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Archive for April, 2012

Lunch would take place in a Jersey diner.  Where else could it, considering the circumstances.  Or maybe PJ’s pancake house in Princeton.  I guess it would depend on the time of day.  (There could one day be an entire post on the season 7 photos, including the blending of House and Pennywise.)

I love the show House, M.D. (we’ll use the full title at least once).  I enjoy procedurals and this one offered a nice little twist that I found irresistible.  The main character is an ass.  I actually sometimes wish doctors were more like House-cut to the chase and remind me that you are the one with the advanced degree while I am the biased patient who clicked too many links on google.  Tonight’s episode returned to truisms from the first season-everybody lies and the relationship (bromance) between House and Wilson is the key to the success of this show.

The past couple of seasons became too focused on the people and less on the interaction of these people within the work environment, which is why I liked the show in the first place.  I got tired of the House and Cuddy storyline.  Still don’t know exactly what happened between Chase and Cameron, and more to the point, I don’t care what happened to Chase and Cameron.  I think the show should end this year (as sad as I will be, just like I was when Monk went off the air), but they had done it all.  Plus, what I had hoped would happen with the end in sight did happen.  They got their mojo back.  House is back to being an ass and Wilson somehow sticks by him, though they have allowed Wilson to show the strain it’s been on him.

Tonight Wilson said some harsh truths.  House took it, handled it in his own way, true to form.  The pictures on Wilson’s computer at the end actually caused me to laugh out loud, dare I type it…LOL.  It was one of the better episodes I’ve seen in a long time because I cared about the characters, including the medical mystery of the week, and they made me feel something.  I do feel that may have also been partly due to Hugh Laurie directing it.  You cannot discount the care and affection the director has for the characters improving the heart and soul of an episode.

The House and Cuddy storyline simply made me feel annoyed.  The show had gotten bogged down with junk and messes to be cleaned up.  Tonight there were plenty of messes, but of the medical kind.  I can’t understand why shows feel the need to change things up when it works they way it was originally conceived.  This year House seems to have returned to its roots.  This is good and has even caused me to care that there are only THREE EPISODES LEFT.

Is it cliche that Wilson has cancer?  Yep.  But the way he and House are dealing with it is not cliche.  It’s reckless and stupid, just like them.  The emotional sap in me loved finding out that all of the knick-knacks in Wilson’s office were from patients.  It offered a nice snapshot of the emotional depth and connections living within Wilson.

There was some kind of contest to send in a picture that you felt demonstrated the key to House (or something like that) and the winner’s picture would be incorporated into the finale.  I did not submit an entry, mostly because I don’t know how to photoshop a single thing.  But I do know what I would have done.  Take a picture of House.  On his shoulders are Chase, the classic little red devil with horns and a pitchfork, and Foreman on the other as the classic angel, halo and all.  Cameron would be where we place the soul (in our attempts to understand this amazing concept) sort of near the heart.  Cuddy would be over his heart.  And Wilson, in full Jiminy Cricket wardrobe, would simply be standing next to him.  Offering advice, but much like Pinocchio, that advice is too often ignored and House looks like a jackass.

Truly part of me wonders if in the last 15 minutes of the last episode if House will simply wake up from a really fun night of partying with too much vicodin and too many drinks.  He’ll get up and go to work for the first real time in the series.  The whole eight years having been a hallucination, pulling a new variation on Dallas.  Or perhaps House and Wilson will pull a Thelma and Louise.  Don’t know…but I hope it’s good.  I hope it’s very House.  But I hope it isn’t lame.

Yeah, you’ll smile when you catch that one.

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We started our day at 7:30 getting ready for picture day for Little League.  So much for youngest son’s new-found independence.  We were supposed to arrive at 8:15 but we got there around 8:35 because someone wasn’t sure he wanted to go.  He made it just in time for the team photo, but he was, I am sad to say, the player who wouldn’t take off his coat for the team photo.  Somehow the photographers got him to take it off for his individual picture.  More power to them.

Then home for a half an hour and then back to the fields for a 10 o’ clock game for youngest son.  He had some great hits and plays (in the pitcher’s position).

                                                               

Them I walked oldest son over for his pictures at 11:15 (while younger son was playing his game).  Game ended, stood in line at the snack stand and got lunch, then off to the other fields for oldest son’s game at 1 o’ clock.  Oldest son got to bat first and got a hit on the second or third pitch.  He then got out at second.  He also got to play catcher.  This was interesting since he has never played that position before nor had any coaching on it.

