Personal

I am either on the 4th or 5th straight day of a migraine meltdown. I have more pills in my system then a junkie. None of which are giving much relief for very long. I’m thankful I don’t have brain tumors or cancer, but that doesn’t stop the pain. The pain is driving me to irritable depression and is making me angry. I finally broke down and did the one thing doctors hate most. I called the answering service and put in a request for a phone call back, on a Saturday. As I had a neck procedure done on Thursday, which amounts to about 8 needle stabs to the back of my neck, I had this pain on top of the migraine.

A somewhat irritated doctor told me to take more pills. Which it did cut some of the blinding pounding pain. Unfortunately it lowered my resistance to combat the negative irritable comments that seem to fly out of my mouth (or keyboard) I have found myself having to apologize every other hour to my husband who should be up for Sainthood by the time this migraine subsides. This man has more patience then any first grade teacher.

He has nursed me thru out the day today. Filling my hot water bottle with ice every hour, bringing me coffee, water, pop and running clear to AJ’s to pick me up a piece of their sinful carrot cake. He made me a delicious dinner of King Crab legs, rib eye steak, a loaf of French bread, broccoli, and drawn garlic butter and a cube of fresh butter for the bread! He even sat thru a chick flick that I thought was lame and corny. But still my easily irritated brain snapped at him more then a few times.

Yesterday I had a procedure to numb the nerve endings on the right side of my neck.  Migraine was there prior to the procedure, but by the time one eye opened up this morning, I had steel drums playing on my skull. God Bless schedule II painkillers! Next time it would behoove me to put masking tape over my mean mouth. Luckily the kids are with their father for the week-end.  My daughters sensitivity would not be able to handle her grouchy mom. Satan’s Spawn (Riley) probably wouldn’t notice, lol.

2005 will go down as one of the worst years I have had as far as physical pain and ailments are concerned. It is starting to get to me. Very discouraging on several different fronts. Tonight was date night with Kevin, and it was cancelled due to my pain. I hate it when that happens. He is very compassionate and giving, and sometimes I feel like he deserves better then a woman afflicted with chronic ailments and pain.

We are going to go away to Laughlin the 3rd week of September, just the two of us. These mini vacations go a long way in reconnecting as lovers and best friends. But that 3rd week of September seems way off in the distance right now. I know it will speed by far faster then I think though.

Besides the pain this past week, I was flattened by a few comments from someone I love dearly, and who I want to respect me. (Not the hubby, he really is up for sainthood) The comments had to do with my blog and my writing. I love this person dearly, which would explain why the criticism hurt so much. I hadn’t shared my web site with this person until very recently. I didn’t want to leave room for this person to critique me. I love writing, putting my feelings to words. It is cathartic mentally and emotionally. And challenges me to work harder at improving my writing. Not to pursue it in any professional capacity, just for my own sense of accomplishment.

I have always enjoyed creative writing clear back into the 4th grade, when I had a teacher who encouraged me and praised my efforts. In 5th grade I was awarded with a creative writing award in front of my whole school. This did more for my confidence and self esteem as a child, then anything else. I loved that teacher. She was warm, caring, encouraging, and made me feel like she genuinely liked me. Mrs. Stebbins was the best.

I have not journeled consistently in a long while. Finding blogging brought a new hobby to my life that very few things have in the last decade. I didn’t want it tainted by criticism by those I love. So to tell this person was a big step for me. This person praised a few of my efforts for a while, and then casually dropped a bomb shell on it this week. I don’t think it was said necessarily out of maliciousness or to shame me. But that was the results.

Honestly it broke my heart.When you love someone, and want them in your life, it makes you vulnerable. I can take the occasional heckler, or criticism from anonymous bloggers and laugh it off or roll my eyes. But it has been unbearable this last few days, dwelling on what was said, and then trying to second guess this persons motives. It put a damper on this hobby. I would look at my blog template and feel humiliated and hurt, when it used to fill me with a happy contentedness.

It is not easy trying to put a post together, making sure the sentence structure was the best I could do.(and yes it was a labor of love I enjoyed) Choosing what to write and trying to create the best story I could. I felt it was exercising my brain, and I would re read the post, what I put together and feel good about it. Maybe even some pride in my efforts. I kept my name anonymous in my blog, using the name Tamber instead of my real name Teri, because I didn’t want to risk criticism from people that I loved. My husbands name was changed to “Kevin”, more to keep him from any possible recognition at his work place.

