Time to catch up 2017

This year I decided to give up Facebook for lent.  Forty days of no Facebook.  I may have lurked on occasion and  maybe ‘liked’ a post or two and now am told I have failed Lent. This is by people who aren’t even Catholic.  I guess I should have reworded that maybe I would spend more time off of Facebook to focus more on real living, because that is exactly what I have done.  In the time I have spent off FB I have gardened (more on my anaphylactic  shock in a minute) I’ve read a book (or 2), and I have spent hours at the baseball field.  I’ve even watched  Netflix series that I may not have had time for if I time sucked my life in FB like I usually do. (Rectify, is the Netflix series called the best most un- watched show and has a finale that rallies Six Feet Under; seriously). I have most certainly plugged back into my life.  I don’t consider that a fail.

Unfortunately Facebook is my connection to people that I don’t see every day.  And there is the Vacaville Crime thread.  I have to know what is going on in my community.  I can’t completely unplug from that.  I would like to be on snap chat.  That looks like a lot of fun but I have no idea how to do it.  Regardless, I can concentrate more on my family.  You see, last year I turned 50.  And I got a little selfish.  I concentrated on my own happiness; perhaps at the expense of my family.  But this year I vowed to concentrate more on my family. And you know what?  I found out I don’t like them much.  They do not pick up after themselves, and they honestly smell bad.  And they are selfish little bastards and seriously babies, when they are sick.   And there are many days they exhaust me.

The gardening thingy that happened was interesting.  I ended up digging up a “Royal Robe Potato Plant” that I have had for at least 10 years.  (It doesn’t actually grow potatoes).  I ended up with hives the next day and the following day it spread to my face. And my lips.  It looked like a Botox moment gone horribly bad.  I ended up in the ER with a vein full of Benadryl and solumedrol  plus a week of oral steroids.  Steroids do make a person feel FABOMUNGO!   I felt like wonder woman;  needing very little sleep and still feeling, well,  powerful.   I kinda get the whole Lance Armstrong thing even though I hate the man for being a Svengali. That was my gardening moment.  My allergist said to dig it up (not me) and never plant something like that in my yard again.  But if I do, I have 2 epi pens.

In addition to movies I watched some very good documentaries.   Beary Tales is where two orphaned bear cubs adopt a man to raise them, and admittedly was a bit silly, But Be Here Now was so good I highly recommend it especially if you like to cry.  He dies in the end by the way.  I didn’t know that when I first started watching it.  So you are welcome.

And then, in a bit of melancholy, I re read my old entries from this Blog.  How the time has flown.  It made me happy and sad both.  It is so poorly written it made me almost have an anxiety attack.  Then I realized the amount my children have grown and it nearly made me lose my breath.  And finally the realization that the years go by so quick, and in those years I got old. So old that I DID do Botox just last week.  Just a little.  My head is on the small side to it saved me quite a bit of money.  It makes me giggle that my forehead is so numb and I can not make a scowl if I tried.  My friend, also a Botox user, and I had dinner last night and tried to see who could scowl first.  Neither of us could, My face is now on a level playing field.  Poker face = Botox = win.  And for now, I have no wrinkles; except my laugh lines.  I do love the laugh lines.  I won’t touch those.  Those get to stay.   I don’t want them to go away, not even for a day. If I hadn’t laughed as much as I have over the last several years I would be dead.   Those laugh lines are my life lines. They are the strings that holds my heart together.  And they remind me that I am really really happy for the most part.

But right now I feel unsettled and I honestly miss people.  Tons of people.  I don’t usually feel this way.  People have come and gone so much in my life, either through death or travel or changing jobs, and I’m usually like “God speed!” I have had the time to think about those people over these 40 days and I can say that I do miss a very many of them. We move on, and sadly we let go, because sometimes we are forced.  We let go even if it was on someone else’s terms. And that sucks. It really does.

Now I’m going to do something else that I never had time for before.  I’m going to take a nap.

This year, 2017, I do intend to continue my blog.  Stay tuned.

 

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I’m so happy I nearly pissed myself.

