This stands as a warning to all unsuspecting wives out there. TODAY IS April Fool’s Day. My magnetic husband nailed me first thing this morning. And it wasn’t pretty!

First, take into consideration that I woke up last night at 11:30 PM wide awake and stayed that way until after 1:30 AM. (I fell asleep by 8:30 pm last night) Only to awaken by 5:30 AM this morning. I gave up the sleep-ghost and just got my dragging a$$ up.

The hubby was already showered and wide awake, when I started down the hallway heading for the coffee pot. (I don’t try to speak before that first cup.)

Then, in panic he yelled, STOP!!! THERE’S A SCORPION RIGHT THERE. He pointed at my feet while I hopped from foot to foot down the hallway screaming, “WHERE IS IT?!?” Yes, I could have skipped my morning coffee at that point. He just laughed at me, and let lose with those two words a good deal of us are bound to hear today.
APRIL FOOLS!

As silly as this may sound, you have to take into consideration my great and irrational fear of the scorpion. I showered with one who was creeping towards me while I had a head full of shampoo. We have found INSIDE our house about half a dozen of them over the years. And I know our front and backyard are crawling with the little nightmares.

The last one we found is the one in the photo at the top of this entry. It was discovered about a month ago, when my smart and “afraid-of-nothing” daughter let out with a blood-curdling scream from the miniature basketball court in the backyard. Practicing her shot, she came foot to head with the little critter and lost all control. I’m not sure if the little guy was dead or not. But I have read that they will “play dead” when confronted with any sense of danger.

So having this photographed reminder just a mere month ago set the stage perfectly for Paul’s practical joke. I’ll be spending the next year trying to come up with a way to nail him in 2009! As my brother-in-law Jim pointed out this morning, after a while today everyone’s radar is up, and it’s harder to trick them. (Jim’s wife, Barb, did get him this morning, so that’s one for the ladies!)

Consider yourself warned. In the meantime I’m hoping for a nap at some point today. My nerves are rattled and my sleep has been deprived. If I end up dreaming about scorpions though, someone is going to pay the price!

Love,
3T

Sedona Sunsetting - Teri Maryniak

I grew up on fairytales. Not necessarily the children’s books that end with the damsel finding her Prince, and living happily ever after. I do have vague memories of just such books, like Cinderella, which, face it, when you’re a slob like me with a total distaste for scrubbing floors, didn’t appeal to me much. As I was the oldest, if there was any sibling bullying, it was most likely perpetrated by myself. Not any wicked step-sisters or my real sister. Add to that the fact that I had huge feet for a woman (they do match my height), I saw the Prince hunting for the tiny little footed princess to be discrimination. So that isn’t a good example.

When I hit that delicate age of twelve, when young girls start changing, my fairytales were Harlequin romances. Again, they always ended with the self-sufficient woman finding her Prince and riding off into the sunset together. (In an expensive car, of course) There was one other book I got my hands on at this tender age that I don’t think I’ve ever told my parents I got hold of. “S*x on the Beach,” was inadvertently stuck into the bag of Harlequin Romances that a neighbor lady would send my way, when she was done with them. Now that was an education!  With no happy ending either.

Back to topic. From the too-many-to-count Harlequins I read over those years came the desire to find my rich, handsome, dashing and sexy Knight in Shining Armor. I craved a romance like the ones had by all the beautiful women in the Harlequins. As I was merely 14 or 15 by then, my wait was bound to be years into the future.

Now, as a somewhat jaded and cynical woman of 44, I have come to realize just how damaging those fairytales are to girls and then women. With every fairytale ENDING at till death do us part, no one bothered to tell us there was more. Much, much more to life than what Hollywood and fairytales gave us.

Consequently, I believe there were those of us who searched for their fairytale. Two failed marriages and a few illicit attempts at finding it proved either that it didn’t exist or I wasn’t “good enough” to receive what the rest of the world seemed to already find. At the time, I leaned toward the “I wasn’t getting it right” and I wasn’t worthy of the fairytale.

Now, I finally have my “prince charming.” Translated, that means I found a man who I love and who loves me. One who has some similar interests as mine, and treasured togetherness as much as I do.

Is it a fairytale? Nope! Far from it. At least by Harlequin Romance standards. What we did find was a mate to stand with and work together on life’s many problems. Not quite the carefree fairytale of childhood dreams. But worth fighting for till the very end. An ending that is unknown and goes far beyond “and they lived happily ever after.”