Once I told this person about my blog, and a few slip ups from blogger friends, and my husband slipping up a few times, it seemed ridiculous to continue to use the pseudo name. My husband shall remain “Kevin” for the reason I listed. I didn’t take my husbands last name when we married, so being discovered by his work is slim to begin with.

I’ve been out reading blogs this morning, and of course I hit a group of my favorites, that I’m dubbing very uncreatively The Hawaii Bloggers. The Hawaii bloggers are having a get together in their tropical paradise this Saturday, and I am completely envious! (Happy they are all getting together, but wishin’ I was gonna be part of it!) A few of the Hawaii bloggers have posted about it in their latest posts, and it has me aching to be near the ocean!

If you would like to read some about their upcoming get together, and about life in general in Hawaii, here are the blogs to check out today! Bitchatude wrote a very revealing post about living in Hawaii. An inside look at life in paradise, not from a tourist stand point, but that of a resident of this very beautiful and unique state! I recommend reading her post, that is down one from her latest!

Next on the list is Tutu who writes about the get together coming up as well! Another added bonus, Tutu got a BEAUTIFUL new template design, with the ocean as landscape. And no amount of written description could do it justice, you need to see it. The design is one by the talented Tech Wench with West Designs. Wench also happens to be Tutus daughter. (This is a family full of talent and creativity!)

DB at Corporate Crap and other Dubious Wisdom writes encouraging a couple of newly engaged bloggers to take their honeymoon in Hawaii. Going as far as listing some good deals to get there! Making me wish even more I could be on a plane headed for the tropics!
The list of other bloggers that get to partake in the Blogger get together are possibly Kaos and his family. (One of Tutu’s sons)Wired another of Tutu’s daughters. And three of our Jr. Bloggers, Kamalani Tutu’s grand daughter, Dakota at Dragon Rage who is Bitchatude’s son and DB’s step son. Also attending is Missy A local girl and one more Hawaii blogger, who will be moving back to the mainland soon is Becky at April Fool

And yes I’m jealous of each and everyone one of them! All this talk of Hawaii, has me craving to see the ocean! Which in a week or so, I will see, but not in the tropical paradise setting of Hawaii. Kevin and I are taking the rugrats to San Diego for the week, to do the whole Zoo/Wild Life park and Marine World experience, logging more then a few play hours on the beach with the kids as well! We are excited, as we haven’t been to most of the parks there, and haven’t seen the ocean in over a year! (No ocean near the Arizona desert!)

As I was dwelling on my love of the ocean, I remembered a poem I wrote in High School (freshman year) about the ocean. In my 100 things, I talk about writing shit loads of poems, all of which stunk! I’m sure this one was no exception, although when my High School decided to put together a book of poems to sell (as a fundraiser) they included this one in it. And since it’s my blog, I’m posting it! Putting it in the drop down of this post, making it easier for you to avoid it, if you so choose! (I’m soooo fooking polite!) So here goes....

I was reminded of a childhood memory, that I don’t have a clue as to why it is significant, it just is. This memory was jogged by a Burn that was done on Blogg’d http://blgd.blogspot.com/ The burn was on Pinkee’s Big Days http://pinkeebigday.blogspot.com/ a blog about a pink teddybear, who goes on various adventures to state parks, and such. With the ribbing that went back and forth thru Brad’s burn and the comment section, it filled me with a morbid sense of delight, thinking of ways to roast poor little Pinkee over a bon fire, with marshmallows toasting over his/her furry little pink corpse. Sorry Charles and Carrie. (Those are Pinkee’s mom and dad) As is customary on Blogg’d, it was all in good fun! And Charles and Carrie were real troopers, having their beloved Pinkee roasted like a celebrity! Although word has it, that Pinkee IS in protective custody, and hiding out, after the death threats placed against him/her. (We haven’t figured out Pinkee’s sex yet. Yes I know he/she is pink. My thoughts exactly!)