                                                                                

He did great!  There was only one little problem.  He thought the catcher was also the umpire.  I explained to him the difference and during the next inning, he was catcher again.  It’s a good position for him.  And he’s not bad at it.

Then the game ended at 2:45 and we headed off to Wawa for a wee snack to nibble on the way to swim lessons.

They both changed in the locker room quickly, came out to the pool, and got right in to the water.  The teacher is wonderful with them.  And I am VERY PROUD to write that oldest son can swim!  He got it today, it all clicked for him.  Now it’s not the most graceful swimming, but that will come in time.  Youngest son is so close I can taste it like he could taste the chlorine.  They have two more lessons and I’m sure it will happen for youngest son too.  Their teacher was impressed with how well they did today since they had gone two weeks without a lesson.  Next weekend they will have a lesson on Saturday and Sunday.  We’re hopeful with the lessons being back-to-back it will all come together for youngest son.  Oldest son can go to camp this summer with no worries about the swim test!  I may try going to the pool on my lunch break a few times to see if I can apply the same tips and finally learn to swim too!

     Look at oldest son on the right swimming on his own!    

We then drove home and are now enjoying a Jim Carrey double-feature.  We watched Mr. Popper’s Penguins and are now watching The Mask.  Then bedtime and let me tell you, I can’t wait.  I’m exhausted.

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Youngest son enjoyed his day with Daddy.  They took G’Pop to the doctor’s office and had lunch at Friendly’s.  Then they went to the office that Daddy works at on Thursday afternoons.  He had a fun day and played with one of the patient’s boys.  Youngest son seemed to enjoy having Daddy to himself and having full control without oldest son around.

Meanwhile, at a campus not far away, oldest son had a wonderful day with Mommy.

He attended several “classes” including desktop publishing and radio/television but his favorite was the one taught by a paleontologist on how to dig up a dinosaur.  I’ve never seen oldest son so attentive.  He had his hands folded on the table, raised his hand, and didn’t complain when he didn’t get called on to answer.  He also got one question incorrect, but handled it in stride.

The professor was wonderful and oldest son was completely engaged.  As the professor unpacked his backpack, oldest son squirmed with excitement when the field guide was pulled out.  He took his own field guide out of his backpack.  I was very proud of him.  He was in his element and felt so accomplished to be able to answer all of the questions, yet he gave others a chance too.

There was a large fossil of a Coelophysis and the professor asked if anyone knew about the dinosaur.  Oldest son raised his hand and then shared that it was believed to be similar to a Velociraptor in size and behavior, it was bipedal, it was from the late Triassic, and it’s name means “hollow form”.  Several parents commented that he really knew his stuff and the professor was very gracious in allowing oldest son to share so much of his knowledge.

Oldest son wore his paleontologist outfit-khakis, shirt, vest.  It was the same outfit the professor was wearing.

I think that it was an awesome day for him, except for the discovery that most fossils are replicas.  He had a hard time  adjusting to the fossils being replicas, or not real.  But the professor explained how expensive actual fossils are to purchase.  Sue, the T-Rex, sold for $8,000,000.  I explained that we don’t have that kind of dough lying around.  I hope he finds a way to resolve this for himself.  I can’t do it for him.  I wish I could.

Oldest son seems to have taken a big step forward toward his goal of being a paleontologist.  Youngest son took a big step toward his independence without oldest son around to boss him.  Happy day!

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Oldest son is so excited for Take Your Child to Work Day.  He gets to attend “class” throughout the day, eat at the dining hall, and hang out on campus.  The best class will be the last one-how to dig up a dinosaur.  From what I understand, the class will be taught by one of the faculty who is a paleontologist.  This makes oldest son absolutely ecstatic.  He packed his dino backpack with supplies.  He wanted to bring about five books, but I chose his own personal Dino Field Guide and one of his favorite dinosaur reference books.  I will have to explain to him in the morning that the backpack would get heavy, fast.  And I’m not carrying it!  He has his official paleontologist outfit ready in his closet.  How cute is he?

Youngest son is also joining in on the day, but because my workplace has an age requirement, he’s going to work with Daddy.  Less exciting because Daddy works at home.  Two more years, kiddo, and you’ll be old enough.

I just hope my work does the “classes” thing again.

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The amount of grace I used today was unbelievable.  It was oozing out of me from all directions.  On the telephone explaining a department policy over and over for 21 minutes–yep, grace was a-flowing.  At the large corporate home improvement store with commercials narrated by Ed Harris and an orange logo, grace came flowing out when the manager didn’t want to hear me as I told her the employee found me as I headed to the parking lot to tell me he had found the perennials I was asking about and I was in fact making a purchase.

