one may as well be a galaxy away. I'm so nervous about this weekend, I can't even think straight. But the one that I can report on is doing well. He's talking a lot, and his feet, at least, have just completed a growth spurt. His favorite shoes had to be retired this morning. It will be a sad day for everyone when he figures out just what that means. He also needs a hair cut. In the interest of saving money, I'd like to cut it myself. In the interest of saving his eyes and/or fingers, I won't. He really, really hates it when I touch his hair. He'll shake his head around while slapping at it with his hands. Things could get out of control very quickly if I came at him with a pair of scissors. We'll see, though...maybe I can attack while he's sleeping...
Pennies? Yeah, that's an over-used subject of mine as well (by the way, I've found 3 this week, and Ben found TWO DOLLARS yesterday).
Hair? It's already gone.
Kids? That's always a good topic with me. Except, I can only report on one at the moment. The other one may as well be a galaxy away. I'm so nervous about this weekend, I can't even think straight. But the one that I can report on is doing well. He's talking a lot, and his feet, at least, have just completed a growth spurt. His favorite shoes had to be retired this morning. It will be a sad day for everyone when he figures out just what that means. He also needs a hair cut. In the interest of saving money, I'd like to cut it myself. In the interest of saving his eyes and/or fingers, I won't. He really, really hates it when I touch his hair. He'll shake his head around while slapping at it with his hands. Things could get out of control very quickly if I came at him with a pair of scissors. We'll see, though...maybe I can attack while he's sleeping...
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Single digits
***I wrote this several days ago. I'm not sure why it was sitting in my drafts folder. Sorry!***
I talked to Scooter last night. Surprising, I know. Actually, last night's conversation seemed almost normal. Except for the end, where it was rushed and weird because it was 8:25, and Lord knows we can't talk a minute past that, even if she calls me at 8:22. But that's a story for another time.
We're in the single digits for # of days until I see her again. We're both excited about that. She was excited about 6 more school days. I was excited about 4 more spin classes. We each have our ways of coping, I guess.
I found 2 pennies yesterday. Earlier in the week, I found a quarter. Tuesday, I found 4 pennies. This is a lucrative week to live in Portland. Ben even found a dime yesterday. In fact, in the past two and a half weeks, we've found 93 cents. That's almost 1/2 a load of laundry. Oh, man, I'm looking forward to living in a bigger apartment with a washer and dryer in it.
We've decided to put off buying a house. It was a tough decision, and we even went so far as to ask our lawyer about the legal ramifications of being fiscally responsible, er, of not buying a bigger house this year. We're still stalking "our" neighborhood, though. Rationale is that we should be able to save quite a bit of money in an apartment, and if a deal opens up in "our" neighborhood, it's only a couple hundred $$ to break the lease and take the house. But with an appeal looming ahead of us, and the wad of money we're paying to sell our Omaha house...we just can't bring ourselves to stretch that thin right now. We try to be financially responsible when we can. For instance, we always pick change up when we see it on the ground. :)
I talked to Scooter last night. Surprising, I know. Actually, last night's conversation seemed almost normal. Except for the end, where it was rushed and weird because it was 8:25, and Lord knows we can't talk a minute past that, even if she calls me at 8:22. But that's a story for another time.
We're in the single digits for # of days until I see her again. We're both excited about that. She was excited about 6 more school days. I was excited about 4 more spin classes. We each have our ways of coping, I guess.
I found 2 pennies yesterday. Earlier in the week, I found a quarter. Tuesday, I found 4 pennies. This is a lucrative week to live in Portland. Ben even found a dime yesterday. In fact, in the past two and a half weeks, we've found 93 cents. That's almost 1/2 a load of laundry. Oh, man, I'm looking forward to living in a bigger apartment with a washer and dryer in it.
We've decided to put off buying a house. It was a tough decision, and we even went so far as to ask our lawyer about the legal ramifications of being fiscally responsible, er, of not buying a bigger house this year. We're still stalking "our" neighborhood, though. Rationale is that we should be able to save quite a bit of money in an apartment, and if a deal opens up in "our" neighborhood, it's only a couple hundred $$ to break the lease and take the house. But with an appeal looming ahead of us, and the wad of money we're paying to sell our Omaha house...we just can't bring ourselves to stretch that thin right now. We try to be financially responsible when we can. For instance, we always pick change up when we see it on the ground. :)
Friday, May 13, 2011
3 more days!