I was taken back in memory to my own childhood, and the role a couple of stuffed animals played in it. First, to a stuffed bear I had named Babe. He was named Babe after a Sonny and Cher song, that I couldn’t possibly remember the words to now. Titled “I Got You Babe” Sonny and Cher would sing it, I think at the end of their show. And I would go to bed singing it, holding stuffed Babe up, serenading him. As foggy as my memory is, I think at one point I got caught singing this song to Babe one night, by none other then Dad.

Dad had a sense of humor that never ceased. “Anything for a laugh” most certainly came from being raised by this man, who could always find something to joke about in everyday life. His sense of humor was his signature. Capable of making everyone around him laugh hysterically, people loved being around him. Part of his humor could be biting, sarcastic, dirty and deprecating. And anyone around him was fair game, including himself.  My off key singing voice, and the fact that I was passionately singing it to a stuffed animal, made for some funny fodder.

With Dads humor, he often was the center of attention, and very dominant in conversation. With as often as he was the stand up comedian, my mother was the exact opposite. I think. I say I think, because she was quiet and reserved. A steady presence and voice of reason, when dads humor would have the house in chaotic laughter. My appreciation for deprecating humor, I know is in direct relation to my father, and the laughter that often filled my childhood home.

A few years later, my brother had a stuffed bear named Muggles. Muggles was my little brothers best friend while he was in elementary school. He took Muggles to bed with him every night, and loved him. Being the youngest of three kids with two older sisters, Theo was picked on mercilessly. My sister and I loved to put him into distress on a fairly regularly basis. He was a cute, chubby toe head, that thinking back on, I would love to gather him up in my arms, and tell him how completely adorable and precious he is. Of course now he is 6’1”, doing Triathlons, working for the State Patrol, and a Drill sergeant in the Army Reserves, so that moment has passed..

Oh but when he was little, the laughter that Theo and Muggles gave me and my sister was priceless. He cherished little Muggles, treated him kindly, with sensitivity and gentleness. And was the perfect target for two “big sisters” looking for a cheap laugh and a little fun! Theo would leave Muggles in his bedroom to eat or use the restroom, only to come back to find Trina and I beating the shit out of Muggles with our fists! He would cry, and yell at us to leave poor Muggles alone! Only to have us play catch with Muggles furry little body, bitch slapping him on occasion for good measure. At which point he would scream for mom, to come and save poor little Muggles. And we would have to back off for a little while.

Robby is off in Las Vegas. My 21 yr old son, who loves gambling and received well over a thousand bucks for his Birthday, took himself and his debit card with him to Las Vegas. And yes, that makes me nauseous. This kid, who is no longer a kid, received as a right of passage the largest money gifts he will ever receive from here on out. And where is he? Vegas. Prayers have been said, and that’s all I can do.

Now I’m about to contradict absolutely everything I wrote in my letter to him. Well not completely.  No one ever told me that the worry doesn’t end,even when they reach adult status. They are, and always will be your babies you’ll worry about. Mainly, the letter I wrote him, was letting him know, that painful lessons will be his to live thru now. I won’t be bailing him out of anything from here on out. Bad choices he makes, will be choices he lives with, I will not even attempt to pick up any pieces. I know that probably sounds harsh, but it is the way it must be.

Being an adult is a double edged sword. Giving him the respect that he feels he is due, and that rightfully I should give him, is one thing. But the other edge of the sword is I don’t bail out other adults I know, and will not bail him out either. This is where my mothers angst enters stage left. I can’t pick up any pieces in his life, for his own good. But emotionally, it will kill me if he puts himself into situations that he needs bailed out of. I think mainly what I’m referring to is his finances.

I look at his life, and all the playtime he has. And the million and one things he does now, that I didn’t do until age 30 or above. He just got back from his first Cruise. He is off to Vegas this week-end. 4th of July it is off to Coronado Island (outside of San Diego) He goes, he does, he eats out, he plays. I am glad he is able to do all this. But these are the very reasons I won’t ever bail him out. I really have no clue as to how balanced he is financially. And I may very well be worrying unnecessarily. Learning how to budget is a part of growing up. And he very much is on his own now.

I don’t think the moment really sunk in for him. These gifts, that he received were given as a possible start for savings, or to save for a house...something outside of his budget.I pray he realizes that the money boat has left the dock for good. His biggest gift was given to him by his dads mom. She was overly generous, and followed her gift up the same way all of us did. This is it Robby. I didn’t see it sink in, I pray it did. But still I worry. And bite my tongue.