Still, that’ll be the last time I go there for a while.  When I was in retail (picture me sitting on the porch in a rocking chair as I say that), I would have not said to the customer that the employee who kept working to solve the problem created the problem by not knowing his department.  Well, he reached out to her and didn’t get much managerial support.  When I went to her to ask if she knew about the sale, she quickly flipped through the circular and said it must not start till tomorrow.  Feeling a bit like the butler in Clue (the others say to him “you did it!” to which he replies “If I was the murderer, why would I tell you how I did it?”), I dared to ask her why the company would run a commercial on Monday night for a sale that wasn’t going to start till Wednesday?  She answered, “I don’t know, but we don’t have that sale now.”  That’s when I left and the employee shouted across the parking lot to let me know he had found the perennials.  So in the end, I got my on-sale perennials, as well as some mulch for my shade garden in the back yard, and a great lesson about yester-year.

On the way home I told my sons about how I would have handled this type of situation when I was a manager in retail.  There was shock, awe, and a bit of amazement from the back of the rocket-sled as they discovered I had worked in retail.  They asked me what store and I told them how I had worked in different video stores over the years, but I was a manager for a company called Planet Video which then changed the name to Moovies which is now defunct, as most video chains are.  I told them how it was a small store that then grew to be a small chain until it was bought out by a larger corporation.  I told them about all the small stores I shopped at as a kid.  I decided that I’m not going to wait for Small Business Saturday.  The next time I need garden supplies, I’ll go to a local nursery.  When I finally pick the new paint color for the hallway, I’ll go to a paint store (if I can find one…I must admit I haven’t seen one in years…a paint and wall-covering store).

And then I told my sons about Woolworth’s and what a wonderful store that was.  I loved going there when I was a kid.  They then asked if I went to Dunkin’ Donuts as a kids and I told them nope.  We went to the local bakery.  We didn’t go to a chain pizza place but went to the local pizzeria.  Local restaurants, local shoe stores, and on and on.  I miss those days when you went to a show store for shoes and a toy store for toys and you get the idea.  It is harder to do that today because the chains have gobbled the locals up, but I want my sons to have that experience, so I will shop as much as possible at the local stores.

Back to grace…I pulled even more grace out as younger son said he wasn’t riding in the car tomorrow but would walk to school.  As the minutes ticked further into the 9 o’clock hour, we cuddled on the couch and I tried to dig deeper into understanding his dislike for school.

Turns out he thinks I throw all of his work away.  He thinks I keep all of older son’s work.  I pulled from the pile that has yet to be added to his “school work bin” the recent batch that had been selected for posterity.  I explained that I don’t keep every worksheet because they each bring home three or four every day and we’d run out of room.  We walked down the hall and he counted the three pieces of schoolwork hanging on the walls that were created by him.  He acknowledged with a small smile that only one of his brother’s was hanging on the wall.  I told him the copper cat he made out of a paper plate in preschool still hangs in my office.

We agreed on a challenge.  He would finish all of his work at school, but his way.  He thinks coloring a ditto for Earth Day (don’t get me started on how much paper that project wasted to commemorate Earth Day) was stupid and boring.  I agree.  But I asked him if it would have been more fun if he had colored the animals in less traditional colors.  I asked why the squirrel had to brown…couldn’t he color it orange or rainbow or blue?  He quickly got into the swing of things and together we remembered when he enjoyed doing school work (preschool) and how he could make first-grade work more fun.  I told him he had to follow the directions and finish the work, but when possible, he could make it more “him”, a little bit funky, a little bit creepy (in an Addams Family kind of way…he sees things from a different perspective than other six-year-old kids).

A little bit of cuddling, a little bit of talking, and a little bit of grace helped younger son remember and embrace how smart he is.  And how much fun he could make school work, if he didn’t worry so much about coloring inside the lines and remembering the crayon box has a lot of colors.

Finally, grace reminds me to slow down and realize how much better I am feeling, physically speaking.  I don’t start to hurt until around 8pm.  The past few days have really hurt by that point-think I may be over-doing it during the day in my new lesser-pain filled body-but it’ll get there.  Still, after I post this, I will be hobbling in the most unattractive way to bed.

Department policy enforcement, commute traffic, unhappy managers at large corporate stores, over-tired younger son thinking his school work doesn’t matter, cat meowing to go out this late at night and driving me a little batty…for each instance there is grace.  Grace…always flowing, always never-ending.