Ok, there's really 7. But there's only 3 more spin classes. And after today, there's only 1of each day left. One more Monday, one more Sunday, etc. yay!!!
Last night's conversation was less than 5 minutes. There's absolutely nothing worse than hearing Vicky screeching at Scooter in the background when I'm on the phone with her. Seriously?! Seriously. And I would have every (legal) right to hang up on that woman if she ever tries to call Scooter when Scooter's out here. But will I? No. Because that's not healthy for my daughter, emotionally. Just like it doesn't make her feel good when you squawk at her to get off the phone when she's talking to her MOM. At one point last week, when Vicky was screeching, Scooter said, "oh! I have to go!" and kind of cut off all conversation. I said, "No you don't. What is this?! Prison?!" Scooter laughed and said, "Yeah. Kind of." After a little coaxing, I convinced her and she said, "Yeah. I CAN talk a little longer." It was refreshing. But generally, we play by the ex's (and most times, the ex's wife's) rules.
Due to a certain nickname that she has, I've taken to calling Vicky, Taun-taun. (Yeah, I'm a nerd who makes Star Wars references. So what?). I won't do that in front of Scooter, either. But everytime I think of calling her taun-taun, I laugh and laugh. It's the little things, right?
Bubba's new fun thing to do is to do impersonations. It's pretty funny, and we all crack up. He probably laughs the hardest. He also gets really intense and shakes every so often. But not because he's having a seizure. Just because he thinks it's funny to flex every muscle he has while stretching his face out like he's scared or smiling too widely. It's hilarious.
I had the opportunity to go back and work on some reports that I completed back in October, right after I started. You know what? It was barely recognizeable as my own work. I have improved so much in the past 7 months, it's crazy. A year ago, I was just learning what a stored procedure was, and now, I write all my reports as procs first. And it's easier. And faster. And better. Man, I'm really happy that I made this career advancement. I'm learning a lot. I'm improving my skills daily. I'm a lot happier, and added bonus! I'm making more money. Sure...I almost bankrupted my family in order to do this, but I really, really believe that this was the right choice. I just hope the rest of everything falls into place accordingly.
Last night's conversation was less than 5 minutes. There's absolutely nothing worse than hearing Vicky screeching at Scooter in the background when I'm on the phone with her. Seriously?! Seriously. And I would have every (legal) right to hang up on that woman if she ever tries to call Scooter when Scooter's out here. But will I? No. Because that's not healthy for my daughter, emotionally. Just like it doesn't make her feel good when you squawk at her to get off the phone when she's talking to her MOM. At one point last week, when Vicky was screeching, Scooter said, "oh! I have to go!" and kind of cut off all conversation. I said, "No you don't. What is this?! Prison?!" Scooter laughed and said, "Yeah. Kind of." After a little coaxing, I convinced her and she said, "Yeah. I CAN talk a little longer." It was refreshing. But generally, we play by the ex's (and most times, the ex's wife's) rules.
Due to a certain nickname that she has, I've taken to calling Vicky, Taun-taun. (Yeah, I'm a nerd who makes Star Wars references. So what?). I won't do that in front of Scooter, either. But everytime I think of calling her taun-taun, I laugh and laugh. It's the little things, right?
Bubba's new fun thing to do is to do impersonations. It's pretty funny, and we all crack up. He probably laughs the hardest. He also gets really intense and shakes every so often. But not because he's having a seizure. Just because he thinks it's funny to flex every muscle he has while stretching his face out like he's scared or smiling too widely. It's hilarious.
I had the opportunity to go back and work on some reports that I completed back in October, right after I started. You know what? It was barely recognizeable as my own work. I have improved so much in the past 7 months, it's crazy. A year ago, I was just learning what a stored procedure was, and now, I write all my reports as procs first. And it's easier. And faster. And better. Man, I'm really happy that I made this career advancement. I'm learning a lot. I'm improving my skills daily. I'm a lot happier, and added bonus! I'm making more money. Sure...I almost bankrupted my family in order to do this, but I really, really believe that this was the right choice. I just hope the rest of everything falls into place accordingly.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Inspirationless
I've been a little silent on here for a while. I guess I've run out of things to talk about. But, as any great writer will tell you, sometimes you just need to write, and the inspiration will come later. I don't purport to be a good writer, much less "great." In fact...I don't really see myself as a writer at all. Typing, on the other hand...I'm good at that.