In the seven years that my boyfriend/then husband and I have been together, we have faced sickness, cancer, both threats of it and the real thing, catheters, peri-menopause, bulged discs, financial problems, kids’ schedules that have had both our heads spinning in opposite directions, cat puke, lost jobs, stomach bugs, that if anything are not conducive with romance. Now add broken appliances, flying pieces of roof during monsoon season, broken down vehicles, BBQers catching on fire, pool cleaners that break down yearly, weed-pulling, burnt dinners, the eX-baggage problems, and a few family feuds. Now I ask you, does this sound like happily ever after to you? No, I didn’t think so.

I think that my sub-conscience belief in the fairytale existed right up until we went on our honeymoon. Except as we headed for the plane, we were worried about my job, (lay-offs were imminent) and my mother had breast cancer, with the tests of how exactly advanced it was, still unknown.

It was well after the honeymoon that I gave up the ghost of happily-ever-after. Each day presented its own unique set of problems that had my inner romantic screaming, “That’s not fair!!! I found my Prince, now I want my Happily-f*cking-ever-after!” Before the thought was complete, a new problem would pop up.

And that, dear friends, is life. I’m sure a good deal of women never struggled with this lesson. I however, wasn’t one of them.

Over the years we have learned to snatch moments of happy whenever we could work it in. From trips to far-off places, to playing pinochle on the patio, we steal laughter and love as often as is possible. My clever husband came up with a way to give me moments of happily-ever-after in the form of a daily email that speaks of love and persevering over our problems. Reality with a touch of the melodramatic love story my inner romantic was after.

And it is these moments, trips, emails and laughter we focus on whenever we are faced with a daunting project, sickness and the daily grind.

We are dealing with a possible return of cancer, as I type this. Coming to this point, after all we were able to persevere over, (with prayer and God’s intervention) are two seasoned pro’s that are praying and taking it one day at a time.

There is no emotional melodrama or impatient hand-wringing worry. We know that the future is in God’s hands. And we will be taking this one step at a time. Starting with another PET scan.

Paul’s PSA readings have shot up out of nowhere. One went extremely high, then it came down a week later, and then it really shot up a couple of days after that.

Although we dealt with his prostate cancer and the complications the botched surgery caused, this is new territory. We have searched the internet, asked the doctor, (who’s response from what I gather came down to he didn’t know what was going on) talked to the RNs in our family, and of course prayed. The doctor wanted to get him started in radiation as soon as is possible. WHY? That’s the question of the month right now.

He doesn’t HAVE a prostate. WHY are his PSA readings shooting up? No one seems to know. I guess what I’m hoping at this point, is that somewhere out there in the great big world-wide-web SOMEONE who has had his prostate removed, has experienced what Paul is going through right now, and will run across this and enlighten us.  Fat chance I realize, but one never knows…

We will be searching out a new urologist after the pet scan. This doctor that he’s seeing now, has lied to us on more than a couple of occasions.  For all we know, there was more to that botched surgery than we were told. If that’s the case, the only way to find out is through a new doctor, who has higher ethics and is more concerned with patient care than his ambition.

In the meantime, appliances continue to break down, kids’ schedules must be met, work must continue. Life goes on, but with a new mountain to climb.

Fairytales be damned; but if you believe in the power of prayer, we’re asking for them. If you believe in meditation, healing, positive thoughts, or budha for that matter, we want those thoughts and prayers too. We want some answers to questions that do not seem available to us right now.

We have every intention of attacking this “blip” on our radars with the gusto and aggressiveness of the strong realists I know we have become. Stealing some laughter and love along the way.

And to family that we didn’t share any of this with, we had our reasons. Not to keep you in the dark, but to not spoil some celebrations that deserved nothing but happy thoughts and feelings. Margie, I hear the big 5-0 is the new 40! A very special and Happy Birthday as well as a wonderful year ahead, from Paul and me!  Rob and Cheryl, you’re beginning your lives together, with so many wonderful adventures ahead of you. As well as some rough times; but those adventures and rough times are what help build a strong marriage, when you work together. Besides your relationship with our Savior, make each other your number 1 priority in life. And make love, laughter, fun and good times a priority as well. They’ll see you through those rough times.