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My mother-in-law was dead, to begin with.  There is to be no doubt about that or what follows will not be as phenomenal or paranormal.  I’ve written about my late great mother-in-law and her visits and little ways of helping.  I may have written about the times youngest son has visited with her in our kitchen.  He is unfazed by this and not scared by it.  He just tells me about Grandmom being in the kitchen and asking him how he is doing.

Well, time to add a new visit.  My father-in-law just got both his knees replaced and was in the hospital and then rehab for the past several weeks.  He came home today, which is a joyous event.  I’m very proud of him and the work he did in rehab to get home.  When we stopped by to see how he was doing, he told us that the kitchen television wasn’t working.  Now the only person who has been in the house for the past few weeks is my hubby and he knows not to touch a television set-up.  He even watched a bit of telly one night and it was working fine.  I offered to take a look at it because usually I can figure out the problem.

This problem was simple.  Every cable except for the power and exterior coaxial cable had been unplugged from the cable box.  But the cables were still plugged into the telly.  There was one cable plugged into the telly but not into anything else.  The audio and video cables had all been unplugged from the cable box and were buried and tangled as if they had been that way for years.  Then, the HDMI cable that was plugged into the cable box was not the same HDMI cable plugged into the telly.  Now, I don’t think my mother-in-law was the type to set up a telly and cable box and deal with the input and output cables, but I truly do think she had some fun randomly messing with the television set up in the kitchen.  Once the set up was fixed and the telly was getting the signal, I wondered if Mom had done it.

I went up stairs to just make sure no one else was in the house.  I knew no one else could be in the house-the alarm hadn’t been tripped, but still I had to check.  As I got to the top of the stairs, I walked into my mother-in-law’s spirit.  I smelled her.  I felt her energy.  I went into every room upstairs figuring they might still smell of her, but no.  Not even her walk-in closet.  That actually smelled stale.  But at the top of the stairs, when I stepped onto the landing, I walked through her.  Her scent was so clear.  I felt a force of energy outside of me.  It surrounded me and then passed through me.  It was wonderful and creepy.  A good creepy, but still creepy.  Hairs on the back of my neck and on my arms stood up.  The air was colder.  Then as I went down the little stairs off the landing, the air was warm and stuffy and stale again.

I’m curious now to see if she visits us here tonight.  If the office door opens and closes at midnight, I’ll know who it is.

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Oldest son had his first baseball game of the season tonight.  Such a feeling of Americana came over me.  Children were running around the ball fields screaming and having fun.  Parents were walking dogs, cheering on their kids, and taking lots of pictures.  Older teens were skipping rocks in the stream that runs along the back of the park.  Oldest son’s team lost (13-11) but he asked if we could celebrate his first game.  To an eight year old, this means a trip to McDonald’s.

After dinner the boys went straight to bed.  I hopped on the old internet and read some more about the late great Dick Clark.  He was and is a part of Americana.  One piece I read mentioned Peggy Sue Got Married and the comment about him never looking older or never aging (I forget the exact quote).  I always think of the lines from When Harry Met Sally.  Harry is alone on New Year’s Eve and he’s watching the ball drop.  In his voice-over he says something like this being good, “…You’ve got Dick Clark, that’s tradition.”

My memories of Dick Clark are not specific events (except for the line from Harry) but rather a series of vague memories.  The main thing I remember is that my mom and I bonded and connected early on because of Dick Clark.  We’d watch American Bandstand and my mom would tell me about the music she liked and what she listened to growing up.  Music was always something we talked about and I still connect to music from the 70s really easily.  Plus my uncle was a DJ at a local radio station at the time.  He’d play “Wildfire” by Michael Martin Murphey for me during his shift.  Of course, I now know that due to the long length, he may have said it was for me, but he probably played it so he could run to the bathroom. “American Pie”, “Hotel California”, and “Bohemian Rhapsody” were all good bathroom songs for DJs.  But still the piano in “Wildfire” is haunting to me.  I love the music from the 70s-the singer/songwriters.  I am not a big fan of the popular/Top 40 music of today.  I sound so cliche saying that, but it’s true.  The songs today don’t seem to have discernible melodies unless it’s from a musical.  I’m sure it’s artistic and will be appreciated for the changes it brought to the music industry one day, but overall it sounds like noise to me.