A week ago yesterday, I fell on my way home. While the scab on my left knee is almost gone, a huge bruise remains, and it's still painful. I'm getting too old to fall down. My right knee still has 3 scabs on it. The 2 smaller ones are almost gone. The big one is still gross. Gross!
After skipping a bunch of spin classes, I started up again last Friday. In spin class, terms, I only have 4 more days until I leave to get Scooter. In real life, it's 9 days and a wake up. I'd rather think of it in spin class days...
Well, one of the things I was looking forward to has happened. I got my hair cut. Another thing to look forward to should happen either this week or early next: closing on the house. We ran into a few hiccups with closing - not on the buyer's side, which is what we're always scared of, but on our side. Yes, folks, the state automatically puts a lien on your house if you have a child support obligation. Nice. The lien can be released 1 of 2 ways: the ex signs a release (not going to happen), the state releases the lien because you don't owe anymore (has happened, except they won't release it until the ex's obligation starts: June 1st). ARGH!!! The title company is so kind as to accept a certified payment history from the state and the new order, releasing my child support obligation. Hopefully, we can make this happen.
Unfortunately, the ex won't have this problem if he ever sells his house - he's not on the title, so the state won't put a lien on his current house. Of course, as soon as he's in his new house this summer, the lien gets slapped on. So I guess there's a benefit to living rent-free with your girlfriend until she becomes your wife.
A week ago yesterday, I fell on my way home. While the scab on my left knee is almost gone, a huge bruise remains, and it's still painful. I'm getting too old to fall down. My right knee still has 3 scabs on it. The 2 smaller ones are almost gone. The big one is still gross. Gross!
After skipping a bunch of spin classes, I started up again last Friday. In spin class, terms, I only have 4 more days until I leave to get Scooter. In real life, it's 9 days and a wake up. I'd rather think of it in spin class days...
Well, one of the things I was looking forward to has happened. I got my hair cut. Another thing to look forward to should happen either this week or early next: closing on the house. We ran into a few hiccups with closing - not on the buyer's side, which is what we're always scared of, but on our side. Yes, folks, the state automatically puts a lien on your house if you have a child support obligation. Nice. The lien can be released 1 of 2 ways: the ex signs a release (not going to happen), the state releases the lien because you don't owe anymore (has happened, except they won't release it until the ex's obligation starts: June 1st). ARGH!!! The title company is so kind as to accept a certified payment history from the state and the new order, releasing my child support obligation. Hopefully, we can make this happen.
Unfortunately, the ex won't have this problem if he ever sells his house - he's not on the title, so the state won't put a lien on his current house. Of course, as soon as he's in his new house this summer, the lien gets slapped on. So I guess there's a benefit to living rent-free with your girlfriend until she becomes your wife.
The ex took his first step forward in the appeals process. Here come more stress hormones. Seriously. If humans were supposed to live like this, there wouldn't be such a thing as antacids - we'd all be used to this by now. I like how the ex's new wife (remember Vicky?)
sent me a psychology study that she obviously didn't read. It's title was something like "the effects of moving on children of divorced parents" or something. Basically, by reading the title, you'd think that it'd be a bad thing to move away from one parent. If she had actually read the study, she would have found that moving away from one parent can actually help a child's development if they are in a stable, loving home environment, especially if the parents' relationship is contentious. Well...I think a $100,000 (when you take into account both party's expenses when it's all said and done) court battle is pretty contentious. Also, the study strongly discouraged lengthy court battles, as those can have extremely negative effects on children of divorce. Hm...maybe they should back off a little.
Oh...and the study also said that in the case of divorce with children, the kids are often times better off if the non-custodial parent dies. I'm not going to go so far as to suggest anything. I'm just saying... before sending me studies about how kids shouldn't move with their loving, stable parent, maybe you should actually read them.
But enough about that nonsense. We're in the home stretch until Scooter comes home-home. I can't wait.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
It is done.