Dear Robby,
It’s official. You’re an adult in every legal way. It astounds and amazes me! The first words uttered when you were born, was “look how BIG his head is!"I remember a momentary concern, until I heard the admiring comments of the nurses.I still see you, the doctor holding you over me, and then handing you to your grandfather to comfort you. You were screaming your lungs out at that moment. And I, never having given birth before, and having labored 24 hours straight, was more then a little dopey. (That coulda been the demerol too.)

I brought you home, and your grandmother stayed with me for a week. I remember when she was leaving, and I cried, as I looked at you. Sure that somehow I was going to screw up this thing called motherhood, and end up hurting you. You were such a beautiful baby. With the biggest most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen on a baby! As you grew you kept those blue eyes, and used them to flirt with everyone around you. Whether we were in the line at a grocery store, at the bank, or visiting your grandparents. You had a flirty sparkle and ready toothless smile for anyone who might glance your way. I was proud.

You were only two and a half months old, when you saved my life. The maternal instinct to protect was stronger then my self esteem and my love for an evil man. I am sure to this day, had I not took you and left, he would have eventually killed me. I have always believed this and held firmly to the fact that you saved my life. You and your grandfather, who was strong enough, to keep him away from us.

Robby, you were there, part of me during some of the worst months of my life. Caring for you, loving you, kept me from allowing myself to fall so completely into depression during the months that followed my divorce. You were so engaging. I couldn’t go anywhere without being stopped by strangers, who wanted to admire your beauty and charm.

When we met your dad, he too fell for your charm, and loved you like his own, from very early on. And quickly made you his own when you were almost two. You started bouncing a basket ball around, almost before you could walk. You went thru set after set of basketball indoor nerf hoop sets until you were big enough to run.Unless there were people around to charm, you always wanted to be playing basket ball. And did.

You were my first Robby. I made a multitude of mistakes while raising you. I was harder on you, then your brother and sister. I expected perfection out of you, instead of luxuriating in all the wonderful intricacies that made you Robby. You were special beyond belief, and I was too young to see it completely. Caught up in my own problems and desires, I missed some fantastic moments with you.

The one thing, as I write this, that stands out in my mind, is how you could always manage to make me laugh. You were genuinely funny! You could take a tense moment, or one of my bad moods, or yes, hangovers, and turn me into laughter. Your impressions as a child of Jim Carrey, Pet Detective, NEVER ceased to make me laugh. (To this day, your impressions will have me laughing) You truly could charm a nun outta her Habit!

WARNING: EXPLICIT MATERIAL
(In other words, here is your chance to Exit the Auditorium);-)

This was a NON-kids week-end. Which meant the possibilities for grown up play time were limitless. Kevin and I took full advantage of it! Dinner and drinks Friday night out at Houstons http://www.houstons.com/ in Scottsdale . Which happens to be one of our top fave places when we are in the mood for a melt in your mouth prime rib dinner. Served with the best fresh salad of any restaurant we have been to.

Saturday we had plans to head over to Fascinations http://www.fascinations.net to pick up some of our favorite massage oil, by Kama Sutra http://www.kamasutra.com . We have shopped Fascinations for this oil for well over two years. It being the only massage oil, that doesn’t seem to irritate my skin. Our favorite scent, Soaring Spirit. Light, but invigorating! The timing of this particular trip, was motivated by Rhonda, who works for Fascinations. Also known as rk in comments in the Blogosphere.

Rhonda had sent me an email last week, introducing herself, and letting me know that she enjoyed reading my blog. This in and of itself was very flattering, and made me feel good! She followed it up with letting me know she worked for Fascinations, and she would like to gift me with a gift card, if I was interested. Knowing already we were headed there, I enjoyed the irony as well. So I accepted her offer. She let me know that Sadie Allison, an author, of 3 books, self described as Americas Pleasure Coach would be making a guest appearance, and signing books Saturday as well! I saw this as a perfect opportunity for an adult adventure. Certainly out of the norm of our daily routines, or our adult week-end playtime. Not that we didn’t get in a few games of naked pinochle AND Cribbage.