With Love,

3T

Mr. & Mrs. Robert & Cheryl Johannes

Is getting married! My baby boy will be marrying a lovely young lady on March 9th. They have asked me to take the photos of their wedding and reception. So if anyone out there is reading this, I need PRAYER and a miracle. Seriously. I will give it my very, very best, but I know when I’m out of my league. I’m out of my league. The rest is in God’s hands.
My baby then

And Now…

I pray God blesses their union with health, wealth and happiness. (Not necessarily in that order)

Love,

3T

Oh Holy Night!

Oh holy night!
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear saviors birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appeard and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh night when christ was born
Oh night divine
Oh night divine

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming
With glowing hearts by his cradle we stand
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming
Here come the wise men from orient land
The king of kings lay thus in lowly manger
In all our trials born to be our friend.

Truly he taught us to love one another
His law is love and his gospel is peace
Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother
And in his name all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise his holy name.

Since my beautiful daughter Tayler taught me how to put a YouTube video/music on my blog, I decided to share what I consider to be THE voice of Christmas music with my favorite Christmas song.

For me, growing up and decorating for Christmas went hand-in-hand with the Johnny Mathis Christmas album. I’ve seen that same album in the form of record, 8-track, cassette and now CD. (Don’t quote me on the 8-track, I could be wrong on that mode of delivery)

The sound of his perfect voice singing Oh Holy Night never fails to put me in the Christmas spirit. My parents raised me and my siblings with this music, and I’ve raised my kids with Johnny Mathis at Christmas.

Growing up during the Christmas Holidays, I have the best memories of my family enjoying the Holiday to the sounds of Johnny Mathis singing. His voice transforms me back to the childhood innocence and anticipation of this very special time. I know my kids now associate this particular album with decorating for the Holidays as well.

I wish each of you a Merry Christmas, however you choose to spend it. From my family to yours, Merry Christmas and have a Happy New Year 2008!

Make memories to cherish always.

Love,

3T

This is an experiment. Tayler gave me a lesson on how to post a YouTube video. This may or may not work. Fingers crossed.

This is off of the Eagles latest CD called Long Road Out of Eden. And is my favorite song off of disc one. You can pick up this CD at WalMart. Two disc CD and I think it’s a hit. The Eagles all grown up.

Love,

3T

Where you want to shoot your X-husband, execution style, point-blank, in the head? No? Just me? Oh well, I have no problem admitting it. (If you do, keep it to yourself. Seriously.)

What is it about the Holiday Season that makes every thing and every emotion about extremes? There’s no in-betweens. Just extremes. Am I alone in this? Again, if I am, keep it to yourself.

I usually pride myself on rising above the petty issues, for my kids. We celebrate a few Holidays and the kids’ Birthdays together. My X, his mother, my husband and me. Now add my grown son and his once-again-fiance, and Riley and Tayler. The two precious reasons we all work to rise above the past.

Last night, my precious baby Riley, age 12, who now stands 5’9” and has to shave a mustache off every couple of months; graduated from the 6th grade DARE class. For those not familiar, it is a “course” usually taught by the local police department on drugs and their many devastating effects on the lives of those who choose to partake of them.

Graduation night is considered big. With parents attending and certificates handed out, as well as a DARE t-shirt that the kids wear with pride. A program where there has been some controversy on its effectiveness and value, since tax dollars go to pay for it. (Again, if you have a problem with this program, keep it to yourself. Or write about it on your own blog)

For my baby, it was extra special. A definite “must attend.” Riley to date, has not had many opportunities to shine. As he doesn’t or hasn’t expressed an interest in just about anything extra-curricular. So as this is one of those rare occasions where he is the center of attention with his family, all of us recognized the importance of being there for him.

Unfortunately, my husband had a prior work commitment he could not get out of; as much as he would have liked to. So there we were, all gathered in the audience. My X, Riley’s sister Tayler, their grandmother (the X’s Mom) and me. I brought my camera to take as many photos of Riley as I could.  For the memories and for the fact that I knew it would make Riley feel good to know he was the center of attention for the evening.

My camera is a Sony SLR, and fairly new. I’m not comfortable (that’s putting it mildly) with manual settings, and do not mess with the many and varied menus as of yet. Mainly since I haven’t figured out which work best, for which type of photo, and I don’t know how to reset them.

As Tayler was between myself and the X, and the X was dying to play know-it-all with MY camera, he kept grabbing at it. To the point where Tayler got up and moved, leaving no buffer between the X and my camera and me.

Having spent 16 years with this man, I’m well aware of his penchant for grandstanding and desire to be the imparter of all knowledge. One tiny problem with this is 7 out of 10 times he doesn’t know jackshit, and tries to bullshit his way as he goes. Usually screwing things up.