I'm pretty sure that Ben hates it. Or...he might not hate it-hate it, but he certainly prefers it long. That's just so weird to me. This is the cut that I always picture myself with when I think about me doing stuff. This is the cut that I always look forward to after I spend years growing it out for locks of love. I'm pretty sure this is the cut that "fits" me the best. It's strange, when you think about it. This is my favorite haircut, and it's the one that I generally have for the shortest amount of time. I might keep it up for a couple of months, but then I'm back to growing it out, again. Isn't it weird when you meet someone with a certain hairstyle, and then in an instant, it's all changed. Do you see them differently? Because maybe, that's who they've been all along.
I met Ben about a year after I started growing my hair out this past time. I couldn't fit it into a pony tail when we first started dating. It grew pretty quickly, but I went through a mini, mid-grow-out freak out and chopped a bunch off a couple of years ago. It wasn't enough for a donation, but it also wasn't enough to give me short hair, either. This is the first time he's experienced the hair that I've always had under neath all that length. I think it'll grow on him. Either that, or I'll grow it out. A year from now, I'll have the hair I had when he fell in love with me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not in mourning the whole time I grow my hair out. I've really enjoyed most of my "grow out" cuts. My last hair professional in Omaha did a fantastic job growing out my hair twice while always making me look "hip" and "pretty." Hopefully, this guy can do the same. I guess we'll find out, starting in 8 weeks.
I met Ben about a year after I started growing my hair out this past time. I couldn't fit it into a pony tail when we first started dating. It grew pretty quickly, but I went through a mini, mid-grow-out freak out and chopped a bunch off a couple of years ago. It wasn't enough for a donation, but it also wasn't enough to give me short hair, either. This is the first time he's experienced the hair that I've always had under neath all that length. I think it'll grow on him. Either that, or I'll grow it out. A year from now, I'll have the hair I had when he fell in love with me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not in mourning the whole time I grow my hair out. I've really enjoyed most of my "grow out" cuts. My last hair professional in Omaha did a fantastic job growing out my hair twice while always making me look "hip" and "pretty." Hopefully, this guy can do the same. I guess we'll find out, starting in 8 weeks.
insult? Meet injury
I fell down on my way home from work yesterday. It was embarrassing and painful, but not painfully embarrassing. I'm not quite sure what happened. I was crossing the street. Cross traffic had a stop sign, so the car I was watching was also watching me. He was waiting patiently for me to get safely to the other side of the street before going.
I picked up my left foot to step onto the curb, and it slipped off. To catch myself, I picked up my right foot to step onto the curb, except I didn't pick that one up high enough. My toe rammed into the side of the curb, and I went flying with the weight of my backpack pushing me to the ground. Oops. The worst part was not falling over in front of a car, though. The worst part was landing on my knees in my favorite pair of work pants. I skinned both my knees, and roughed up the palms of my hands. The right knee in my favorite pair of work pants might not make it.
I talked to my mom last night on the phone about it. She laughed and said, "do you want me to iron a giant, navy blue denim patch onto them?" ha ha ha. Ah...those were the days. But yeah. I kind of DO want a giant navy blue denim patch ironed onto my pants.
Today's the big hair day. Actually, it's the day my hair gets smaller. Much smaller. I can't wait 5 hours from now, I'll have short hair again. Maybe I should celebrate by swimming for my workout tomorrow morning...except they probably frown upon giant scabs in the lap pool...
I picked up my left foot to step onto the curb, and it slipped off. To catch myself, I picked up my right foot to step onto the curb, except I didn't pick that one up high enough. My toe rammed into the side of the curb, and I went flying with the weight of my backpack pushing me to the ground. Oops. The worst part was not falling over in front of a car, though. The worst part was landing on my knees in my favorite pair of work pants. I skinned both my knees, and roughed up the palms of my hands. The right knee in my favorite pair of work pants might not make it.
I talked to my mom last night on the phone about it. She laughed and said, "do you want me to iron a giant, navy blue denim patch onto them?" ha ha ha. Ah...those were the days. But yeah. I kind of DO want a giant navy blue denim patch ironed onto my pants.
Today's the big hair day. Actually, it's the day my hair gets smaller. Much smaller. I can't wait 5 hours from now, I'll have short hair again. Maybe I should celebrate by swimming for my workout tomorrow morning...except they probably frown upon giant scabs in the lap pool...