I’m so happy I nearly pissed myself. My 14 year old son just left for the park with two 13 year old girls on skateboards. Well played girls. That’s really the only way you will get my 14 year old’s attention. He’s now apparently in to girls from what I hear from a dear friend with a daughter. The only way I know this is not from him, but from reading his texts and his Instagram. This was our deal when he got his IPhone. I am told I am not allowed to bring it up, because I will shut him out. In past conversations, however, I have told him if I found out he was having sex before he is 18 I will cut his “precious” off. But in a last minute stressful cry for help I asked him if he needed a box of condoms. We were in the car, driving home from Texas Roadhouse, and my husband stayed very stoic while driving; my son grinning; asking me if I’d finally lost my mind. I never would have said it, except my hairdresser told me yesterday that she started offering condoms to her 14 year old routinely and they never had an unplanned pregnancy. It’s a strange time here in the Miller household. I laugh because I am teaching CCD to second graders this year, and tomorrow my babies will be celebrating the Sacrament of Communion. I am so proud and yet so surprised that people actually trust me to teach their children about Jesus!! I surprisingly received a very nice email from a mother who told me that her daughter really “liked” CCD this year and looked forward to our class; and that last year her daughter actually laid across the driveway kicking and screaming that she didn’t want to go to CCD. She thanked me profusely. Her daughter is a proud protégée’. She was very shy at first; telling us she would never do her sacrament of reconciliation, and doubted very much she wanted to do communion. However through out studies and conversations she has done Penance without incident and is ready for communion tomorrow. Thank GOD for jello shots and marijuana. GOD loves all of our children.

My husband and I have become a haven to drop your kids off at our house if you have something compelling to do that needs to be without children. We have a very child friendly house so we don’t mind at all. People call us asking if they can not only drop their child friend of our child off but the siblings as well. Then in return ask if they can watch our kids while we go to the movie, or something? Hahahah. We pay more in Comcast then most of you pay in a mortgage!! WE don’t go to movies. We sit on our asses, eating what ever we want, drinking whatever we want, at 3 different TV’s, watching whatever we choose to watch. But of course, we thank you all for the offers. I still chuckle. LOL.

Finally I will leave you with all of this. My 8 year old is not immune to colorful language in our household. However, I would know if any colorful language came from our house. Today he said something that came from some other colorful household, and I would love to know where. I bought him the new Diary of a Wimpy kid book and asked him if he was happy. He replied, and I quote, “I’m so happy I could just piss myself.”
God love the Miller household, and please pray for us.

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The last 3 decades…

My nephew left for college up in WA state and is already having the time of his life. He posted the funniest FB post that he was “riding a skateboard in the rain to Target”. Yep, college life is really like that. I used to walk through snow storms to get to Blimpies for food and 7/11 to buy cigarettes. I had forgotten a LOT of the nitty gritty details of my younger years but as luck would have it I found my diaries from 5th grade through age 26. There were not always “daily’ posts, thank God. I would sometimes go stretches, ie years, before putting in an entry to “catch up.” Totally hilarious stuff. At times it read like a bad trashy romance novel. Bad choices in boyfriends; drama, breakups, heartache; friendship’s strained, depression. There was that time I decided to go out on a date with someone other than my current boyfriend only to have them both show up in my dorm room at the same time, greeting each other as old friends. UGH! More times than not I would denounce the attention of what I would call “good guys” to hang in there with boys who shouldn’t have even been worth my time. Always trying to work in studying with the more important social events; the sorority house, the fun (putting a “weight limit 1 ton” sign in the Pi Phi’s yard). THANKFULLY it all worked out fine. I do wish I had known back then that it all was going to work out ok. I would hope I might have had more “fun” with less worry, less depression, less drama. Reading the plight of my last 3 decades was humorous but also unsettling at times.