But when I was a youngin’, Dick Clark helped introduce me to music and create a special life-long bond with my mom.  Americana grew richer through his work.  I’ve been floating in the 70s all day and the ballpark was filled with a 70s vibe tonight.  Children making up games to pass the time as a sibling played ball.  Cheers coming from different directions.  Lots of “good try” and “good job” and “baseball ready” filled the air.  Youngest son had a hot dog.  I do believe that’s a federal law.  Six-year-olds must eat a hot dog at the ball park.  Hot dogs at the ball park on a warm spring evening.  Boys and Americana.

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During the fifth course, I would be quite full but I would persevere, for Kenneth’s sake.  The conversation would weave its way to Hamlet.  Not that I could ever cover this subject in a lunch or even a life time.  I humbly study this work of theater and will never even scratch the surface.  But we would focus on a specific scene.  Act III scene iv.  This scene from Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet makes me weep even when I simply think about it.

Hamlet Act III scene iv

(I am hopeful that I have successfully embedded the scene courtesy of tediousoldfools’ upload.  I adore tediousoldfools and all the wonderful uploads that I enjoy during the rare lunch breaks that I take.  I pop on a little Shakespeare & Kenny and my day becomes brighter.  So thank you to tediousoldfools.)

But the scene is the point of tonight’s blog.  Last night I treated myself to watching the movie again.    Once the ghost appears, Hamlet completely reverts to a small boy trying to please his father.  The fact that he just killed someone completely disappears as he looks at this ghost.  I love the voice of the ghost…his whispers are horrifying and filled with love at the same time.  He says to Hamlet,

“But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
O, step between her and her fighting soul:
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:
Speak to her, Hamlet.”

And he immediately obeys.  This is a moment of tenderness and concern between Hamlet and Gertrude, one that for me seems to be sincere concern from her.  As he says “On him…on him” he simply becomes filled with sadness, respect, and longing for his father.  Kenneth’s face changes and the tears well up as he struggles to please his father all the while trying to grasp that his mother doesn’t see the ghost.  The levels of emotion that course through his being in these two minutes of film are outstanding.

The scene makes me feel the wonder of what it would be like to see someone that you loved one more time.  It makes me think about unresolved matters and the desire to set things right within a family.  I think that Hamlet stands the test of time because every family has betrayal within it.  Hopefully not as horrific of a betrayal as in Hamlet, but on some level everyone deals with betrayal and a destruction of trust.  And as in this story, not everyone gets a chance to resolve things before being separated by death.  In some cases, a person may choose to separate from a particular person because of a betrayal of trust and this perhaps helps to avoid it ending the same way Hamlet does.  Bloodshed seems to be never ending in this group.

But in this scene, you just see a boy missing his dad.  Wishing for more time.  Hoping to please him one more time.  To defend his honor.  To gaze on him, on him one more time.

In case you’d enjoy reading it, here is the text of the scene:

Shakespeare’s Hamlet Act III scene iv

HAMLET

A king of shreds and patches—(Enter Ghost.)

Save me, and hover o’er me with your wings,
You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Alas, he’s mad!

HAMLET

Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by
The important acting of your dread command? O, say!

GHOST

Do not forget: this visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
O, step between her and her fighting soul:
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:
Speak to her, Hamlet.

HAMLET

How is it with you, lady?

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Alas, how is’t with you,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?

HAMLET

On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!
His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;
Lest with this piteous action you convert
My stern effects: then what I have to do
Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

To whom do you speak this?

HAMLET

Do you see nothing there?

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.

HAMLET

Nor did you nothing hear?

QUEEN GERTRUDE

No, nothing but ourselves.

HAMLET

Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!
My father, in his habit as he lived!
Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! (Exit Ghost.)

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When we last left off, Gentle Reader, you were left in suspense as to whether or not I would return to work.  Okay, not that much suspense, obviously I went back to work (I mean, seriously, walk away from a job in this economy?).  Work was pleasant and fun and amazingly busy.  That’s what happens when you take off four days with only three more weeks before finals.  So the day flew by and Thursday evening was filled with oldest son’s little league practice.  After we got home, I experienced the most awkward couple of hours with my sons.  We didn’t quite know how to be with each other.  I think they were wondering what I would do and I didn’t want to overdo it in an attempt to compensate for the previous evening.  It was over and done with and at least one of the three of us had apologized for her behavior.

On Friday afternoon, my hubby brought the boys to work and the boys got to participate in game night with the tutors.  Oldest son made a board game and some of the tutors played it with him.  Youngest son played Doodle Dice with me and one of the tutors (who jumped in when I had to get stuff).  Then oldest son joined in on a game of Scrabble while three other tutors finished a challenging game of Tribond Kids (yes, I brought the kids edition.  Go get the adult edition and you’ll see how hard it is).  I enjoyed watching my sons hang out with my “other” children.  The awkwardness was still there with my sons, very faint now but still lingering.  They were truly well behaved there and everyone in the office was so very sweet to them.