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Before
All I have left is a "wake up" until my hair cut. Yay!! Tomorrow, I'll lose probably 2 pounds without doing anything other than handing over a million dollars to a "celebrity" hair stylist. I've shopped around town, and I've landed at a salon that's about 2 blocks from where I work. I can't wait.
Ben took "before" pictures this morning, which I'll update to this blog this evening. I look fabulous. I know. Hopefully, I'll look better tomorrow night. I'll try to get some "after" photos posted tomorrow or Thursday. Hopefully, everything will turn out ok. Hair people tend to shy away from such dramatic changes, especially if they don't know me. But let's face it, people. I hate having long hair. I'll do it for a while, but it's always with the purpose to "give back to the kids." I recently joked that it's been so long since my last trim that most of my hair is damaged-ends. A friend said that kids have small heads, anyway, so they should be fine.
I finally made it back to the gym today, after a week off. It was horrible. First off, I'm tired. It's been several long days, recently. Stress has also been taking its toll. But I did get to talk to Scooter yesterday - twice! She sounded pretty good. I think she's looking forward to coming out here, but I've been made somewhat of a villain for not letting her play her last soccer game in Omaha. Her last game is at 2:30 on Sunday, with a little party afterward, and well....if we flew out after that, we'd have to take a 6pm flight or later. There aren't many flights leaving that late for PDX, in fact, I think there's just 1. And it doesn't get in until after midnight. So...no. We're leaving Omaha on Saturday. Flights are already booked.
I think I've been made a villain anyway, but in 7 year old terms, soccer is the sticking point. But you know what? She's 7. There can be 10-14 more years of soccer (if she chooses to continue to play), and she needs to get settled in her new home before school starts on Monday for her. I think if I sat down and gave her the choice of hanging out with her brother or playing soccer, Bubba would win, hands down, every time, anyway.
She was excited when we talked on Sunday, about going to the park yesterday with her dad. Last night when we talked, I found out that they spent a whopping 15 minutes at the park. Well...it's a good thing she wasn't allowed to go to the Children's Museum with my mom, then. She would have really missed out on some quality park time with her dad. He has not responded to any phone calls or emails. So...I guess when he told Scooter that she won't be going to summer camp with my mom, no amount of negotiation will sway him. Argh. Scooter looks forward to that camp every year. It's a great, wholesome, opportunity for her to hang out with her 9 cousins for a week. You should see them at that church camp. They're like a little gang. Unstoppable - except by the ex. So...she may miss this year as we wrangle with the courts to see if it's possible to make him abide by a court order. It seems like it's not possible, as he's gotten his way every time thus far. I guess time will tell.
Ben took "before" pictures this morning, which I'll update to this blog this evening. I look fabulous. I know. Hopefully, I'll look better tomorrow night. I'll try to get some "after" photos posted tomorrow or Thursday. Hopefully, everything will turn out ok. Hair people tend to shy away from such dramatic changes, especially if they don't know me. But let's face it, people. I hate having long hair. I'll do it for a while, but it's always with the purpose to "give back to the kids." I recently joked that it's been so long since my last trim that most of my hair is damaged-ends. A friend said that kids have small heads, anyway, so they should be fine.
I finally made it back to the gym today, after a week off. It was horrible. First off, I'm tired. It's been several long days, recently. Stress has also been taking its toll. But I did get to talk to Scooter yesterday - twice! She sounded pretty good. I think she's looking forward to coming out here, but I've been made somewhat of a villain for not letting her play her last soccer game in Omaha. Her last game is at 2:30 on Sunday, with a little party afterward, and well....if we flew out after that, we'd have to take a 6pm flight or later. There aren't many flights leaving that late for PDX, in fact, I think there's just 1. And it doesn't get in until after midnight. So...no. We're leaving Omaha on Saturday. Flights are already booked.
I think I've been made a villain anyway, but in 7 year old terms, soccer is the sticking point. But you know what? She's 7. There can be 10-14 more years of soccer (if she chooses to continue to play), and she needs to get settled in her new home before school starts on Monday for her. I think if I sat down and gave her the choice of hanging out with her brother or playing soccer, Bubba would win, hands down, every time, anyway.