My 7 year old is into Minecraft. I don’t even entirely “get it.” He comes up to me today and says, “I think I must be a nerd.” (appears his older brother told him this). I said, “good, that means you will become a millionaire one day”. Lucas says “but Chris isn’t a nerd.” I said “and I seriously doubt that Chris will ever become a millionaire.” It’s like in 21 Jump Streets when Channing Tatum goes back to High School only to find out it’s the nerds that are the cool people now, not the athletes. Is it delightful Karma that many geeky kids grow up to be famous and wealthy and the athletes grow up to be fat and bald? At the time, high school seemed so definite in how our lives would unfold. Thirty years later it appears that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Thankfully, for some of us. I am thankful that I am at a time in my life where it is much more predictable. I love my career; doing the work that I dearly love to do; making the real point of college a success. There is little drama anymore. I don’t really want a soap opera life. I think this may be MY definition of finally growing up. It has been an interesting journey. My kids are just beginning.

And for those of you who wonder: These “diaries” will not be around for anyone else to ‘enjoy’. It was fun journey walking down memory road. But that evidence will inevitably need to be destroyed 🙂

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Here

Yesterday my 12 yr old had a somewhat serious bike accident.  We rushed him to the hospital and he had a large “gash” in his lower stomach that took 8 topical stitches and a number of inside stitches.  It was painful even with good drugs which included LOTS of morphine for him and sadly nothing for me.  But he was SO brave.  This is not the first time my oldest has had a serious situation where he ended up in the hospital.  What is different however is that this it is the first time he had a mother who never left his side throughout the whole ordeal.

When my now 12-year-old was 2 months old and in the orphanage he became very ill.  He was transferred to the Russian hospital and was diagnosed with “double-sided pneumonia.” He remained in isolation for several days.  He had to have 2 chest tubes inserted in his side that have left little “Y” scars that I used to run my fingers over when I would rock him in a diaper when he was baby.   I was told that due to the seriousness of the illness the medical staff was afraid he would not be adoptable.  But just like yesterday he recovered like a TROOPER.  He never lost his spirit and remained a brave little soul.  In his recovery they decided he WAS still adoptable!!!  But because of this illness he was turned down by a Russian couple to adopt him in leu of a “healthier” infant.  That is how this beautiful and wonderful child was able to be offered to us to adopt.   When we reviewed the medical information on him I saw that he had been terribly ill as a baby.  After I met him the first time I saw the two “Y” scars where the chest tubes had been.   Of course I felt horrible that I had not been there with him when this happened.  And what was worse, no one had been:(   There was no mother to worry about him.  There was no mother to hold his head and reassure him that everything would be ok, even if she wasn’t sure herself. There was no mother to pray for him.  It breaks my heart to even think about this, but I often do.

Yesterday when my 12-year-old came into the house and I heard his cry I knew instantly that something was wrong.  I know the sounds of my children and when it is serious and when to take notice. I can feel in my bones when one of them is truly hurting.  I jumped, commanded, comforted, advocated, and got him into that ER STAT leading the trauma team behind me. I never left his side.  I reassured him about the stitches and also gave him the truth and the tools to get through it.  I told him about my bicycle accident at age 10 that ended with a full mouth full of stitches and further plastic surgery.  We rode this wave of uncertainty together and I told him over and over  how much I loved him and how brave he was.  I hope, in my little heart of hopes, that somehow this experience healed that early infant memory that he may not even know about.  That is, that early memory of not being loved.  And that early memory of being alone, when he should have had a mother sitting, praying, loving, and reassuring, right by his side.

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looking that roast in the eye

If you know me, you know I am somewhat superstitious.  Ok very superstitious.  There were some years that I’ve actually stayed in bed all day on Friday the 13s; and I will most definitely require therapy if a black cat runs out in front of my car (unless I’m able to run it over).  What you may not know, and I am happy to inform you today is that one of the most voodoo of bad luck items on the universe is the beef roast.  They are such bad luck that it has been over 15 years since I have cooked one.  Why do I know they are bad luck?  Because every damn time I would cook one someone in my family would die, get hurt, get divorced, be diagnosed with cancer, or I would get dumped.  (I think there was a time I actually threw the roast at Dave out in the front yard because of a fight we had).  Something bad or traumatic happened every time.   It became a very obvious that the source of all this evil was in fact the beef roast.