As was the case last night with my camera. The camera that I still stand in awe of. The camera that holds so much more mystery for me, as I slowly go about learning its many functions. Lets put it this way, if my house caught on fire, once the kids, hubby and cat were out safely, the item I’d grab would be this camera!

Now you don’t spend 16 years with someone without learning at least a little about that person. Although in the X’s case, I’d say he came close to learning as little as is possible about his wife as any husband could. But he knew enough to know, this was/IS my prized possession.

As he went about trying to impart some of his all-knowing knowledge on his stupid X-wife, and I went about trying to be polite, even though his antics were making me nervous and also taking the focus off of what we were there for, Riley; the inevitable happened. He managed to f*ck up the settings; which ended anymore photos of Riley with my camera.

Call me crazy and paranoid, but I can’t help but feel this was a passive-aggressive move on his part. Of course as my blood pressure rose, he kept wanting to try and “fix things.” Finally, meekly suggesting that if I gave him my camera manual, he’d read it until he figured out how to fix it. Let’s just say at this point, all I could picture was shooting this dumbf*ck in the head.

BUT, we were there for Riley. A point the X didn’t seem to get at all. This is a man who likes to pride himself on being such a wonderful Dad. (ie; he can write out bigger checks to his kids than I can) Yes, that may just be the opinion of a disgruntled X-wife; as I know his kids all love him dearly. And no, I haven’t figured out WHY I procreated with this doofus. But I did, it’s a done deal, and now we all live with that fact. Surely I could have found a more suitable sperm donor...although I cannot imagine having any other kids than the ones God graced me with.

There was one moment when Riley was standing up there and we made eye-contact as I snapped a photo. His face lit up! Riley is one that for some reason, he doesn’t like to show emotion. So seeing him try to conceal his delight and failing miserably, managed to warm my heart and make me want to cry all at once.

I think even though his own Dad did his best to upstage him, we accomplished having Riley feel as special as he is. And my husband and I continued to do so, until he was in bed and asleep for the night. The hubby went and picked out a new game for Riley to play on his X-box. And although he couldn’t be there, congratulated him, hugged him, and then shook his hand for the first time ever. And although this to warmed my heart, by the time the kids were alseep; the evening’s events caught up with me.

No man was spared from my extreme emotions last night. And the hubby received a full account of the evenings awkwardness and my tears as I proceeded to have a complete and full meltdown.

As spouse’s are wont to do when emotions are running high; miscommunications commenced.  I couldn’t explain my extreme reactions, and he kept taking it as a personal attack, since he wasn’t able to make it to Riley’s graduation. Eventually it became a personal attack as I realized just how much I had come to rely on him as my “cover” and “buffer” as far as dealing with the X was concerned.

Of course the irony of this situation has not escaped me. Life is full of ironies when you’re looking for them. I realize that my husband is the rock the puts stability to the awkward gatherings of X’s. The X’s mother likes Paul, I’m sure far more than she likes her son’s X-wife. (And as a mother, I can completely understand that. Moreso taking into account some of the things I pulled while married to her son)

Everyone handles the situation, and behaves appropriately when my husband is there. The X would have never played “grab-ass” with my camera if the hubby was there. And I do believe all the negative feelings I have towards being married to the X would not have flooded me so completely, had my present and future (my husband) been there.  It was like a flashback to a nightmare that took me years to extricate myself from. And by nightmare, I mean the lonliness being married to the X had represented. The lack of any real sense of intimacy or being heard. The X spent 16 years being a one-man show in a game of “look at me, arn’t I the saint.” I didn’t even have a walk-on part in that marriage. I was a prop, plain and simple.

Maybe I’ll never figure out completely why there is always the proverbial meltdown during the Holiday season. Is it the constant desire to provide the Norman Rockwell Holiday for myself and my family? Is it the many Holidays that were always tinged with a sense of sadness and deceit? Who knows. I could psycho-babble analyze it until Hell froze over, and I don’t think I would ever completely understand it.

My only hope at this point, this Holiday season, is that the hubby does not have to work an evening when we yet again must gather to support, encourage and clap for one of my children’s special moments.

sidenote: I would never physically harm or try to harm anyone or anything. This is my diary, where I can vomit up my thoughts and feelings. I am disgusted with violence in all its forms. But this doesn’t stop me from releasing my own emotions and frustrations in the form of the written word.