She was excited when we talked on Sunday, about going to the park yesterday with her dad. Last night when we talked, I found out that they spent a whopping 15 minutes at the park. Well...it's a good thing she wasn't allowed to go to the Children's Museum with my mom, then. She would have really missed out on some quality park time with her dad. He has not responded to any phone calls or emails. So...I guess when he told Scooter that she won't be going to summer camp with my mom, no amount of negotiation will sway him. Argh. Scooter looks forward to that camp every year. It's a great, wholesome, opportunity for her to hang out with her 9 cousins for a week. You should see them at that church camp. They're like a little gang. Unstoppable - except by the ex. So...she may miss this year as we wrangle with the courts to see if it's possible to make him abide by a court order. It seems like it's not possible, as he's gotten his way every time thus far. I guess time will tell.
Monday, May 2, 2011
a new perspective
I read an article today about how the Pearl Harbor memorial and museum recently unveiled a "Japanese perspective" on the run up to WWII. It got me thinking. I wonder if I should take on an "ex perspective" on the run up to Family War II (FWII). So here it goes, from the ex's point of view, speaking to his child:
1. I repeatedly cheated on your mother. Sure...we went to several months of marriage counselling, but it was just a bunch of people trying to tell me what to do. I'm an adult. I can make my own choices. So when your mom finally asked me to move out, I chose to wait until your second birthday to do so.
2. I never did like that "child support" thing. Why should I pay your mom anything? But I had to pay it, so I did. I might have been late a few times (or 46) over the (4) years, but whatever.
3. I often put my job ahead of you on my list of priorities. You have to understand, Scooter. I like my job. I also liked my new-found singledom. It was nice to skip a day with you now and again in order to hang out with my friends. It didn't hurt anyone (except you, maybe), and besides...you were ALWAYS there if I wanted to see you.
4. When given the option between seeing you and jerking your mom around, well...the temptation to jerk your mom around was just too great. That's why I never took any time off work to spend with you when your mom would go out of town.
5. When your mom brought up the idea of you and her moving out of state, I told her to go ahead and do it. I'd see you in the summers, afterall, and that way, I wouldn't have to drive across town all the time to get you. I mean, no offense, but it was a PAIN to drive all that way just to spend time with you.
6. I never told your mom that I changed my mind about the move. Have you ever seen her when she's angry, or when she thinks she's right about something? She always has all of these logical arguments, and I don't want to deal with that, anymore.
7. I hired a bad attorney. I came to trial unprepared. I lied. A lot. I'm just not good with communication or looking objectively at situations.
8. My unpreparedness turned around and bit me when I lost the court case. The judge adopted all of your mother's suggestions, which were provided to the court. I didn't provide anything, but MAN...I don't understand why I didn't get anything I wanted. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I don't want to be judged on my past actions. I want to be judged on my intentions! I don't understand why the judge did what he did!
9. I have allowed outside influences to cloud my judgement when it comes to your grandmother. I know she loves you. She and I used to have a good relationship, but the fact that she birthed your mother just makes me SO MAD. You can't see her anymore under my care because obviously, it would be logical and mature for me to nurture relationships between you and some of the people who love you. We all know I hate that stuff.
10. The worst thing in the world is that my child support obligation went up. I can't see it as a means for you to be cared for. I can only see it as a means to benefit your mom.
Hm...yeah. I guess when you look at it that way...WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!!! My mom was your one champion in all of this. My mom could see your perspective more often than I sometimes wanted to hear, and she's the very person that you are alienating right now. Well...her and your own daughter. The parenting plan that we put together was GENEROUS. Get over your nonsense and start acting like you actually care for your daughter.
1. I repeatedly cheated on your mother. Sure...we went to several months of marriage counselling, but it was just a bunch of people trying to tell me what to do. I'm an adult. I can make my own choices. So when your mom finally asked me to move out, I chose to wait until your second birthday to do so.
2. I never did like that "child support" thing. Why should I pay your mom anything? But I had to pay it, so I did. I might have been late a few times (or 46) over the (4) years, but whatever.
3. I often put my job ahead of you on my list of priorities. You have to understand, Scooter. I like my job. I also liked my new-found singledom. It was nice to skip a day with you now and again in order to hang out with my friends. It didn't hurt anyone (except you, maybe), and besides...you were ALWAYS there if I wanted to see you.