Well today is the day.  Today is “mind over roast” day.  What on earth possessed me to buying a  slab of meat called a r**** at the supermarket you might ask?  Yeah me too.  When you figure it out let me know.  It was actually a bit of an accident.  As I strolled through the grocery store I saw this put together, nicely packaged item that had a slab of meat/potatoes, carrots, onion with the words “slow cooker” on the package and I thought to myself, “wow, this is a perfect quick meal for the family.”  I was horrified when I got it home and went to put it in the refrigerator and the words R O A S T was on the package.  I wanted to throw it out.  I almost did.  But it wasn’t cheap.  And we are on a food budget  so I didn’t. So today is the day.

Am I nervous.  Yes.  Terrified.  But as I type this the r**** is slow cooking in a sea of sides.  I hope a tree doesn’t fall on me today.  But I gotta admit.  It smells pretty damn good.

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This aint my first rodeo

I’ve been off facebook for like 2 months and it feels oh so good.  I was able to disconnect from the election; as well as look for a job.  I am happy to say that as of Dec 1 I will be gainfully employed once again.  I am very happy.  I left a job and had a month off and guess what? My blood pressure is almost normal.  Yep. There it is.  I have also been able to cook for my family every night and have been “present” every night for homework and book reading.  I have been living “second to second” and have enjoyed every fleeting moment.  Suze Orman is still not happy with me and I will say that I have never had to go on more than like 2 interviews to get a job until now.  That was somewhat humbling.  Thankfully in today’s age there are a lot of people who need a lot of support and resources as well as serious mental health.  I may not have picked a job that will make me millions, but I’m pretty sure as a seasoned  social worker I have a little bit of job security.

So in other news:

*I am done with my Christmas shopping and will not leave my house on black Friday.

*My family’s investment counselor died in his sleep Halloween night.  He was 77.  He worked up until the day he died. Well done sir.  But I will miss you.

*I took my oldest to the ER a couple of weeks ago because of a bad stomach ache and was amused and amazed at the amount of medical people who had no idea what a “hot water bottle” was.  Who raised you people?

*Today is a perfect cool fall day.  My favorite time of year:)

 

 

 

 

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Such good stuff, I had to share.

Paul Harvey Writes:

We tried so hard to make things better for our kids
that we made them worse. For my grandchildren,
I’d like better.

I’d really like for them
to know about hand me down clothes and
homemade
ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I
really would.

I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and
that you learn
honesty by being cheated.
I hope you learn to make your
own bed and
mow the lawn and wash the car.
And I really hope nobody gives you a

brand new car when you are sixteen.

It will be good if at least one
time you can see
puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.

I hope
you get a black eye fighting for something
you believe in.

I hope
you have to share a bedroom with your
younger brother/sister. And it’s all
right if
you have to draw a line down the middle of the
room, but when
he wants to crawl under the covers
with you because he’s scared, I hope you
let him.

When you want to see a movie and your little
brother/sister
wants to tag along, I hope you’ll
let him/her.

I hope you have to
walk
uphill to school with your friends and that you
live in a town
where you can do it safely.

On rainy days when you have to catch a ride,
I hope
you don’t ask your driver to drop you two blocks
away so you
won’t be seen riding with someone as
uncool as your Mom.

If you want
a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches
you how to make one instead of buying
one.

I hope you learn to dig in the dirt
and read books. When

you learn to use computers, I hope you also
learn to add and subtract in
your
head.

I hope you get teased by your friends when you
have
your first crush on a boy\girl, and when
you talk back to your mother that
you learn what
ivory soap tastes like.

May you skin your knee
climbing a mountain, burn
your hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a

frozen flagpole.

I don’t care if you try a beer once, but I hope

you don’t like it.. And if a friend offers you
dope or a joint, I hope
you realize he is not
your friend.

I sure hope you make time to sit
on a porch with
your Grandma/Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle.

May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the
holidays.

I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a
baseball through
your neighbor’s window and that
she hugs you and kisses you at

Hannukah/Christmas time when you give her a
plaster mold of your hand.

These things I wish for you – tough times and
disappointment, hard
work and happiness. To me,
it’s the only way to appreciate life.