Sadie’s appearance was to be between 1:00PM and 4:00 PM. When we pulled into the parking lot of Fascinations, we had to look for a parking spot. I don’t think I have ever seen this store this packed. Set up out front was a booth by KISS FM radio station. Upon entering the store front, as is usual for Fascinations, we were greeted by a Sales Clerk, with a ready smile. I went to the front and told the clerk that Rhonda had left a card there for me, which they located quickly. Armed with a gift card we turned to look around. Upon further investigation I realized she had left me a $50.00 gift card, which was more then a little shocking! And very generous on Rhonda’s part! So Rhonda if you’re reading this, let me say one more Thank you!!! For being so generous to a virtual stranger!! It made for a very entertaining Saturday!:-)

Right in front of the counter, was a bed set up, where a young woman was strapped to it, with a bed sheet that has restraints on it! I admit to being a tad shocked, then fascinated, and in the end erupting into giggles. It put me in an adventurous mood anyway. Kevin of course, was in the beginning all business. “Let’s go find our massage oil.” I talked him into looking around some more, armed with Rhonda’s generous gift! As we made our way into the center of the store, we saw a miniature stage area set up with around 30 chairs in front of it. Now that we were here, I was curious and wanted to hear what Sadie had to say. Besides, she was handing out free samples of Tickle Kitty Slippery Kitty lubrications http://www.ticklekitty.com . And I have always been a sucker for freebies.

My hubby and I will joke, about our kitty, and the concept of cats having nine lives. Usually in reference to him using one up. (ie; that peck from a bird on the head that came dangerously close to his eyes and a little too deep towards his brain) By our calculations little Smoky has used up approximately four of those lives. But what about mere mortals, are we entitled to nine lives? Are there angels watching over us, and when they retire, from getting our asses outta jams, is that it? The kitty reference is for my buddy Brad at Blogg’d, http://blgd.blogspot.com/ whose theory is, everyone must love blogs about pussies. (So this was my gratuitous pussy reference)

This last Saturday, bright and early, my adorable, hard working husband announces it is time to do some yard work. I took a deep breath, waited for the hairs on the back of my neck to lay down, and said OK. Making mental note of how many accidental death policies I have on his life and saying a prayer of protection. There is just no way in hell I could be witness to it again. It’s hard enough dyeing the grey outta my hair now, I don’t need a new batch to pop out!

We have some beautiful large shrubs, along the side of our pool, and one rather large one at the end of it. It makes for a peaceful soothing greenery affect around the pool, which is nice living in the desert. The problem is, they grow fast, and have to be trimmed fairly regularly, or else they will crowd out the space between the pool and the shrubs; leaving no room to walk around it.

The reason this has become such a harrowing experience for me, has to do with the last few times he was trimming them.  First you must know, my hubby is a city boy from the get go. Originally from Buffalo, moved to Pittsburgh and then to Philly, before making his way to the desert. Landscaping has never really been a part of his daily life, ever. But we’re a family, doing family things, and part of this is yard work.

He is very proud of one of his purchases. And for the life of me I don’t know what to call it. It is electric, and I guess it would be a mini chain saw?  I call it the electric thing. But overall it works for trimming off stray branches on the trees, trimming down the rose bushes in the fall, and trimming hedges, and shrubs. But it is electric, not gas operated. Thus we replace 100 foot cords often. He has a knack for cutting thru or nicking the cords on a fairly regular basis.

The first time I was a witness to his trimming efforts, I was inside working IN the house. (Actually I was catalog ordering the latest outfit I wanted.) I went out to check on his efforts, mainly concerned with all this shit ending up in the pool to clog the filter, and the skimmer. When I gazed over at him, working hard, sweat pouring down him, I was filled with adoration. This was quickly replaced with a strong sense of doom, that didn’t register right away. That’s when I saw it. His bright orange extension cord resting across and at the bottom of the pool, with him busily cutting away. As he was inches from the edge of the pool I didn’t want to scream and scare him right into it.
Me: Kevin! Turn that thing off now!
Kevin: What? I’m not getting it in the pool!
Me: Turn it off!!

That’s when I pointed out his cord lying in the pool. He swore to never allow this to happen again. I let him know the dangers of electricity. And if he didn’t treat it with respect, he would be watching me from the hereafter spending the life insurance money with Sven the 27 yr old tennis pro on my arm!  After inspecting this particular cord, it was determined that the several nicks on it, now made it a danger, and off he went to buy a new one.