We rode home and I didn’t talk much.  Didn’t have much to say.  Oldest son was sweet and tried to make small talk.  Youngest son was the strong silent type and simply stared out the window.  When we got home, we unloaded the rocket-sled and once we were inside, my sons asked to play Scrabble.

Well, I love Scrabble.  This was great to have someone to play with and we set up the board.  I had realized at work that my deluxe edition rotating Scrabble board is older than the tutors and yet here I was playing a game with my sons.  They are pretty good at it and came up with some surprising words.  Youngest son successfully and independently played the “x” by way of the word “fox”.  Quite proud.  Oldest son successfully and independently played zoo when faced with the challenging “z” tile.  They asked why some of the tiles have little chew marks on them and, as I had to the tutors, I told them of how Anakin, one of our dearly departed felines, loved to chew wood.  Eventually the game ended, and after I had tucked them into bed I realized the awkwardness had ended too.

We played games throughout the weekend, pulled weeds in two of the gardens, and stayed up late Saturday night watching Indiana Jones movies.  Today we enjoyed church, attempted to swim in Pop-pop’s really cold pool, visited Pop-pop, and had dinner at Friendly’s.  Showers and teeth brushing were followed by another game of Scrabble before they crawled into bed.  As they climbed into bed they complimented each other on their good sportsmanship.  I think that was reverse psychology intended for me since I had gotten grumpy when one of them played a word using the “e” I needed for a double-word score play of “zebra”.  The game ended with the “z” still amongst my unplayed tiles.

So now that my “staycation” is officially over, my house is no cleaner (somehow it’s messier), my to-do list is no shorter (somehow it’s longer), but my sons have fallen in love with Scrabble and I have fallen in love with them all over again.

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Oldest son got out of the bathtub, wrapped towels around himself with a little help, and went to his room to put on pajamas.  Youngest son said no.  He declared he wasn’t getting out of the tub even when I offered to help with his towels.  Five minutes passed and I offered again (my mistake).  His response was that he staying in the tub for the next two days.  Stupidly I offered a third time (again my mistake).  It was a sincere conversation on my end to understand what made him want to stay in the tub.  I told him this was it and he said no.  I opened the door and started walking out of the bathroom when he said yes (his mistake).

The fury that unleashed from me was frightening.  This is the exact problem we have been working on and while it seemed he was learning, he tested me tonight and he won.  I kid myself everyday that I don’t feel guilty about working.  And tonight knowing I have to leave them again tomorrow morning to go spend the day with other people’s kids put the guilt into overdrive.  I will never stop feeling guilty about working out of the house.  I can rationalize it all the different ways that I do, but in the end I feel like I am not being the mother I should be.

According to the picture wall in my living room my sons are still three and five.  In reality they are six and eight.

I said to people just today how I don’t feel guilty about going back to work tomorrow.  I wrote recently that I don’t feel like I’ve missed things.

I am lying.  It breaks my heart.  And when each vacation ends, I feel sick.

I am thankful for all of our blessings.  I know to have a job right now is truly a blessing.  And I have a good job.  It doesn’t change the fact that I want to be home with my sons.  So I create this stupid drama.  I suppose in the juvenile part of my mind I think it will make it easier to separate myself from them.  And you know the stupidest thing of all is I don’t think they really care.  They’ve completely adapted to me not being home.  Yes, they say they miss me, they say they wish I were home, but I think they are fine when I’m not here.  It’s me.  When will I find a way to truly balance having to be a mom who works?

Do I stop taking vacations so I don’t have to relive how I felt on my first day at the job?

Do I play the lottery every day?

Do I go back to the patchwork-full-time-through-several-part-time jobs again?

Do I suck it up and cry on my way to work again tomorrow?

I look back at the choices in my life and I know that I couldn’t change any because then my sons might not be here.  The path I have walked is the path I was supposed to and three of the best parts of this path are my hubby and two sons.  I wouldn’t change anything because it might change them.

I need to keep my temper in check.  I need to draw patience and grace always.  I need to accept that I am a mom who works even though she would love to be home when her sons get home from school and on their days off and have as much time is needed to focus on them.

I have to suck it up and cry on my way to work again tomorrow.  And keep hoping to win the lottery.  But not in a monkey’s paw kind of way.

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