Written with a pen. Sealed with a kiss. I’m here for
you. And if I
die before you do, I’ll go to
heaven and wait for you.

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I Love…

It’s a beautiful October day here in Vacaville CA and although everything hasn’t completely fallen into place like I had hoped, I am not down. I can no more feel sorry for myself then list all the things that I love on this day that  make me very very happy.  So here I go.

1. I love helping my 6-year-old build and paint his diorama of his ‘tiger’.

2.  I love watching my 12-year-old hip hop.  He has grown into a strong young man and watching him is incredibly proud for me.

3. I loved carving our family pumpking together this season.

4. I love hearing the washer start to clean our clothes; dirty smelling clothes that come from wonderful energetic memories.

5.  I love buying my kids chocolate donuts before school and watching them walk int school with chocolate still smeared around their faces.

6.  I love that when I went for my sleep study last night that my 6-year-old left me a get well/welcome home card when I returned.

7. I love our house.  A house that we bought 11 years ago that needed work. And now there are ony a few big projects that remain; but the bones of the house we loved originally are still here and it is as warm and welcoming as the first day we arrived.

8.  I love that I never lose faith in God.

9.  I love that our family, not withstanding usual family issues, remains strong and committed.

10.  I love that when everyone is gone except for me, I still am kept company by our many pets.

 

This is a season of change….of death…and rebirth.  I have such great hope for the future.  And I remain blessed.

 

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People who inspire me and changes up ahead…

Today for my blogging I am going to share with you people who continue to inspire me on a daily basis.  I do this because I myself needs a dash of inspiration as I look for a new job.  Yep, moving on and not wanting to deal, so right we will talk inspiration and  only INSPIRATION.  Today I went to INSHAPE to my hot hula class. I must say between that class, my belly dancing class and my yoga classes that my legs are about as tone as they’ve ever been.   There was a woman there who was in awesome shape who was probably in her late 40s and was visibly hearing impaired.  My teacher, Renee for no reason was able to communicate with her thru sign.  It was the most amazing sight.  The woman, Gina and I were polite to one another through out the class and after I asked her if she could actually “hear” the music as opposed to the beat and she said she could hear a little bit with her hearing aids.  She liked the class because Renee would “sign” as well as do hand signals which she could easily follow.  After the class she asked if I was coming back next Thursday and I said ‘for sure” and she smiled.  I had made a very nice connection.  Thank you Renee for knowing sign language for no real reason and thank you Gina for being brave enough to take a dance class even though you are deaf.

Today was also  the funeral of my cousin, age 63 who has had MS for 20 years.   She, who had lost all muscle control for well over 10 years, was really not wanting to die.  “FIGHT” she told her family as her kidneys failed, and as her hospice nurses asked whether she needed pain meds (of course she said “no”).  I do remember her before her wheel chair days.  But as a person who refused to have her spirit be broken by her failing body, she leaves a legacy of inspired individuals including myself.

I’ve had many of my patients inspire me over the years.   I had  one patient who was a paraplegic; lived in her own house; had a caregiver totally committed to doing her home hemodialysis so the patient could continue teaching art and having art shows.  She finally decided she was “done” and signed a DNR knowing while she was in the hospital that during dialysis she would get low blood pressure and they would let her go.  She went on her own terms.  She had one of the highest quality of life surveys I had ever seen, but yet, she decided when it was time to transition.  I know she died a happy and content woman and I will never forget her.

When you take time to stop and notice life, you are able to meet people and become acquainted with situations that just might inspire you. I try to make it a point to become inspired every day.

I have a million varied thoughts right now and know I probably should be freaking out leaving a job before I have another lined up.  But I’m not.   I think that is why I have felt like I was banging my head against the wall so much in the last few months; I was being told by the universe that it is time for a change.  I leave my current position not defeated but inspired I move forward to finding something new that I am being lead to.  I have several “passions” that I am looking to follow, and I hope the Universe has this already in its plan.  Go forward and trust.  Trust whatever you believe in; God, the universe, common sense; whatever.  My goal for today and tomorrow is this.   I shall attempt to trust all three.

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