4. When given the option between seeing you and jerking your mom around, well...the temptation to jerk your mom around was just too great. That's why I never took any time off work to spend with you when your mom would go out of town.
5. When your mom brought up the idea of you and her moving out of state, I told her to go ahead and do it. I'd see you in the summers, afterall, and that way, I wouldn't have to drive across town all the time to get you. I mean, no offense, but it was a PAIN to drive all that way just to spend time with you.
6. I never told your mom that I changed my mind about the move. Have you ever seen her when she's angry, or when she thinks she's right about something? She always has all of these logical arguments, and I don't want to deal with that, anymore.
7. I hired a bad attorney. I came to trial unprepared. I lied. A lot. I'm just not good with communication or looking objectively at situations.
8. My unpreparedness turned around and bit me when I lost the court case. The judge adopted all of your mother's suggestions, which were provided to the court. I didn't provide anything, but MAN...I don't understand why I didn't get anything I wanted. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I don't want to be judged on my past actions. I want to be judged on my intentions! I don't understand why the judge did what he did!
9. I have allowed outside influences to cloud my judgement when it comes to your grandmother. I know she loves you. She and I used to have a good relationship, but the fact that she birthed your mother just makes me SO MAD. You can't see her anymore under my care because obviously, it would be logical and mature for me to nurture relationships between you and some of the people who love you. We all know I hate that stuff.
10. The worst thing in the world is that my child support obligation went up. I can't see it as a means for you to be cared for. I can only see it as a means to benefit your mom.
Hm...yeah. I guess when you look at it that way...WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!!! My mom was your one champion in all of this. My mom could see your perspective more often than I sometimes wanted to hear, and she's the very person that you are alienating right now. Well...her and your own daughter. The parenting plan that we put together was GENEROUS. Get over your nonsense and start acting like you actually care for your daughter.
18 days and a wake up
Yeah, I was in the army. I spent 4 years as an officer after going to college on an ROTC scholarship. It was an interesting time in my life. I made one of the worst decisions of my life under the influence of the military: marrying the ex. Don't get me wrong. I don't regret it. I have just come to realize what a poor decision that was.
During that military phase of my life, people came and went - it's kind of the nature of the game. Especially in a place like Korea, where there's just a 1 year tour of duty. As people got closer to their "PCS" date, they'd get something akin to senioritus and start counting down the days. If today is Monday, and they left on Friday, they'd call it "3 days and a wake-up." It made it seem shorter than it was, but it was also fairly accurate. Monday didn't count because it's already happening, and Friday didn't count because that was THE DAY. So...T-Th and a wake up it was.
Using that same logic, I've got 18 days and a wake up until Scooter comes home. With Ben back (last night) and Bubba still here (and happy to see his dad), I guess we're ready to fall back into that strange routine we've become accustomed to. Taking everything day by day and punctuating each evening with that "will she or won't she answer the phone" anxiety. It's been so nerve-wracking around the house lately that Bubba has taken to asking, "Mommy OK? Daddy OK? Scooter* OK? Bubba* OK?"
Yes, love, everybody is OK.
*You know I don't use my kids' real names, but he does. So I changed them.
During that military phase of my life, people came and went - it's kind of the nature of the game. Especially in a place like Korea, where there's just a 1 year tour of duty. As people got closer to their "PCS" date, they'd get something akin to senioritus and start counting down the days. If today is Monday, and they left on Friday, they'd call it "3 days and a wake-up." It made it seem shorter than it was, but it was also fairly accurate. Monday didn't count because it's already happening, and Friday didn't count because that was THE DAY. So...T-Th and a wake up it was.
Using that same logic, I've got 18 days and a wake up until Scooter comes home. With Ben back (last night) and Bubba still here (and happy to see his dad), I guess we're ready to fall back into that strange routine we've become accustomed to. Taking everything day by day and punctuating each evening with that "will she or won't she answer the phone" anxiety. It's been so nerve-wracking around the house lately that Bubba has taken to asking, "Mommy OK? Daddy OK? Scooter* OK? Bubba* OK?"
Yes, love, everybody is OK.
*You know I don't use my kids' real names, but he does. So I changed them.
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